I woke up on a Friday, bleary-eyed and feeling sick. My nose was stuffed and crusty, and my stomach was hot. I was running some kind of fever, and I was thirstier than all hell. I grabbed some leftover coffee from the pot my mom left, before she went to work. She was always at school earlier than we were, so we made our own breakfast. I sipped it black, and my cheeks wouldn't stop blushing, without provocation. I felt... squirmy.
After that, I sat in the bathroom, still half-asleep, for what must have been half an hour. Just sitting there, trying to focus enough to get back up. I was listless – my whole itinerary was blank. Except for one item: I needed to see Lana. For a hug, maybe. Or more. But we weren't really past kissing on the lips, yet. It seemed... impolite, of me. To even think about it. So I got up, and washed my hands, then my face. Dried off with a towel, slapped my cheeks a couple times on each side.

I went back to the kitchen for food, and saw something I hadn't noticed the first time: a box on the table. There was an envelope on top of it, which read: 'To Garcia. Happy Birthday! Love, Gen & Felix.'
"Oh, hey! I guess it is!" I said aloud.
The 27th of January, a birthday I'd been made fun of for having by my father. He told me it was the same one his father had, and some of his ancestors before him. They called it 'the family curse'. Real funny. What am I supposed to do, change it? I opened the box right up: it was a watch polishing kit. I felt ripped off somehow, but I guess it was better than a sweater. I suppose, without it, the watch I'd gotten last month would start to look tarnished, and I'd be just a little bit less impressive to Lana's father. So on second thought, the consideration made me smile. What good is something if you don't take care of it? 'Every gift begets maintenance, in some way.' That's what Felix was always saying. He didn't really like getting gifts, though.
Regardless, today was a Friday. It was a school day, but it was the last one of the week, which was perfect. I decided to get dressed for school, and headed back for my room. Todd was in the bathroom now, brushing his teeth. He was – I realize now, I've never described him. Todd was a lanky boy of twelve and a half years, with curly sand-blonde hair and blue eyes. His skin is pallid, his manner is awkward, and his gait is almost as shy as his voice. As far as half-brothers go, he's genuinely amicable. Maybe a little over-attached, at times, but when everyone else in town is cold and distant, that's a fault of his that I'd be sad to see him fix.
He looks over at me, and spits his toothpaste into the sink. "Hey, does the bathroom smell funny to you, today?"
I pause. "Funny... how?"
He sniffs. "Uhh... like warm fish. Or something. Like a cat threw up in here. Did you have salmon?"
My face turns red-hot with embarrassment. "We don't have a cat. And I haven't had fish in weeks."
"Weird," he says, and wipes his face with a hand towel. "Happy birthday, by the way."
"Th-thanks, I stammered. Oh my god. Why would I smell like fish? When he walked, I smelled the air. It was a mix of his, and mine left behind. He was right. It wasn't old fish, either. Not like, an old cod's-head in the trash. It was warmer, more... alive. Almost visceral, like a mist of fresh blood. Hard to describe. I closed the door to take a whiz, standing up. More of that smell met my nose, and I realized it was definitely me. What the hell kind of flu did I have?
I got dressed, and the two of us walked to school. Not a difficult task, we were right around the other corner from it. Not more than a block away. I'd dressed in heavier layers than normal, hoping that between that and last night's shower, I should be clean enough to go unnoticed. I noticed everyone else, though. I felt like all of them were watching me, but I was relieved that on further observation, they really weren't. It was just me, being... hyperattentive. For some reason. They were just congratulating me on turning fourteen. I was lucky to have a class with each of my friends (and acquaintances), so I could invite them over for a party after school. Lana was gone that day, which had me upset. But Tank was gone too, so I guess it wasn't all bad. By the end of the day, I'd invited Russell, Tony, Jules, and by odd coincidence, Drake. Tony and Jules were emptying trash in the cafeteria, as punishment for their assistance in Drake's 'capers', to which the victims were regrettably undertraumatized. They seemed to think they'd been on some kind of amusement park ride, not drugged and assaulted in the dark. Sometimes, I don't get people. Despite everything Drake had done, he'd been allowed to continue his schooling from juvie, which Mr. Fly hoped would keep him from dropping out and getting worse. The old man had practically forced me to bring Drake along; the intention being that if Drake could spend time with friends, he might normalize again. To his credit, Drake was looking sober, and less maniacal. Just scared, and disheveled. I felt a hot flash in my guts when I remembered our evening in the attic, but looking at him now, I swear he could have been my brother. I was drunk at the time, too, when we'd 'necked'. Perhaps, without the chemical intoxication, we didn't have any chemistry at all. That was probably for the best. He smelled even worse than I did – like rotting hay. Drake said he'd been learning to feed horses, and clean up after them. That explained it.

When we got to my house, I made everyone wait outside for a minute; I needed to lock up all the booze inside. That way, there'd be no 'vampire attacks' or disastrous romantic misadventures. When I came back, Jules looked a bit miffed to see Drake there at all, but was able to deal with it. Tony didn't care one bit, and Russell just thought the whole thing was funny. He and Drake traded jokes on the way in, and by the time we'd set up Monopoly, we were like old friends. Jules won, and I swear it was because our banker, Tony, was feeding his pocket extra bills under the table. Drake and I had teamed up to dominate the western boardwalk, and I started to remember why him and I had really been friends: we had fun together, just playing games and cracking one-liners. Russell had long been the black (or red) sheep at school, he told us, and he'd had trouble making his own friends. But among us, he was right at home.
When Genevieve came home with the cake, we were in the backyard, playing snow-soccer against the back fence, with Todd. We were about to take our game to the park, a few blocks way, so she told us to be back before dark. In the late end of January, that meant we had mere minutes. When we came back, our pants were soaked, and some of our shirts, too. I'd dived face-first into snow for a goal-block, so my hair was dripping. Even by the time our fireplace had been lit. I'd forgotten all about my fever, until it struck again. In some kind of mood, I brought up the topic of girls. Jules immediately blah'd, as his previous romance was in the kitchen, licking cake icing off a paper plate. To be fair, he was mine as well – but he seemed now like an entirely different person. As if the real cure, for him, was to stop taking the potion. He said he'd even let his teeth be filed back to normal, last week, and they'd already started to settle into some regular arrangement. Most of us, myself included, had somewhat crooked or misaligned teeth anyway. It made us all look a little bit quirky. But enough about teeth! We ain't dentists, here. The point was, Drake was just a kid again, and our vampiric ex was gone. Almost as if what we'd fallen for was a state of altered distress, that we could share, rather than our own selves. Anyway, that talk was dark. So I brought up Lana, and I soon learned that my friendship with her alone put me a mile ahead of each of them. They were scared to even talk to girls, and in all honesty, I was the closest thing to one that they could manage. They said I was 'approachable', but still looked good in a dress. I took it as a compliment. I don't know why, but as we snacked on our potluck of chips, chocolate, and soda, I felt like talking them through it. It interested me, to know what their hang-ups and insecurities were. I liked improving their confidence, and assuring them that they were good enough. And informing them with some sarcasm, as to where they'd gone wrong. Jules, of course, didn't need any advice. Not only was he bound for other boys, but he was wiser than I was on the subject. Todd sat by holding a pillow, and while Russell, Tony, and Drake grew bored with the conversation, he was hanging on every detail. But the mood had shifted, so we gave it a rest.
I decided we had to end on a daring note, so while we waited for my friends' parents, we played paper hockey on the cleared table. I was, by far, the worst. It was between Russell and Tony, and Tony won just as his dad came to get him. Drake gave me a hug on his way out, and by Richard's instruction, a formal apology.
"I'm sorry," he said, "for my whack-out this winter. I don't know what came over me, but I'm not going to do that again. I'm quitting the sauce, you hear me?"
I nodded, scratching my neck. "Me too. No more hooch."
"You can pick it up later, when you're older," Richard doted.
Drake looked uneasy at that. "...right. For sure."
He'd be back to juvie on Monday, only able to visit his parents for the weekend. A surprisingly lax approach, but at least I knew Drake wasn't the type to run away. He was really more of a nest-defender, and was simply between two at the moment.
Russell and Jules each gave me a handshake, but it was an overly complicated one they'd concocted together, and I had no idea how to keep up. Feeling slightly defeated, I waved them goodbye. As did Todd, who'd really enjoyed their company. Like Russell, he had trouble making friends, too. Though I was struggling with odd thoughts and feelings all night, I'd shaken them off enough to have some good ol' fun, and I felt like I'd found myself a real brotherhood.
Just as the last car had driven away, a new one arrived. Out of it walked Lana, who was dressed once again in her puffy jacket and black dress. Her father watched closely, so I invited her in for just a moment. Out of his sight, I held both of her hands, pleasantly buzzed to see her.
She started to say, "Look, we need to-"
I felt a tinge in my lower gut, and turned warm inside. Without thinking, I pulled her close and gave her a kiss – with tongue. She kissed me back, but then pushed me away, in tears.
She cried, "W-we have to break up. My dad doesn't-" she choked up. "He doesn't want me seeing you, because..."
She started to sob. Her father saw this, as she stepped back toward the door, and he became furious. Silently, he stepped out of his car and marched into the house, and grabbed her by the hood of her jacket. Then he grabbed me at the back of my shirt, with his other hand.
He said, stern as stone, "You two are not to see one another, ever again. Not at home, and NOT at school. It's over, you hear me? You're DONE. There's another young man for her, and it's NOT you. If you can even be called one."
Genevieve walked in to see this, and shouted, "ExCUSE me, WHAT do you think you're doing?!"
Her father let us go, and clapped his hands like I'd been covered in dust. Or like I was dirt.
"Just restoring a little order, to my family. Mind your own, and have a good night, Mrs. LaFayette."
I've never seen such a miserable face as Lana's that night, as her father snapped his fingers to order her back in the car. Calling her 'useless', 'empty-headed', and more.
"What did you do?" my mother asked.
I said back, "I loved her. Apparently, that was an unforgivable mistake."