"Damn it, Adam Davis Cohen. Where are your braces?" My father swore, watching me pretend to munch on eggo waffles and syrup at the dining room table. They tasted like cardboard, bland and chalky, and I wanted to puke, but I swallowed whatever I could while avoiding my father's glare. "Do you know how much money came from my pocket for those?"

"What?" I shrugged.

"Go to school," my father growled, pointing to the stairs. "I'll deal with you when you get home." My father looked at the floor, his face hidden as he ushered me out of the room.

I ran back up the staircase in my white socks, almost slipping on the satin finish, catching myself as Hannah's glare met mine.

"I heard Erin, and you made the team." She said, standing at the top steps.

"So," I asked her.

"I heard Blake made the team, too. Don't you have a crush on her or something? That's what Jeremy told me." She watched me as I slipped past her and down the short hallway.

"So, what?" I snapped again. There was no point in arguing with my lunatic sister. She was mad if she thought she could manipulate me. I was a predator of the night. I could sink my fangs into her skin faster than she could roll her beady eyes, but I would never hurt my sister or father.

"You know what, Hannah? I have to get ready for school," I watched her eyes meeting mine, a cold stare as she studied me.

"Nobody likes you, Adam," she growled. I rolled my eyes, flipping the bird at her as I shut my door. I was finally getting some peace.

The jar of blood Erin gave me yesterday was stored in my drawer. I pulled it out, relieved to see more blood in the mason jar. I slipped off the top, fangs tugged from my gums, and sucked down as much blood. There was a knock on my doorway. I quickly screwed the lid back on the mason jar and dropped it in the dresser, watching it shatter and splatter blood all over the wooden base.

"Son of a bitch," I muttered, hearing the knock again.

"Adam, are you okay?" my father called. I panicked, looking for something to clean the blood from my bloodstained pajamas and boxers. I had nothing.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

I quickly slammed the dresser with my newfound strength and severed the wood—a splinter was poking through my thick, indestructible skin barrier. I groaned in pain, trying to break the skin with my ragged fingernail, forgetting my father was waiting at the door, and as my fangs clamped onto my open palm, the door screeched open.

"Are you ready for school, champ?" My father asked. I quickly spun around, removing my fang from the deep wound in my hand, watching the skin stitch together. At least I got the splinter out. "Is something wrong?" My father asked again. His eyes landed on the broken drawer. Rugged splinters sprang from the damaged wood, watching half of the drawer collapse to the floor.

"Blood, Adam? What the fuck?" My father screeched. "Are you hiding something from me you want to talk about?"

"It's," I hesitated for a moment. "It's, uh, fake. It's for a project Erin and I are assembling for science class. Vampires. We, uh, we're studying vampires and other mystical creatures." I forced a fake grin, forgetting my fangs were full-cocked, and it turned into a scowl. "These are fake. Plastic." My fangs disappeared, and I smashed my face into an invisible wall. "They retract too?" I added more like a question.

"Uh-huh," my father didn't question me. I was relieved. "Clean this up. You have half an hour to finish getting ready and get these in the wash, or I'm leaving without you." He watched me, his eyes meeting mine, reassuring me I understood him correctly, and he disappeared out the doorway down the steps. I slammed my head into the wall, nearly breaking the plaster barrier. My hand skimmed the broken wood, and I groaned. Another splinter. Son of a bitch. I was so not used to being a vampire.

∆∆∆

"How the fuck did you convince my father to let me go with you to Oregon during summer break?" I slammed my locker as Erin leaned casually against the locker next to mine.

"My dad can be very persuasive. It's a wolf thing," he said, winking at me. Cocky much?

"Like what? Hypnotism or something?"

"Look, I can't give away all of my tribe's secrets, or they'll force me to kill you." Although I could tell he was joking, there was dead silence. He shrugged, slamming his locker shut, and we wandered down the hallway. "If you get hungry, let me know. I have something in my backpack for you.

"I don't want it. I don't even want to be a—" I hesitated as Hannah rushed straight to Jeremy, sitting in the back corner of the room with the jocks and cheerleaders.

"I'll make an exception for your sister. It's like an all-you-can-eat buffet in—" I slammed my hand into his gut, causing him to double over on one desk.

"You don't have to get physical," Erin groaned through the pain as he curled up in a fetal position on the classroom floor.

"Shut up and get off the floor before you make it worse," I snapped, putting my arm out for him to grab. I helped him yank himself from the floor while the cheer squad, Jeremy and Hannah, stood there watching and chuckling at the two of us.

"Nice bloody job, blue boy," Jeremy heckled from the other side of the room. "I'll give you a five-dollar bill to do it again."

I huffed, rolling my eyes as the overhead bell rang and Mr. Pinsker wandered through the door. "Okay, take your seats, everyone!" He announced. We looked at one another briefly before drifting the teacher to the desk. There was an uncomfortable feeling in my gut, but I fought through the pain as class began. "Class starts in five minutes." He said. I quietly lowered my head to the desk, closing my eyes to concentrate as Blake pushed through the doorway and sat beside mine.

"Hi, Adam," she whispered. I silently waved at her. I didn't know what to say so. Instead, I studied her as the final warning bell rang.

"Please take out your grammar books and turn to page one-hundred thirteen," Mr. Pinsker announced. We all quietly dug into our backpacks for our books, and class began.