I stormed all the way home. I'd left my car at school because I rode with Cella to her house, and I didn't feel like going back to the school to get it. Plus, I needed a good walk to calm my nerves, because I wasn't quite sure how I was feeling. Obviously, I was angry—that came with any interaction with Mason. But I was also so, so confused. Ever since I'd first seen him, something in my body repulsed me, as if we were two magnets with their north poles facing each other.

But when he'd been so close, it was as if one of the magnets flipped to reveal its south pole. I was horribly drawn to him in a way I couldn't explain. Or, well, to his blood at least. I'd never felt such a strong desire to bite.

I was so lost in thought, I nearly walked past my house. That was hard to do, given that it was absolutely massive.

It wasn't really my house. I lived there, I called it home, but it belonged to too many people for me to call it mine.

The mansion was more or less in the middle of nowhere. It was basically in the center of a forest; there weren't any other houses or buildings for at least a mile. The house itself was shrouded by a veil of trees so tall and thick, it was always dark when I looked out the window.

     When I entered, the living room was surprisingly vacant. Usually there was some sort of commotion going on—a house with fifty inhabitants was rarely empty. Now, though, the common room was strangely silent.

     It didn't take long to realize why. The room wasn't completely silent after all. Farther off, nearer to the kitchen, I could hear the bickering voices of my father and my brother. Nobody ever wanted to be around when those two went at it.

     I crossed the huge living room until their voices were coming from just around the corner and pressed my back against the wall so as to not get caught.

    "We need to attack! Don't you see? We can't be living so near to them and expect peace! If we don't make a move, they will," I heard my brother say.

     "So far, the only one who seems to have war on their mind is you," my father argued. His voice had always intimidated me, but it never seemed to faze Cedric.

     "You're being blind!"

    "You're being foolish!"

     "How can you just sit there knowing that, a few miles away, a pack of lycanthropes could be plotting against us? They're werewolves, father! They're devious and malicious and—"

     "Enough!" I heard my father bellow. "I'm not sure where your obsession with the wolves comes from, but it ends now! They are our enemies, but as long as they stay put, we will not interfere with them. Do you understand?"

      I knew that even Cedric wasn't daring enough to say more at that point, but I also knew that he wasn't about to give up so easily. He would drop it for now, but it would come up again.

     Cedric's hatred for lycanthropes was no secret. Anytime he could, he expressed his despise. True, we all hated them—it was part of our being—but none of us were as extreme as he. If he could, he'd wipe out the entire race.

     I hadn't known that a pack moved into the city. The idea of wolves roaming around nearby wasn't one that settled well with me, but I could only imagine how enraged Cedric must've been feeling.

    I jumped from the wall when Cedric appeared around the corner, fuming. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he noticed me. "Were you listening?" He hissed.

    I picked my words carefully; an angry Cedric was not one to be messed with. "No, not really, I just got here. I heard you mention werewolves, though. What's that about?" I asked, pretending not to know.

     "A goddamn pack of lycanthropes moved in not too far away," he growled, and I knew I'd chosen my words well. As angry as he was, Cedric wouldn't give up an opportunity to vent about wolves.

     I tuned out as he ranted, and my brain went back to Mason and how much I wanted to rip his throat out. My face must've reflected my anger, because Cedric said, "I know, it's horrible!"

      "Yeah," I trailed. "I've gotta go catch up on homework, man."

     Cedric scoffed. "Yeah, whatever," he snapped and stormed off. I knew he wasn't angry at me, just the situation, so I didn't let his tone affect me.

   Cedric was hard to get used to, but I'd had all sixteen years of my life to adapt to his attitudes. He was the type of sibling that you don't exactly get along with, but you don't not get along, either. He believed and said and did a lot of things that I didn't agree with—such as his radical detestation of werewolves—but he was still my brother. So, even though he was an ass 80% of the time, I still loved him in a brotherly way. We weren't particularly close, but I knew he cared about my well being and what's best for me, so I felt the same for him.

    I wandered into the kitchen, feeling horribly thirsty, to see my father already in there, pouring himself a glass by the fridge.

    "You want some, K?" He asked. I nodded gratefully and he pulled another cup from the cabinet and poured me a glass of the thick red liquid. I downed it in seconds. "Woah, there," he laughed. "Slow down, champ. When was the last time you drank?"

    I shrugged. "Few day ago, I guess."

    My father gave me a strange look. "I don't get it, Kieran. We've always got plenty of blood here, but you go days at a time without having any."

    He was right, I had a tendency to do that. Why? I had no idea. It wasn't like food was hard to acquire. Just like humans had places to go to buy groceries, vampires had places where they could get blood supplies. Everyone had this idea in their minds that vampires had to go out and kill someone to feed—that was like saying that humans had to go and hunt down a cow if they wanted a burger. We always had a constant supply of blood for meals.

     Given, it wasn't the most appetizing blood. We weren't allowed to drink human blood, so it usually came from cows and other livestock. It wasn't particularly bad, it was just bland, and it didn't keep you full for long.

    "So, how was school?" my father asked. I stopped halfway through the process of pouring another glass just so I could throw my head back in a dramatic groan. My father laughed. "That bad, huh?"

   I quickly drained the contents of my cup and then said, "There's this new kid; I hate him."

     "If he's only been in school for a day, isn't it a bit soon to know that you hate him?"

   "Nah; he can bite me."

***

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Marcella asked as she parked her car. Since I left my car here yesterday, Cella gave me a ride to school.

      I shrugged. "Sure, what's up?"

     "Is there anything you want to tell me?"

     I raised my eyebrows expectantly, figuring she would elaborate on the vague question. When she didn't, I said, "Er, no?"

      "Are you absolutely positive?" Cella asked. She took my hand, which was resting on the center console, in hers. "You know I would never judge you for anything, right?"

     I pulled my hand away, a little weirded out by her strange behavior. "Okay, what's going on?" I asked slowly.

     "Nothing!" Marcella said quickly. "I just want to make sure you don't think you need to hide anything around me, you know?"

     "Cella," I gave her a look that said are you serious? "You literally know the biggest secret I could ever possibly tell you. I don't think there's anything I'd hide from you after telling you I'm a vampire."

     "Okay, yeah, I know," Cella sighed. "It's just...are you sure?"

     "Goodness, Cella, if you have a question just ask it," I said, exasperated.

     "Are you gay?" She blurted. Her eyes widened and she slapped her palms to her mouth. "Oh gosh, Kieran, that's not how I wanted to ask—"

    "Wh-what?" I spluttered. "No!"

      "Are you...are you bi? Or pan?"

     I shook my head. "Cella, I'm straight. I thought you knew that."

      "I did..." Marcella trailed. "I was just...curious?" It came out as more of a question than a statement.

     I cocked an eyebrow. "Mind if I ask why? Do I come across as gay to you? I thought my vibe was pretty hetero, you know."

     Marcella's cheeks were red with embarrassment and she was twirling a strand of blonde hair around her fingers. It was a nervous habit she'd always had. "No, you're right, it's dumb. Forget I asked."

      "Hey, not so fast," I said as her hand moved to open the door. "I'm not angry, Cells. I just want to know. There's gotta be some reason you're asking this all of a sudden."

    Cella huffed and slid back into her seat. "You, uh, you've got all these girls always throwing themselves at you, but you always reject them. Yeah, that's why."

     She was lying. I didn't have to know her as well as I did to notice—Marcella was a horrible liar.

     "Sure, sure," I said dryly. "It's not like we've had hour long conversations in the past about how I want to be with a girl who doesn't throw herself at me, but one who is modest and genuinely interested in my character."

     I got her, I could tell. She hesitated way too long before she laughed weakly and said, "Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. Haha silly me." I gave her an I'm not buying it look and she sighed in defeat. "Fine, Mason told me to ask you."

     I grew irritated at the mere mention of his name. "What the hell? Why?"

     Cella shrugged. "I don't know." I gave her a doubtful look and she held her hands up submissively. "Honestly, I don't."

     I narrowed my eyes at the blonde girl. "So if my answer was yes, you would have told him?"

     "No!" Cella said quickly. "It's not like that, K, I promise. He asked me after you left and I told him then and there that it wasn't his business and I wouldn't tell him even if I knew. But after he asked I was still, well, curious."

     I felt the strange urge to punch something. "That little bastard!" I hissed. "Why do you think he wanted to know? What would happen if I said yes and you told him? I bet he wanted to use it as blackmail, or to expose me to the school. That dick!"

     "Hey," Cella put a soothing hand on my arm. "I don't think it's like that, Kieran. Really, I don't. You've only known each other for a day, he can't hate you enough to go that low. I think he was just curious. Or maybe he's gay, and he likes you."

    "Hah!" I snorted. "As if! He just wants something to hold over me!" I smirked as an idea came to my head. "Tell him yes," I instructed. "Tell him I'm gay as all hell. I want to see what he does with it."

     Cella's eyes widened tenfold. "Are you insane? What if he tells people?"

     I shrugged. "What if he does? It's his word against mine, I can reverse the damage just as easily as he causes it. Plus, like I give a shit if people at school think I'm gay. It's 2016, they should be over it."

     Marcella seemed hesitant. "I don't know, K. Our school is as stereotypical as high schools get—it's practically a scene from Mean Girls. We've got the stereotypical popular jocks who are assholes and bullies and incredibly homophobic."

     I scoffed. "Like I care. If Mason tells and anyone has a problem with it, they can suck my gay ass. Besides, the stereotypical high schools also have the homophobic jock who's confused and curious and decides to experiment with the out gay kid. Maybe I can get some jock action," I said with a wink. Marcella laughed and rolled her eyes.

    "You sure you're straight?" She chuckled.

     "As a pole."

     No surprise, we were late to first period. Also no surprise, I felt the familiar urge to punch something the moment I walked in and saw Mason sitting smugly at the table. My table.

     Along with the urge, however, I felt excitement. It was time to do some acting.

      "So," I said slyly as I slid into my seat. Mason looked both surprised and annoyed that I was talking to him. "I heard you had some questions about my sexuality."

     Mason's cheeks tinged pink—one point to me. "I, uh..."

     I cocked my head and pursed my lips. "What, too chicken to ask me yourself?"

     Mason didn't say anything, but irritation flashed in his eyes. "Since you wanted to know so badly," I continued, "Yeah, I prefer fish sticks."

     Masons eyebrows shot up. "You're gay?"

      I gasped dramatically. "You're straight?"

      "No! I mean yes! What?" Mason's face was beet red, which gave me way more satisfaction than I could ever describe. Whatever he did with the information, it was worth seeing him so flustered.

I just smirked in return, and watched as his embarrassment turned to aggravation. "Whatever you say, champ," I said.

"Hey, what's that suuposed to—"

"Boys!" Mrs Gremlin snapped in our direction. "Are you even paying attention?"

     "Nope," I said blandly. Mrs Gelatin's face turned as red as Mason's and I braced for the explosion that was sure to come.

     However, before Mrs Glacier could utter a word, the sound of the fire alarms going off pierced the air. "Oh, silly me!" Mrs Gasoline giggled. "I forgot that there was a fire drill today. Okay, everyone, you know what to do—"

     But most of the class was out the door at the words fire drill. Before long, the class was dispersed among the many joining us in the hall. Nobody ever actually did what they were supposed to during a fire drill—that would be plain boring.

     I stuck to Marcella's side the entire time; when we were finally out in the open I grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the crowd. "What's up?" she asked curiously.

      "You will not believe this," I said excitedly. "I overheard my dad and Cedric talking yesterday, and apparently..." I stopped as I got the strange feeling that someone was listening. I looked around, but nobody was near enough to hear, especially since I was whispering. My suspicious glance instantly turned to Mason, but he was several feet away, talking to some guy from the football team.

      "Apparently what?" Cella prompted, nudging my shoulder.

      "I...I can't shake this feeling that someone's listening," I said honestly.

      Marcella laughed. "K, don't be ridiculous. There's no one within earshot, at least not with how quiet you were talking."

     "I know, I know," I said distractedly. "But...I'll tell you another time, okay? When we're alone."

      "Okay," Marcella said slowly, giving me a strange look. Just then, Mason popped out of nowhere and threw an arm around her shoulders.

     "Hey, Cella," he greeted smoothly. "I never got a chance to say good morning to you."

      It was slight—faint, even—but I saw a pink tint make its way to my best friend's cheeks.

      Don't tell me she's...

     "Good morning," Cella giggled.

     Oh no.

     "Good morning," I mimicked, mocking Cella's giggle.

     Mason ignored me entirely while Cella settled for fixing me with a glare. "When are we going to continue with the project? I really want to just get over with it before Mr. Cooper gives us his project."

     Mr. Cooper was the crazy AP World History teacher, who had a new tedious assignment for his students every other week. "I agree," I chimed. "How about we try to finish it after school today?"

      "I can't," Mason said. "Blake just invited me to his football practice; a lot of his teammates are sick and they need one more person to scrimmage."

      "You play football?" Cella asked. "How do they know if you're any good?"

     "Yes, and they don't. They will later, though," Mason said with a shrug and a smirk.

     "So what I'm hearing," I said slowly. "Is that you're to busy with your fuckboy business to help with the project?" Mason opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off. "That's...that's awesome! Tell Drake or Jake or whatever his name is that I say thanks!"

      Cella chuckled, which earned her a glare from Mason. She blushed and shrugged, but she didn't apologize, so I counted it as another win for me.

     Slytherin - 2
     Gryffindor - 0