I took a bag of chips with me to lunch the next day. I wasn't going to eat them, but I was hoping that their mere presence on the table would keep Megan from offering me any more food.

The guys were at the table when I arrived. Megan hadn't shown up yet. I sat down, opened the chips, and placed them suggestively on the table in front of me. I even took out a piece of one and ate it, just in case the guys were paying attention.

They weren't. Porter was talking a thousand miles a minute about Game Toolbox and all its features, what would be included in the first update, and what already needed to be patched. Zero had his laptop open and was typing while Porter talked. Probably not taking dictation, although that's what it looked like.

Porter got to a stopping point in his monologue, and then he turned to me.

“And where have you been?”

“What do you mean?”

“You were gone Tuesday, you missed lunch and chemistry yesterday, and then you just show up again like nothing happened?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“So what have you been doing?” I started to try to make up an answer, but Porter kept right on going. “Because if it's anything other than working on the story, I'm going to kick you in the balls.”

Well. As good an excuse as any. I said, “Have you checked your email today?”

“Huh? No. Which one?”

“Your domain address.”

Porter frowned as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “This had better be related, and not just you trying to change the subject.”

I waited while he pulled up his email account. He said, “Is it this one? New Story?”

“Yeah.”

“What does it mean by 'new?'”

“It means I trashed the old one and started over.”

His eyes shot up to me. He was mad. I knew he would be.

“You started over? After all that work we already did?”

“Just read it,” I said.

He wasn't mollified, but he went back to his phone and began to read. He murmured, “I hope this is freaking award-winning material, Papadakis.”

A minute later, Megan showed up. She sat next to me, as she always does. Then she started pulling out her assortment of homemade concoctions. Foil-wrapped packages, a Tupperware with stewed whatsit, and her Thermos with herbal stuff in it. It had been a source of humor for me and the guys since she started eating with us. There was nothing ethnic or artisanal about what she ate, it was just odd. We called her Thermos her witch's brew. Not when she was around, of course.

“You're back,” Megan said to me. “Were you sick?”

“Nah, just getting some stuff done.”

“I like your hair. It looks hot.”

I'd done nothing to it this morning except wash it. I said, “Thanks.”

“Want a muffin?”

“Is that another one of those sex muffins?” Porter said. He didn't look up from the phone. Megan turned red and didn't respond.

I said, “That's okay, I've got my chips.” I placed a big, round one in my mouth. I couldn't make myself chew it. It dissolved into papery mush on my tongue.

This whole time, Porter was eating a sandwich with his left hand and scrolling through my story with the other. His face was tight with concentration. Hopefully also interest. The story was good, so it wasn't his validation I wanted. I just wanted him off my back for a while.

Then his eyes widened. His jaw worked on the sandwich and his eyebrows got higher and higher. Suddenly, he choked a bit on the sandwich. I knew exactly what he was reading.

“Whoa,” he said, once he was breathing again. “Interesting twist on the getting-slashed-while-banging trope.”

“Thanks.”

He scrolled back up and read through the scene again, this time slower. He said, “Wow.”

“What happens?” said Megan. “I want to read it.”

“This isn't appropriate for your virgin female eyes,” said Porter. His virgin male eyes must have been mature enough to handle it because he read through the scene a third time. To me, he said, “Are you expecting Sid to illustrate this?”

“I hope she will.”

“'Cause that means you'll have to let her read it.”

“I know.” Sid was the one I was least worried about. She knew all my real secrets already, so I wasn't too worried about showing her my fictional ones. Besides, something told me her imagination was black enough to make mine look like a Dr. Seuss book.

“I don't know why you've been wasting my time with that terrible story when you could have been writing this,” Porter said.

“Do you think it'll work?”

“Of course it'll work. We can start on it this afternoon. Are you still grounded?”

“Yeah.”

“Then Zero and I will work on the program and you keep writing at home.”

“Okay. Just so you know, those chapters are all I have.”

“That's fine. Just stick with it.”

“I'm hoping I can bring the plot back together at the end, but---”

“Screw the plot. Keep it interesting, and people will play.”

Screw the plot, he says. Spoken like a true executive.

After lunch, Porter jumped up and headed to his next class. He moves like that. In bursts.

I hung back. I wanted to talk to Zero privately. Didn't look like it was going to happen. Megan stayed. She always stayed. Felt like she was always there. Could I really ask her to be 'always there' forever?

Soon I no longer had a choice. It was either talk to Zero now or miss my chance. He still had his laptop out. Still programming or whatever he was doing. He was the opposite of Porter that way. He'd walk into class one second before the bell rang.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

[https://img.wattpad.com/11d926173a104caa4e4700adeae7883a613642fe/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f635a61486579524d7a486a5056413d3d2d313336383532303837392e313737393932616266373335386136663733393037333037303237342e706e67]

“Hey, Zero,” I said.

He looked at me.

I said, “Have you ever hacked into the school system?”

“Which system?” he said.

“I don't know. School records?”

“Sure,” he said. “Why?”

“Could you change my contact information so my mom doesn't get texts when I'm absent?”

I had no idea how he would respond. Zero and I had never hung out without Porter in between us. I thought of Zero as Porter's other friend. Not, strictly-speaking, my friend.

He said, “That's a different system, but I can do it.”

“Really? That would be great.”

Fingers tugged at my sleeve. Megan. I looked at her.

“Are you going to skip school?” she said.

I didn't see any reason to lie to her. I nodded.

“Why?”

What was that look on her face? Worry? Disappointment? I couldn't interpret it, and I didn't want to answer, so I didn't say anything.

She said, “Can I come with you? I want to skip, too.”

“Sorry, no,” I said, and I considered explaining myself further. I settled on a more firm, “No.”

Zero was typing furiously. His face, though, looked about as blank as ever. He said, “Is this about Emily?”

Oh, god. He had to ask that question in front of Megan. I wanted to get his attention and make a face that would stop him from saying things without thinking, but he never looked up from the computer. In the end, I had to say, “No.”

“Emily?” said Megan. “Emily Harding?”

I ignored her.

“Nate, you're not going out with Emily Harding, are you?”

“Of course not.”

Zero tapped a few more keys, and then he said, “Done. Your absence notices will now be sent to the fax machine at my orthodontist's office.”

“Will it kick in today?”

“It'll affect any texts that haven't gone out yet.”

Relieved, I said, “Thanks, man. I owe you one. Like, if I ever have anything you want, just let me know.”

“Okay.”

After lunch, I left to see Sid. I found her sitting at her sewing machine, stitching together mountains of red spandex. She looked a little better than she had the day before. At least, she did until I fed from her.

I only took a tiny bit, enough to get me through the rest of the school day, but it wiped her out and put her back in bed. She glared at me as I tucked her in.

“Nate.”

I didn't look her in the eye.

“Nate, talk to Megan.”

“I don't want Megan,” I said.

“Why the hell not?”

Maybe it was selfish of me, but I didn't want to permanently graft someone like her into my life. I'm sure she was a nice girl or whatever, but I just---I didn't like her. I didn't like how needy she was. How she interrupted every conversation. How she talked to me like we were a couple that just hadn't consummated our couple-dom yet. And the only reason I would even consider asking her was because of all those things. Her need and desperation. The fact that she liked me. Taking advantage of that would be like using her for sex.

“You know why not. I told you why not.”

“So what? Emily and I don't want you, but we're stuck with you. At least Megan would be happy.”

“And what if she wasn't? What if she said no?” Then she'd know what I was but she wouldn't have the bond keeping her quiet about it.

Sid understood. She said, “Then don't tell her anything. Just bite her. She'll get used to it.”

I could not believe those words had just come out of the mouth of Sidney Cross. I said, “I thought you were a feminist.”

“I'm a survivor. And survival is starting to look like less and less of a given.”

“I can't just bite her. It's wrong. At least you were given a chance to fight. She wouldn't even have that. She'd never forgive me.”

“Yes, she would.”

I didn't know how she could be so certain of that, or if it was even relevant. She sank back against her pillows and closed her eyes. It seemed like the conversation had worn her out. But she said:

“You know you're going to have to do it. Two people are not enough for you. I can't stand up without blacking out and you look like a starving cat.”

I couldn't argue with her anymore. Because she was too good at it. And also because she was right.

Finally, I conceded. I said. “I'll talk to her today.”

But Sidney didn't respond. She was asleep. Which was a nice way of saying unconscious.

* * *

I made myself think about Megan all the way back to school. Specifically, I thought about whether or not there was a way to do this without being unfair to her and/or making myself miserable. Maybe having her around wouldn't be so bad. I'd learned to like Emily a little, even though, from my position as a geek, Emily was chronically unlikable. But now things Emily said to me that would have crushed my ego two weeks ago kind of rolled off my back. Maybe Megan would be like that, too. I'd learn to care for her as one of my own and take nothing she said too personally.

That was all assuming that she would say yes. She'd likely turn me down. Crush or no, that's what any sane person would do.

This bond thing was such a pain, and so, so inconvenient. Why didn't vampire books ever talk about this? In books the vampire could always come and go as he pleased, feeding off busty virgins on their four-poster beds and leaving them with nothing more than a tiny wound and foggy memories of a dark, sexy stranger. Literally, none of that applied to me. When I bit girls, they were left with bruises and disgust and a crippling addiction to a guy they didn't want.

I wondered if it was possible to get blood without biting someone. And, if I could, would it matter? What was causing the bond, anyway? Was it the biting or the drinking? Biting seemed to be the most likely culprit. I didn't see how my drinking something could create an addiction in someone else.

Anyway, I also had reason to believe that Sidney was right. When I bit a person, something was getting injected. I could still remember the feeling of Parva's venom, or whatever it was, burning its way through my veins. Was I doing something like that to Emily and Sidney? Was there a way to test it without milking myself like a rattlesnake?

What if I could get someone to give me a little blood in a different way?

Now this was something I could maybe ask Megan for. I'd have to tell her my secret, but maybe she liked me enough that she wouldn't gossip about it to other people. Maybe I could drink some blood and get some nourishment, and maybe we wouldn't bond.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Was it worth the gamble? Did I have a choice?

I got to school twenty minutes before the last class let out. I got my backpack from my locker and went to the science wing to wait for Megan. I knew where she was because she and I had chemistry together last period. Emily was in that class, too, even though she was a year older. It wasn't because she was stupid. It's because Megan, Porter, Zero, and I were a year ahead.

When the bell rang, I put myself against the wall as nonchalantly as possible and waited for Megan. I didn't want Mr. Goodman to see me when he opened the door and dismissed the class. He didn't. His eyes glided right over me like I wasn't there, but, then, it didn't seem like he was really paying attention.

Kids came out, and when Megan walked toward me I waved to get her attention. She smiled and hurried over.

“Hey, I thought you were leaving!” she said.

“I did, but I came back. Listen, I want to ask you a favor, but---”

In her eagerness, she cut me off. “Ask me anything! I can do it.”

I looked at the people who were walking by. First was Zero, who did nothing more than raise an eyebrow at me as he passed. A few paces behind him was Emily. She looked back and forth from me and Megan, confused and increasingly displeased. But she didn't interrupt or say anything. She just kept walking.

To Megan, I said, “Do you have a couple of hours you can give me this afternoon?”

“This afternoon?”

“Yeah. Like, do you think you could come to my house?”

Her mouth opened a little. She seemed stunned. She said, “I'd like to, but I don't have a car.”

Of course, she didn't. Guess I was going to break my grounding again.

I said, “Where do you live?”

“In Bestworth.” She was blushing. Bestworth was a notoriously bad area. Not “bad” in that you were likely to get shot there, but “bad” in that it was really poor and sort of dirty and mostly mobile homes. But it wasn't too far away from where I lived, in the opposite direction from the school.

“I can come to your house,” I said. “If that's okay.”

She pressed her lips together and glanced over her shoulder as though someone might be eavesdropping. She looked torn. Finally, she said, “You can come, but my dad is kind of . . .”

“Protective?”

“No. He's more like---actually, both my parents are. . .” She rubbed an elbow with one hand and lowered her voice. She said, “For one thing, they're both unemployed. That's just for starters.”

“Oh,” I said. “Well, I don't care about stuff like that. If it bothers you, though---”

“No, I'm okay with it. If it doesn't bother you.”

“It doesn't.”

“Okay. I have anime club until four, but I'll be home by four-thirty. You can come over then if you want.”

“Sounds good. Thanks.”

She smiled, but she still looked uncomfortable. Maybe I should have picked a different place to meet, but where else could we have any privacy? A coffee shop? Seven-Eleven?

She gave me her address and her phone number, and then she hurried away.

I headed to the student pickup area and got there just before my mom pulled in.

When I got in the car, I scanned Mom for evidence that she knew I'd skipped. I didn't see any, and she didn't ask.

She did kiss me when she let me out at the house. Then she said, “I wish I didn't have to go to work, but I don't have a choice. Please, Nathaniel. I'm begging you. Please be good until I get home.”

If only she knew how hard I was trying to be good. I said, “Yes, ma'am.”

Her eyes were worried, but she left me and drove away. I wished I didn't have to keep deceiving her, but I didn't have a choice.