So I started seeing Drake after school. It's not, like, a date or anything. And it's only yesterday and today. So it's more like... I've seen him.

He used to be really gross, and awkward, but he's completely changed. It only took him two days! C'est trés bizarre, mais bien. Nous avons êtê traîner- I mean, we've been hanging out around the neighborhood. We talk, throw rocks, hold hands... well, once anyway, when I tripped. Unlike Tony, Drake is no rooster. Unlike Jules, he seems genuinely interested in what I have to say. Unlike Max, he's become a true gentleman... or maybe he already was one, and just needed to discover it.
He told me he'd gone back to find Jules after the library incident, so he could get help studying. What I wanted to know was where he'd been for the last year.
"I was pulled out of school," he said with a heavy sigh, "by my dad, who you'll know as Coach Richard." He took a deep breath. "My dad owes a lot of money to someone, and he couldn't afford to keep me in school. So he had me help him out on some construction jobs. Now he works here at the school, so I'm allowed to go again." He stopped walking.
"Is he the one who dunked your head in water and made you write lines?" I asked, feeling sorry for him.
Somehow surprised by the question, he nodded. "Yeah, he did. He was upset because I told him that God wanted me in school. My dad is Muslim, a lot of people in Romania are. But my mom wanted me to grow up Christian, and so do I." Drake looked up at the sky. "I'm not his pawn, I don't have to do what he says. That's why I ran away from home, and I've been sleeping in the woods outside the school." He pointed in their direction as he spoke, and my sorriness grew to sorrow. "The cold, it claimed my warmth in the night, until I met Jules. His parents gave me a cot, and we shared his room. I've never known that kind of hospitality from anyone but my mother."
I asked, "Where's your mom now?"
He shook his head, unable to speak.
Hearing his incredibly sad story, I was about to offer him the help of my family, but before I could, a familiar old face popped out of a familiar truck. It was my father, Mr. Romero. Drake froze in place, I waved. He walked in the school's direction, dressed in the usual teacher's uniform. I wanted to introduce Drake to my dad, but Drake had somehow disappeared.
I walked around, looking for my new friend. I stopped to rest underneath a pine tree, and I was ambushed by brown strands on top of my head. It was Drake, hanging upside-down from a branch. How did he do that, I wondered? He leapt and flipped to his feet on the ground, still in the tree's shade. Before I could say anything, he pulled a tiny bottle of vodka out of his coat pocket, and put it in my mouth. Glug, glug... oh man, that... stings. Blegh. I breathed a little too hard, and coughed even harder. My head swirled, tightened, and I was choking. Then, I was alright... tingly, even. He kept the rest to himself, which was fine by me. Guess he got that... sample size. Nice. We ran around back alleys, or at least I ran while he kept an even pace behind me, cool as a cucumber.
"Slow down," he said, "You'll stop your heart."
"MY HEART IS UNSTOPPABLE!!" I yelled, and jumped from one closed dumpster to another, then onto a cement barrier, where I walked like I was on a tight-rope.
"You sure have a lot of energy," he sighed.

Night was starting to set, and the rain was falling. Drake took me to Jules' house. Jules and his parents were having dinner, and we joined them. I hadn't had macaroni and cheese in a while, it was nice. They'd already made extra for Drake, so they didn't mind at all. Jules' father, Augustus, had a big orange beard and fluffy hair on top. He was big and burly, wearing a white tank-top and suspenders. His mother, Livia, looked a lot like Augustus, but without the beard. They were both really nice, if not a little scary. Just like Jules. They were aware of his situation, and out of the goodness of their hearts, wanted nothing more than to help a child in need.
After, we went up to the attic, where they'd prepared Drake his own room. It was un-renovated, with bare wooden struts along the walls, and a ceiling that went to the very roof. I could hear the rain's pitter-patter on its surface outside... it was entrancing, and peaceful. The curtains on his window were closed when he opened the door. I had to admit, the level of privacy offered here was easy to imagine taking advantage of. Hopefully nobody here enters each others' rooms without an invitation.
What I'd learned of how relationships worked – that it was supposed to be between men and women – had suddenly slipped my mind. Somehow, I felt as though I was expecting a romantic encounter, and my pulse quickened. I started to sweat. Drake put the same tiny bottle between my lips. He opened the curtains, and we passed it back and forth, as the wind stole the rain. The rain fell hard, and a refreshing mist filled the land, illuminated by glowing orange streetlights. I could have fallen asleep right then and there, had I not been so wired.
Then, at last, he turned to me and grabbed gently the back of my neck. I puckered my lips for a kiss, and closed my eyes, but his lips never met mine. Instead, two piercing fangs stuck the flesh of my neck, and I felt my fear rising – as I went to scream, he closed my mouth and put his to my fresh wounds. He didn't suck my blood, though. He just kind of sucked at my skin, and bit really hard, like he was trying to make a bruise. It felt really disgusting, and he held me in place with his strength for a good two minutes. After all the build-up, this was kind of lame. Then he used his canine-teeth to sink through my battered skin, letting out dollops of blood. I could barely feel it, but by now, I was ready to punch his nose in.
I pushed him off. "Are you..."
He stared deeply into my eyes. "Say it."
"Are you a cannibal?!" I asked, point-blank.
"What? No, I am a VAMPIRE! I drink blood. This is blood-letting, it is very sexy, is it not?"
"N'est-ce pas, mon frérot." I replied, reactively. Guess the Immersion was paying off. "It's painful, it's scary, and I wanted a kiss."
"All in good time, my bride... we must wait, until the moon is full," he whispered, trying again.
He was doing the accent again, and being weird. I wasn't having it. Not only that, but the moon was barely at half. He wanted me to wait TWO WEEKS?
"No, listen." I started. "I don't care if you think you're a vampire, or if you have really sharp canines, or that you're some unstoppable dark force who has to 'FEED' because you 'can't control yourself'. I'm not here to watch you go 'Beast Mode'. I've seen all of this before." I told him.
"Yes, we have known each other, once. Years ago-"
"No, keep listening." I continued. "It doesn't matter how 'sexy' you are, or how suave, or how well you dress. I don't care that we're both guys, I don't care that you keep playing this weird, dumb game, and I don't care that you went missing for a whole year!"
Drake started to speak, but I didn't let him.
"What BOTHERS me is that you keep trying to CONTROL me, HOLDING me in place so you can do WHATEVER you WANT to me! You don't care what -I- want, you aren't INTERESTED in COMPROMISE. Do you understand what I'm SAYING?"
Drake squinted, looking hurt to be yelled at. "You... want me to kiss you right now?"
I took a deep breath and yelled, "No, you IDIOT! I WANT you to show me BASIC COURTESY and RESPECT MY PERSONAL SPACE!!"
As if on command, his wall lantern went out, and he cried. I didn't. My shadow grew to cover the room, until only his white fangs and scared eyes reflected in the dim moonlight. I stood up and covered my neck, which bled down my arm and through my fingers.
"You hurt me, you didn't ask first, and you're lame. Relationship over. Call a psychologist for your fucking... vampire problem. Good night, Drake."
He sat up and hissed at me, angry, but no tears in his wide eyes. "You are a pitiful and ugly creature, you are horrid, neither man nor woman, and you know nothing of my kind! You are a THING!!"
He lunged at me, and I slammed the door. He opened it, and I punched him straight in the face! He staggered back, not because I was a very hard hitter, but because he bit his tongue all the way through with his fang. It clung to his ivory spike like a piece of beef on a grilling stick, and blood rushed into his mouth and overflowed down his chin. God, he must have filed the stupid things that way. He grabbed me with both arms as tight as he could, and his blood dripped down into my gasping mouth. I tried to spit, but I was so scared, I accidentally swallowed it.
"NO!!" he cried, suddenly terrified. "You mustn't drink my blood, or you'll-"
I stepped on his foot as hard as I could, and broke free of his grasp. He fell back onto the floor, and screamed in pain, but got up quicker than he'd dropped.
"You don't understand, if you drink my blood, you'll turn-"
"My back on you forever? We're way past that, asshole," I grunted, and fled.
I disappeared down the stairs. Augustus and Julia were already asleep, and Jules was the only one who'd heard anything. He saw the bruise on my neck, and raised an eyebrow, smiling at me. I glared at him, and stuck out my tongue. A drop of blood fell off of it, which made things look even worse. I made my way down the stairs, my legs heavy with fear but determined to move. As I touched the front door, and put my hand against the wood to feel the rain beating against it with a crack of thunder, I heard a sickening wail from behind:
"YOOOOOUUUU OOOOOOWWWEE MEEEEEEE!!!"
I huddled my arms together and shivered as I ran, from one dark corner to the next, to return home unseen by my predator. I saw his scowling, bloody face with its twisted grimace peering out from behind that door, and I watched his eyes lock to my movement as I dashed around the building. Wet, splashing footsteps pursued me, until I managed to evade him by hiding under the neighbor's porch. He sniffed around, but the water washed away my blood, and despite the mist he could carry no scent of me to his flaring, angry nostrils.
He growled. "If I can't drink from your neck, I'll wring it."
I kept my body still and my breathing silent as he slowly turned back for the house he came from. When he entered, I waited. When he seemed gone, I waited some more. I went to leave, and he popped out once again, keeping watch through the rain for me to make any kind of movement. So, there I remained, until finally he gave up.

I went back home to my tiny room in my own house, finally safe, and I stripped off my wet clothes and found myself in pajamas. Holding the scythe-staff, half-dazed still from the vodka and fear. My head was pounding. I went to the kitchen, and I drank as much water from the tap as I could fit in my belly, and finally flopped onto my bed for the night, clutching my weapon. I wanted to cry.