Chapter 2

“How good of you guys to join us, Mr. Mazzini and Ms. Bevan. If you hadn’t already aced this class by now, I might be inclined to give you detention or something. However, as you’re not typically tardy and you’re two of my best students, I’ll cut you both some slack,” Adam Hugo singled us out before moving back on topic.

Pneumatics ... fascinating as ever, even if I was somewhat lacking in breath or air myself. I still felt as if the air had been kicked or knocked out of my lungs, in fact. I looked it, too, prompting Maria Mazzini, my own first cousin, to hand me her inhaler to help with what she thought was asthma. She also looked at me very funny for some reason, particularly at the way that I interacted with Lindsay, my lifelong best friend.

The rest of the class was mostly filled with Maria staring at me, then at Lindsay, and then Lindsay staring at both of us. We each tried not to make it too obvious or draw too much attention to ourselves, but damn, this was awkward as fuck! I also noticed the way that Mr. Hugo stared at me ... with desire. Oh, God’s teeth, I realized ... my gay shop teacher wants me! Well, to be fair ... he was easy on the eyes, too. His build was lean and muscular, his olive complexion similar to my own ... when I wasn’t pale as fuck from whatever made me weak today. His beard was rather neat and trimmed, too.

“Thanks ... for the inhaler, cousin,” I handed the inhaler back to her, not ready for her reaction.

“Nope, keep it. I got extras. Here,” Maria smeared the inhaler along the cleavage of her fine, C-up tits, and handed it back to me, “think of me whenever you huff it ... once you’ve recovered. Cousin.”

Her wink really felt odd now, given that she was, well, my cousin. As in first cousin. As in, not someone who typically would hit on me. Her father was my mother’s brother, after all. Mom had never married Dad, you see, so she kept her maiden name until she wed him ... Jerry Larson. A bruiser whose family came over from Sweden, and Mom being Mom, she picked the least likable member of the clan. He was a professional boxer turned trainer, sparrer, and bouncer. I liked boxing, but he looked and acted like he took too many hits to the face or head or something.

This was all fucking weird, especially given how much I now thought of and recalled despite never noticing before where the veins in Jerry’s flesh were. The same was true of good Uncle Salvatore, Maria’s father, of Maria herself, of Mom ... of Natasha, of Heather, of Chelsea, etc. It was true of Maria’s mother, Donna, of Maria’s sisters, Nina and Vera, of Jessica Cortez, of Anne Fairfax ... of Adam Hugo, of Coach Brown, of all of them. Why did I constantly see where every vein, artery, and capillary was? It made no sense at all.

That was when I went to lunch, Lindsay following me along with Maria, and even Kat Summers and Amber Dumont stared at me across the cafeteria. I noticed also that David Schuyler, Trevor Barker, and Addy Swearingen all looked at me like I was a juicy beefsteak one minute, then like I was a Great White Shark the next. They were far from alone. I could sense ... emotions. Not thoughts. Just feelings. Fear. Lust. Hate. Love. Envy. Jealousy. Pride, even. Curiosity. Abject terror and awe as well. I was usually the object of bullying and derision, and it didn’t take long for at least some of them to brazen it out by returning to their usual conduct.

“Hey, wimp, what are you doing with two ladies? You should be alone or else bent over a table, taking dick in your cornhole ... or sucking cock straight from someone’s pussy or ass! I don’t like you having female company, dickwad. You’d better make some distance or I’ll kick your wimpy, cucky, sissy butt! You know that you’re just a tiny-dicked wuss! A little pale virgin boy who likes to act mature and above it. Don’t ignore me, you piece of trash!” Starfish Wilson, yes, that was his name (don’t ask me why), the football team captain and quarterback chuckled.

I tried to ignore them still and eat my lunch, but now that I had no appetite in spite of my serious weakness.

“Yeah, he’s just a little piece of fake geek incel trash, you know,” I heard Melinda Wilson, Starfish’s sister, a bit of an arrogant bitch who happened to be student council president for whatever reason, tell us.

Knowing Melinda, those were words she probably picked up from somewhere else. I doubt that she could have defined “incel” without someone doing it for her. Probably Oliver Manson, her boyfriend, or Courtney or Stacey Horne, identical twin sisters who still bullied and hated me without any real explanation. Sure enough, Courtney walked up to me and slapped my face without warning or so much as a word. Stacey then approached me and kicked me right in the groin as I tried to recover from her twin’s assault.

I doubled over in pain and began throwing up dry heaves, unable to hold down any food or drink at all day. To make matters, the sunlight came out too easily through the windows, making me weaker still. Any appetite for my lunch that I might have had, not much at that, was long gone, too. I glared at each of them and they backed off, especially Oliver, whose pants now showed the wet spot in the crotch from pissing himself.

I felt and heard a low growl coming from the pit of my stomach, too, something that the others must have heard as well. I still felt weak and dizzy, even faint, but I dealt with that by walking away and heading away from so much sunlight. I didn’t want anything more to do with anyone else right then, not even Lindsay or Maria. I was livid, also very much still in pain, my cock and balls very sore thanks to Stacey’s kick and everything.

I didn’t see the danger until it was too late to stop myself. Principal Lewis Hogan was more than a little slow on the uptake, unlike Vice-Principal Samantha Roth, who at least attempted some semblance of decency, fairness, and justice. She just got overridden a lot, that was all. Hogan cornered me in the men’s room, stared me right in the eye, and wagged his finger in my face.

“Have you been drinking, young man? You look hungover! I don’t know what you did to deserve being kicked in the groin by Stacey Horne, but she doesn’t do it without cause, nor does Courtney Horney slap someone if it isn’t justified. You can’t sexually harass girls, no matter how much you might like them or how drunk you are, young man. I don’t want to suspend or expel you, so watch yourself, okay? I just want you gone from here as soon as you graduate. What you do after that is up to you,” Mr. Hogan insisted now.

“It’s not like that, Mr. Hogan,” I tried to defend myself for once, but he shook his head.

“I don’t want some sob stories about being bullied or hazed by the popular kids. You’re not a geek or nerd, either. You’re just a slacker and antisocial loner. An incel, like they said. Girls don’t owe you sex, you know. Girls don’t bully guys. They’re not strong enough to do so. All bullying of boys is done by other boys.

“From what I could tell, these guys are just defending the girls that you’re terrorizing with those Evil Eye stares of yours. If you’re trying to threaten people with curses or whatever, just know that curses and magic aren’t real. I, on the other hand, have the power to kick you out, young man. Don’t make me do it. Let’s just try to stay out of trouble and finish the school year in peace, okay?” Mr. Hogan glowered at me and kept backing me into a corner.

“You’re always sticking up for bullies, I see. You don’t care about truth, justice, or anything like that. You just hate me on general principles and think that I deserve to be bullied. Just stay out of my way, though, and get them to, and then we’ll have no trouble our last week. Savvy?” I pushed back, taking Mrs. Fairfax’s counsel now.

“Bite me, you snotty little brat... , “ Mr. Hogan taunted me, “I’ve known boys like you all my life, boys with chips on their shoulders who seek to make my life miserable whenever they can after they grow up, all because they couldn’t take a little character-building hazing. Boys like your Uncle Carmine, for instance. What a prick!”

Mr. Hogan really fucked up now, as Uncle Carmine, my mother’s other brother, was the late fire marshal who had been killed during a blaze saving many lives in the process only three years ago.

“What did you say?” I demanded, glaring at Mr. Hogan, who to his credit wasn’t as cowed by me as some others ... he must have really hated me or had a death wish.

“I said, bite me, you smartass prick... , “ Mr. Hogan got no further than that as he dropped his pants and shoved my face down to his exposed cock.

I grabbed his dick, pretended to go along with his demands for oral sex, located a very rich vein, and sank my fangs into it. Wait, I had fangs? What the actual fuck? Mr. Hogan looked very pallid for a moment, even after I withdrew my fangs from his prick. He crossed himself, pulled up his pants, and ran out of the john like a bat out of Hell. I looked in the mirror and realized that some color had returned to my face now. What the Hell? What had happened to me? It didn’t make sense, unless...

“VAMPIRE! VAMPIRE! Charles Mazzini is a vampire!” Mr. Hogan began screaming for all to hear as I exited the men’s room, his face white as a ghost.

“What the Hell is the matter with you, Lewis?” Samantha Roth demanded to know the commotion.

“That boy ... he’s ... he’s ... a VAMPIRE, a bloodsucker, Nosferatu, the undead! He attacked me, Sam! Expel him at once ... send for the cops ... he’s a VAMPIRE!” Mr. Hogan screamed even louder now, making everyone stare at him like he had a second head.