He slid in beside Meredith and slumped forward, resting his forehead on the table.
Meredith rubbed his shoulder gently with one hand and said, “It can’t be that bad.”
Vlad mumbled, “Is it time to go home yet?”
“ Three more hours to go.”
“Then it’s that bad.” He sat up, offering her a meek smile. “How’s your day?”
Meredith launched into a long, detailed, enthusiastic account of her day in typical girl fashion. Vlad tried to pay attention, but he was enormously distracted by Henry, who was lingering near the so-called “popular table” a bit too long for Vlad’s taste.
But then, what business was it of Vlad’s if Henry decided to hang out with the “in” crowd? It’s not like he and Henry had a signed contract of friendship that prohibited Henry from being friends with anyone else. Or that Henry was bound to him at all… Vlad sat up straight. Oh, wait. Actually, that was the case. But still, it didn’t give Vlad the right to pick and choose Henry’s friends.
Did it?
Being the vampire who made Henry into a drudge, just what powers did that give Vlad? What rights? Vlad wasn’t sure. He was sure that he didn’t much care for the kinds of friends that Henry seemed to be associating with of late. But did that give him the right to change it, to stop Henry from making that choice?
Vlad chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully for a moment. Knowing that his drudge could not disobey a direct order, he called out, “Henry! Come here.”
Unable to resist, Henry furrowed his brow and crossed the cafeteria toward Vlad, tray in hand. When he got there, Henry stood for a moment, looking almost pained and absolutely angry. Vlad nodded to the empty seat across the table from him, trying hard to keep his tone light and friendly. “Have a seat. Eat your lunch.”
Henry sat with an air of indignation. Vlad was only slightly bothered by the fact that he was ordering his best friend around like some kind of human slave. Meredith had grown incredibly quiet. The three sat and ate in utter silence for several minutes.
Halfway into his peanut butter, jelly, and blood-capsule sandwich, Vlad noticed that as much as Henry and Meredith seemed to be making an effort not to look at him, somebody else was trying to catch his attention. A goth girl, whom Vlad recognized as another of the kids who sat on the front steps of Bathory High at night, nudged the thin boy named Sprat forward, muttering, “Just do it!”
Sprat stumbled toward Vlad’s table, looking more than a little uncomfortable. When Vlad smiled at him, it seemed to put him at ease. Sprat said, “I wanted to thank you.”
Vlad was about to say that if he was talking about the thing this morning with Bill and Tom, it was really no big deal, but then they were joined by the other goths: a raven-haired girl with black fingernails, a silver-haired boy who always seemed aloof, and a tall, thin boy with black eyeliner. The girl spoke. “Actually, we all wanted to thank you. It was pretty cool of you to stick up for Sprat like that.”
Vlad’s smile grew. “Hey, no problem. It was really no big deal.”
The girl said, “Well, it is to us.”
“If you ever feel like hanging out-” Sprat began, but the girl cut him off.
“Yeah, if you ever want to, we’re cool with that, okay?” The corners of her mouth lifted in a small smile as she glanced at Meredith and Henry. “We don’t bite. And contrary to popular opinion, we don’t dance around graveyards and raise the dead either.”
Her smile grew as she turned her attention back to Vlad. “I’m October, by the way. You know Sprat. The guy with the raccoon eyes is Andrew, and this silver-haired soul is Kristoff.”
Vlad nodded to each of them, and October continued. “So anyway, there’s this goth club in Stokerton called The Crypt. Maybe we could hang sometime.”
Vlad responded at first by blinking. The very idea that people he hadn’t known since kindergarten wanted to hang out with him weirded him out, but in a strangely cool way. Still… he wasn’t sure Nelly would be too keen on the idea of him spending time in anything that remotely resembled a nightclub. Vlad smiled sheepishly. “I’m not really much for clubs. But thanks anyway.”
October frowned, then flashed a fake smile to mask her disappointment. “Suit yourself.”
The goths turned collectively and were about four steps away from the table when Henry muttered, “ Thank God the trick-or-treaters left. I’m all out of candy.”
Vlad couldn’t snap his eyes to his drudge fast enough.
Henry smirked. “I mean, c’mon. Halloween’s over, guys.”
To his disgust, Meredith chuckled at Henry’s cruel quip.
Eyeing both of them, wondering exactly what made them think they were better than kids who chose to dress in black, Vlad released a tense breath and turned back to the goths, who turned around at the sound of his voice. “Hey, you guys. On second thought, I’ve been meaning to get out more, meet new people… I’d love to check out The Crypt with you guys sometime.”
October, Andrew, and Sprat met his eyes with smiles. Kristoff just kept on walking.
Henry and Meredith grew quiet. Vlad let them. Sure, maybe he was only agreeing to go with the goths to prove a point to his friends, to show them that they shouldn’t judge people based on whether or not they wear thick black eyeliner. But it was a point he needed to drive home, that different didn’t automatically equal bad.
He picked up his peanut butter, jelly, and blood-capsule sandwich and took a bite, ignoring their guilty glances.
The rest of lunch passed in tense silence.
Vlad strained against his leather bounds, but they were fastened tightly to his wrists, and there appeared to be no possibility of escaping. He strained his neck, but could barely see the room that he’d been trapped in. But he did recognize it.
The nightmare was always the same.
Above him hovered a dark figure, and out of the shadow that surrounded it appeared a silver blade. Moonlight glinted off its razor-sharp surface, and Vlad shivered with fear.
He closed his eyes tight. It was just a dream. Just a dream.
The man plunged the blade downward, ripping it through Vlad’s stomach. Pain lit up his body, and Vlad screamed.
Vlad’s screams continued until he rolled off his bed in a sweaty, tangled mess; his sheets were wrapped around his legs like boa constrictors. He scanned his dark bedroom and breathed a sigh of relief.
Just a dream.
He clutched his side and winced at the pain it caused him, then crawled back into bed.