I would like to say that I was brave and strong, and did not allow Ryan's rough hands and harsh words to bother me, but this would be untrue.

Mr. Ramsey kindly helped me to gather my things and put them back inside my locker, and asked me if they had hurt me.

I could not answer except to shake my head or nod, and so after telling me to find him if something similar happened again, he left me and went on his way.

The next period had nearly started by then, and most of the other students were already in their classes.

I retreated to the 'rest room' instead.

I had not made use of one before, but there was a large mirror and a counter with wash-basins, and several individual compartments with self-emptying chamber pots within. I locked myself in the largest of these, and sat in the corner with my knees tucked up to my chin, and began to rock back and forth with my eyes shut tight.

It was something I had not done in quite some time—not since Ari had healed me—but it had once been a constant habit. When few things brought me comfort, the gentle rocking motion kept me grounded, and reminded me that I was no longer trapped in the nightmare of my memories, even if I could not stop them from resurfacing.

The pain of Ryan's grip had triggered one such memory, and I could not prevent it from playing out upon the canvas of my mind. It was of a time when nothing of my person was my own; when I had lived at the whim of a cruel and capricious master, abused to punish another, and when sleep was the only refuge from pain.

I had not noticed I had begun to cry until a soft voice intruded upon my thoughts, and returned me to the present time.

"Fenn? Is that you?"

I blinked and sniffed, and wiped at my eyes, and recognized Lauren's white canvas shoes beneath the bottom of the door.

"Yes."

"What are you doing in here?"

"I am resting. In the 'rest room.'" I sniffed.

"This is the girl's bathroom, Fenn. Hey, open up." She knocked lightly on the door.

I got up and unlatched it. She pushed it open and took in my fresh tears, and her expression fell.

"Oh, no, Fenn..."

She stepped forward and pulled me into a hug.

"Shit. I heard what Ryan did, and then someone told me they saw you going in here. Are you okay?"

I nodded against her shoulder. "Yes. I am not hurt."

"But your face..."

"My face?"

She let me go and nodded. "Come see."

Taking my hand she led me to stand before the mirror, where I saw several red marks already darkening to bruises against my light skin.

"Oh no..." Being a vampire, I would heal quickly. In a few hours the bruises would be gone, but in the meantime...

"Here," Lauren set her pack down and dug through one of the pockets. "I've got some concealer in here somewhere..."

She found it and pulled it out, uncapping the little tube and squirting some light-coloured paste onto one fingertip.

"Hold still..."

She dabbed it gently over my bruises, and smiled.

"There. All better."

I checked in the mirror. Lauren's warm-toned makeup did not quite match my pallor, but from a distance, and if I kept my head down, perhaps no one would notice it.

"Thank you," I said, feeling strangely shy and unsure. Lauren was kind, but she hadn't spoken to me in English class, and I did not know if we were still 'friends' or not. "I am very gratefu—"

"I'm sorry," Lauren said quickly, cutting me off. "I'm really sorry, Fenn. I felt so bad for what I said, and I know this sounds so immature, but... it was Avery's idea. She has this thing where she likes to help weird unpopular kids, but only as long as they stay weird and unpopular. She didn't expect you to be, like, actually cute and amazing, and then you totally upstaged her with Dennis, and, like, I don't want to go along with that bullshit anymore, because... Well, I really like you, Fenn."

Her words tumbled forth in a rush, and left me a little lost, but it seemed to come out to a positive at the end.

"You do?"

She nodded. "Yeah. And I do want to be Christine, like, more than anything, but I know it's not up to me, and... I think you'd be great, Fenn, and I think you should audition for the part—we both should—and, whoever gets it, we'll celebrate together. Deal?"

She held out her hand to me, and I noticed her sparkly pink nails once more.

"Will you teach me how to make my fingernails shine like yours?" I asked.

"Sure." She smiled. "Of course I will."

"Then we have a deal," I said, and took her hand in mine.

~ ❀ ~

The rest of the day passed peacefully, though lunch was awkward. I sat with Lauren, Dennis, and a few other 'theatre kids,' but Avery sat apart with a group of other girls with 'perfect hair,' whom Dennis told me were 'cheer-leaders.'

If they knew about it, no one mentioned Ryan.

After school, I looked for Constant Gray, but it seemed he'd never come to class at all that day.

Soren had errands to run in town, and had told me he would pick me up at school, rather than meet me at the bus stop, but he was running late. Lauren had 'band practice,' and Dennis had volleyball, and so as the busses came and went and the parking lot emptied, I found myself waiting alone.

"Psst!"

I startled, and turned to find Dennis grinning at my back.

My vampiric senses should have alerted me to his presence, but I had been distracted by my thoughts, which had been circling the problem of Constant Gray: it seemed that, as much as I was determined to speak with him, he was equally determined to avoid me.

"Yo! Thought you'd be long gone by now!" Dennis said, smiling.

"My father is late," I said, looking at the ground.

"The one that drives the fancy car, right?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Hey...." Dennis' expression sobered, and he shifted a bit closer to me. "Lauren told me what happened this morning, with that douchebag Ryan and his stupid gang. You okay?"

I nodded again. "I am, now."

Dennis said nothing more, and somehow I felt quite safe with him, sitting at my side. Safe enough to tell him a bit of the truth.

"I was hurt, once," I said, swallowing against the tightness in my throat. "Someone... hurt me. But I am all right, now. It is only when I am reminded, as I was this morning, that..."

"Hey—" Dennis surprised me again, reaching over and pulling me into a tight hug. "I get it. My dad... I got a step-dad, now, and he's great, but... Well, I get it, yeah?" 

I hugged him back, feeling an unexpected sting in my eyes.

"Dennis?" I asked, releasing him.

"Yeah?"

"What's a 'McCleary?"

He laughed. "Well, I am. Dennis McCleary—that's me."

"Oh."

"Why?"

"Ryan said..." I blushed.

"What?"

"Ryan said I turned you 'gay.' I'm sorry."

Dennis was silent a moment, and then he broke out in wild laughter, doubled over on the bench.

"Oh my God!" he gasped. "Did he seriously say that? Wait, wait—what did he say? Tell me word for word!"

I did my best to imitate Ryan's voice, and repeated what he'd said to me.

Dennis laughed harder, almost catatonic with inexplicable glee, and I watched him with mingled amusement and concern. Finally, he caught his breath, straightened, and looked at me.

"Dude—I'm pansexual, and proud of it. You know what that means?"

I nodded.

"My dad—my step-dad, I mean—says that a man who can't admit another man is hot isn't confident in his own masculinity. I'm pretty confident. Plus, charming as you are, you can't 'turn' someone gay. You can bring out repressed feelings, though, and given how cute you are, I'd bet money that Ryan has a few of those himself."

He laughed again, then his expression softened and changed.

"Anyway..."

He leaned closer and brushed my hair back from my face. Then he leaned a bit closer, and a bit closer still...

And then he kissed me.

He pressed his lips to mine, and his were warm and dry, and a bit chapped, and then he drew away and smiled.

"Hey, look at that," he said, green eyes sparkling with humor. "Dennis McCleary kissed a boy, and he liked it."

I laughed and looked down at my hands where I'd twisted them together in my lap.

Fenn Dayraven had liked it, too, but he'd also never stopped thinking about someone else.

I remembered what Ari had said—that if a person told me how they felt about me, I ought to be honest and tell them how I felt in return.

I liked Dennis quite a lot—as a friend. Beyond that, I didn't know, and wasn't quite ready to find out.

Carefully, I gathered my thoughts, arranged them in my mind, and prepared to say as much.

Then I heard the sirens, and then the first ambulance arrived.