Ten minutes before class with my mom, my dad visited. He said to watch out for Drake, because his "feeding time" must be close. I asked what he meant, and he said that predators tend to run on cycles; they repeat the same behavior, almost on schedule. I told him that Mr. Fly and Richard just want to let Drake drain whoever's convenient, so the school can win at hockey or whatever.
Atlas said, "that's exactly why we need to stop him."
I put my fifth empty bottle of apple juice (from that morning) into the bin. I was still thirsty. I told him I was busy and hung up.

As promised, I showed up to class and aced the test. Je senser intelligente, dans le moment... I guess I just needed to focus. I'm full of it, now... focus, that is. Maybe that's why I focused a little too much on what Tank and Max were saying.
"Gar-pee-ah", Max teased. "You pee any pants lately? Have any ACCIDENTS?"
"Yeah," Tank laughed like a lummox, "you piss them on the way to school this morning?"
I was annoyed, so all I said back was "That's weak."
That made them pissed, probably somewhere in their pants. They started yelling at me, throwing as many insults as they could. None of them were very clever, so none of them landed. Ms. Finch told them to "shut up". Then, they were angry at me for getting them caught goofing off. So they started whispering.
"Hey Grim," Max hissed, "You hear about the pileup on the highway last weekend? They said it was caused by a MAJOR ACCIDENT."
Tank chuckled. "Yeah, so you'd better not show your face for a while."
I said nothing, flipped my hood up over my head, and hunched my shoulders. My blood was starting to get hot.
"I hear your little brother's in Junior League Hockey. Can't you play? What'samatter, your mom likes him better or something?" Max goaded.
"Where'd you hear that?" I growled.
Max gloated, "Mrs. LaFayette told us, when you were out of the room. She said he's playing forward. I bet you can't even skate, I bet you'd PISS in the RINK."
Tank added, "Makes sense, it's not like your parents PLANNED to have you. Can't account for God's mistakes, can they?"
Luckily, the bell rang. I packed up my stuff and left, hoping not to see them again. They wasted no time at all regrouping, so they could taunt me at a distance. Tank went down the hall, but Max hung back for a second.
Max yelled, "Your mom never wanted you!"
I turned back, angry but confused. Squinting, I shook my head, and asked, "Did you even TALK to her about it?! Just because someone doesn't PLAN for a kid doesn't mean they don't WANT them!"
He didn't hear anything I said, and took me defending myself as proof I was bothered. He laughed and pointed, and I'd hit my boiling point. I'd had just about enough of everyone. Especially the two of them. I didn't really know what to do, and the problem was once again that I didn't really want to hurt Max... only show him that I was angry. I figured he was old enough this time, so I kicked him in the ass while he was turned around. He fell over, and it looked like he was going to cry. For all his bullying, I couldn't believe he'd cry over THAT.
"Y-you KICKED me!" he whined.
"You should get used to it, the way you talk to people. You're not big enough to get away with it, like your buddy. And he's not here." I crossed my arms, not giving him an ounce of pity.
And then he just... cried. Years ago, in gym class, he'd made me cry; he pinpointed me with dodgeballs for the entire class. He was surprisingly athletic for his size, and had better aim than I did. I couldn't control my tears, they just... came out. Our teacher took my side at the time, because I was crying and he was yelling at me to stop. But now the shoe was on the other foot. Or, the ball was in the other court, I guess. When Ms. Finch saw us, he was the one crying, and I was the one telling him to stop. So guess who got detention?

Now I'm stuck at the end of the hallway, sitting on the floor, writing lines. Drake was right, this sucks.

Atlas found me, but I didn't want to talk. So Mr. Romero had a talk with Ms. Finch, and she came back.
"That must have been a heck of a fight," he said.
"It wasn't," I told him. "I just kicked him, once. I should have knocked them both out, him AND his friend."
"So I heard," he laughed. "But do you really think those two knuckleheads are worth your time?"
I frowned. "They were calling me names, trying to piss me off. I just gave Max what he asked for."
Atlas sighed, and sat down next to me. "I used to fight, too, when I was your age. I usually won, you see, because of my bones."
"But didn't they hurt?"
"Exactly, mon ami, they did hurt. All the time. It was a pain that nobody else knew, and it made me stronger than them. That meant I needed to be more careful not to hurt them. You may not have my bone problems, but you're tough from your own hurts. That boy, he was smaller than you, no?"
"Yeah..." I replied, starting to feel sheepish.
"You can't teach pain to others by forcing it on them. You have to invite them in, to see it from your point of view. That's the only way to avoid violence."
Suddenly, the floor was vibrating, and a trample of footsteps was approaching.
Drake, dressed well in his Sunday Best, wore a silver cross around his neck. It looked real, too. Behind him, a herd of suited kids with clean haircuts and mild manners waited patiently for his next move.
"I can feel the presence of evil, here..." he said, looking at me. "Worry not, children of God. My Cross of Christ will paralyze the wicked spirits in these halls, by staring down into their pits of depravity with holiness and light."
The kids nodded and looked around fearfully, like ghosts were upon them, and at me, like I already was one. In truth, ghosts were present – a swarm of buzzing sounds accompanied Drake's speech. I heard a ringing in my ear, but I slapped air. They were invisible, and sort of not really there. Drake looked at me with confusion, but turned away to lead his crusade down the halls.
I was pretty pissed off already. "Are you the new priest, or are you just pitching tents for bible camp?" I heard myself say, before I could stop it.
Atlas nudged me with his elbow. "Nice one."
Drake froze, then turned around on his heels. "As you KNOW, this is a CHRISTIAN school, and our HIGHEST EDUCATOR is the LORD."
"Since when do you care?" I shot back, deciding to keep up the momentum. "You know what the bible says about vampires, don't you?"
Drake laughed. "There are no vampires in the bible, you fool."
I smirked. "Leviticus ring a bell? 'You shall not eat the blood of any creature, for the life of every creature is its blood. Whoever eats it shall be cut off.'"
"Well, I had an epiphany, very recently in fact – that if we just told the truth, confessed our sins, and did good by the Lord, we may have less to HIDE, and be able to accept ourselves and our brethren under GOD." He took a deep breath. "Though my father may not accept me, without a doubt... I struggle with temptation."
Some kids gasped.
"But I know the LORD does not punish LOVE or DESIRE, of which I am twice guilty. Only SUCCUMBATION. YOU could stand to learn something from my authenticity and courage."
The whole herd clapped.
"You succumbate all the time," I chuckled. "If anyone here has restraint, it's me not kicking your ass a second time."
He didn't laugh back. "Of course, you're so eager to take credit for MY revelations when you've nothing but words to show for your own. Let's away, now, missionaries. We've much work to do." He let his black jacket go FWAFT in the air and led his sheep down the hall and around the corner.
Atlas shook his head. "What a nutcase. Unfortunately, he fits right in here." He stood up, and wiped the dust off his pants.
I nodded, and decided to stand up too. I was done with my time-out. "That, and everyone already knows what a confession is. It's not like he invented them."
My dad squinted. "Maybe he's really changing. This act seems different from the last."
"Maybe he's becoming more like me, cause he drank my blood." I shrugged.
"But you drank some of his as well, correct? Then wouldn't that mean you're also becoming more like him?" he responded.
I stared at my backpack on the floor, full of juice bottles, and swallowed a dry lump in my throat.
THIRSTY.