“Nick! Look alive, man!”
“Easy, boys,” Coach Singh hushed but came close to Nick to murmur, “You all right, Nick? Your head is not in this scrimmage.”
“I’m sorry, miss,” he said, because it was all he had. He sniffed, mentally getting a grip to finish the scrimmage and go home.
Home, where he dumped his bag on the stairs and went to the kitchen for food. It was hard not to notice the bouquets of flowers his mother arranged at the sink while she asked, “Good practice, Nicky?”
“Not really,” he sighed into the fridge.
“No? I’ve got a pizza for you in the oven.”
“Thanks,” he voiced, settling on a soda. He popped the tab of the can as he asked, “What are the flowers for?”
“Charlie brought them over. He said they were free to take after the party finished. I can only imagine what it looked like inside the hotel if he was able to steal away this many.”
Nick stood frozen, his heart low in his gut. Now that he properly looked at them, they were indeed familiar. He forced himself to take a deep breath and turned the light on in the oven to check the progress of his pizza.
“Do you want a little bouquet in your room? I don’t want them all in here or else it will look like we’re hosting a wake.”
“No, I don’t have any surfaces to put it on,” he refused, and went about getting a plate and pizza slicer ready.
In his room with his lunch, he opened his laptop. His fingers hovered over the keys. He tried searching, vampire biting. The results gave him an unnerving amount of Halloween material, porn, and news sites that he knew his mother and aunt particularly despised for their prejudiced biases. Since they threw several VAMPIRE ATTACK headlines at him, he understood why.
He tried again. Blood bags vs biting gave him a list of sub-reddits.
AITA for not wanting my bf (31 vamp) to bite me (29f)?
AITA for wanting biting during sex?
Nick frowned and clicked on the second one. The long and short of it was that a guy wanted his vampire girlfriend to bite him during sex because he thought the sex was better that way. The responses were divided:
You’re the asshole. Her fangs, her rules.
Sex is more intimate with biting but if you need it every time you’re either not that into her or you’re addicted.
Follow up question, why is she telling you no? Blood from the vein is way better than anything from the banks.
I need more info on the girl. Weird for a vampire to say no to raw throat.
The comments devolved into people arguing over the reasons a vampire would say no. Nick thought it all sounded weirdly entitled on the human side. But a question remained—why were they so eager to be bitten?
He searched, human incentives for vampire bites, and met more sub-reddits. His attention also clashed with more news articles.
VAMPIRE VICTIMS UNITE IN COURT CASE
VENOM ON THE RISE: LEARN ABOUT THE DRUG AND HOW TO STAY SAFE.
ABDUCTED VAMPIRE FOUND: VENOM TRAFFICKING.
Nick’s heartrate slowly escalated as he went into the sub-reddit. Apparently, there was a great deal of incentive for humans to appeal to vampires for biting.
Yo why is my local blood bank always empty? Do vamps use a secret entrance or is it all a front?
I went with my boyfriend to a blood bank once. He’s diabetic and they have the transfusions to stabilize his blood sugar. It’s a real thing.
The banks are real but vampires hate them.
Why would vampires hate their grocery stores?
My sister’s a vampire and she says the stuff in the bags tastes like gasoline.
How does she know what gasoline tastes like?
Nick shoved his laptop away and laid back against his headboard. His attention tugged to Nellie bodily shoving his door open and stepping up onto his bed. He pulled his plate onto his lap and took a dejected bite, immediately realizing how hungry he was.
He still wasn’t sure how he felt about finding Charlie drinking from someone. But the overarching conclusion was that he didn’t like it. As for why he didn’t like it, he still had to process that out…
Nick’s features scrunched and he pulled his computer to him once more. He typed, what is vampire venom?
Perhaps to be expected, medical sites popped up, but to Nick’s intrigued relief, one of the top results showed a blood bank website. It dropped him right into their Q&A page with an anatomical diagram. Nick didn’t know which threw him for a loop more, the fact that vampire venom was a real thing or how it worked.
He exhaled out of his nose and picked up his phone. He went into Instagram, where all had been silent from Charlie. He sent, I have questions.
The ellipsis popped. Okay.
Charlie stared at his screen until he realized he wasn’t breathing. Inhaling a rushed breath, he exhaled it all at once and collapsed along the length of the couch. Belle lay across the top of the couch, utterly unbothered. Tori walked by him with a pizza slice in one hand and a drink in the other. “What’s wrong with you?”
He did not respond immediately, but relinquished, “Someone walked in on me feeding.”
“Did they report you?” she asked in a bored way, and bit through her pizza.
“No,” he answered, a slight question in his tone.
“Did they run away screaming?”
“No? But they definitely ran away,” he answered and then looked at his messages.
Are you home?
He responded, No I’m in London. Belle has to have blood work—he backspaced—Belle has a preliminary vet visit before her spay.
Meanwhile, Tori asked, “Are there some sort of compromising details you’re not telling me?”
Michael emerged from their bedroom with a plate, now empty of pizza. “Were you naked and the bite was of a more coital nature?”
“No,” Charlie complained. He read from Nick, Your vet is all the way in London?
I’ll live here soon so I wanted her sorted with a vet here.
He sighed heavily and set his phone down on the coffee table beside him. He surrendered aloud, “I like someone. He walked in on me feeding.”
Michael set his plate in the kitchen but stood between the breakfast bar and the living room. “Have things progressed enough with this person for him to be offended by you drinking from someone else?”
Charlie rubbed his eyes and Tori deduced, “Is he a crush, a hook-up, or an actual boyfriend?”
“I don’t know! Sort of all and none of the above right now. We’re nowhere near biting, and I’m not sure we ever will be.”
“Why not?” Tori asked in her deadpan way.
“Based on how he ran away, for one.”
“Did he not know you were a vampire already?”
“He knew.”
She started to lose interest and voiced on her way to the bedroom, “At least we know he’s not taking advantage of you for your vampire traits.”
Charlie groaned, “Wow, silver lining.”
“We have to feed,” she finished. “He can either get over it or go away.”
His attention pulled to Michael setting down a plate of pizza for him. “Ninety percent of human-to-human problems are results of misunderstandings. I also made that statistic up, but really, maybe it’s not as bad as you think. He might’ve just not known what to do in the moment and reacted poorly.”
Charlie’s mouth pinched on the side. He started to sit up for his food. “Thanks, Michael.”
“Or it is as bad as you think, and he made it easy for you to decide on a different crush.”
He’d caught Charlie with his mouth full, so Charlie was only able to glare up at him. Michael took his cue to leave, “I’ll go. Co-op later?”
“Now is fine,” Charlie mumbled, cleaning his hands on a tissue. He glanced at his phone but decided to turn it over, screen side down. The magic of messages is that he didn’t have to respond right away. He sat back on the couch to play video games with Michael, and let his hometown drama stay there for a while.
As for Nick, he finished his pizza and left his bedroom to take his dish downstairs. In doing so, he passed a small vase on the hallway console. He stopped at the bouquet, his fingers reaching out to feel the matte velvet softness of the petals.
He took his plate downstairs, and on his way back to his room, took the vase. He cleaned his room—even if his statement about not having a free surface hadn’t been honest in the first place—and put the flowers on his dresser beside his light switch.
* * *
I’ve read that vampires don’t like blood banks. Is that true?
We use them more for emergencies, Charlie answered.
Do you always prefer a person to a bank visit?
Usually. Kind of circumstantial.
What was the circumstance at the hotel?
He offered, Charlie responded.
Over the course of several days, Nick courageously typed his questions and Charlie answered them. It would have been faster if he could sit down with Charlie to unpack it all, but he supposed messages would suffice. And he didn’t know how Charlie would react to his list of questions he had typed out to help him keep track of his thoughts. Thoughts which only seemed to be ongoing as he gained more and more crumbs of Charlie’s world.
Did you know him beforehand?
No.
Isn’t that dangerous?
Most of the hotel staff are vampires. We look after each other. I don’t drink from the same person twice.
But what about when the season ends and you work somewhere else?
I’ll handle it.
Nick respected the boundary and instead ventured, So…venom.
Yes?
I never heard of it until now. The stuff online about it is a bit wild.
I don’t know what to tell you, Charlie said.
Can I at least get confirmation that it’s real because I’m still slippery on that.
It’s real.
And it actually heals injuries??
Only superficial ones. It’s not regrowing organs or curing cancer.
No I get that but you’re like covered in scratches…
Venom doesn’t work on vampires. Only humans.
Seems like a faulty system.
I didn’t design it, Charlie agreed.
People don’t go to a doctor for a venom medication right?
Right. I’m pretty sure vampires prefer most humans not knowing it exists.
Drinking from strangers only seems more and more dangerous.
Charlie did not respond to that. Nick supposed it might come across as scolding, or the dangers were too overtly obvious to be commented on, but it was a speedbump he could not avoid. He did not like Charlie relying on strangers more than the regulated blood banks.
Another day went by with nothing from him, so Nick tried a different question. I have a question that is probably immature.
Charlie responded, Okay.
Is it true that venom makes people horny?
Yes.
Is that all I’m getting?
Charlie provided, Venom hits whatever proclivity or mindset a person is having in the moment, which for a lot of people is horny. Sometimes it’s just relief.
Relief from what? Pain?
Yeah. And temperature regulation. Venom keeps a person warm or cools them off. I haven’t experienced it obviously so I don’t fully know.
That’s ironic.
Charlie went quiet again, and Nick did not know why until he checked Instagram and found a video post. Charlie had a recording of Belle wearing a specialty vest whilst pacing figure eights against his legs. His hand entered the frame to pet her while she purred incredibly loudly. Charlie captioned it, Spayed werewolf.
Nick felt like kicking himself. Her surgery! Of course Charlie was busy! Nick listened to the video again, smiling to himself at how ferally happy the cat sounded under her medication.
What’s more, Charlie had been tagged in a post. The guy named Tao posted a carousel of pictures featuring Charlie, his sister and Michael, as well as Isaac, but most prominently, a litter of kittens. By the looks of them, they were so new that their eyes were still closed. Nick swiped through them to Charlie holding a tiny furry bundle in his hands. His eyes were downcast, an overwhelmed smile on his face, like he were holding back tears. Tao captioned it, Went to the vet for moral support and got to meet a batch of fosters.
Charlie commented, Now why would you post this?
Tao, Because I love you and to store my blackmail.
Elle, How fast did he cry?
Isaac, Twelve seconds flat.
Charlie, EXCUSE ME.
Nick huffed a laugh through his nose…before his features pulled down on the same strings connected to his sinking heart. He missed Charlie. A lot. Seeing him just as he was, as a beautiful man with a sensitive heart, made Nick ache. Once upon a time, Nick had hoped to go with him to the vet, or to be with him during his day off taking care of Belle. But he’d let his head get stuck in the clouds, or more accurately, stuck in that garden with a man he didn’t want touching Charlie.
Oh.
Well. That was it, wasn’t it? Nick was jealous.
Nick let his phone slide into his lap as he thought intensely on that. Jealous? Of…being bitten? Or just anyone else being with Charlie in such intimacy? Nick had never thought about being with a vampire in any capacity, simply because vampiric traits were not what he saw first or even second. He knew some of the boys in rugby who were vampires but only because, as captain, he had access to some conversations with his coach about players’ needs. Otherwise, he never treated them differently. He never saw a reason to. Vampires were people, and the biggest issues in his life were other humans like Harry and Nick’s own brother—
“I can almost see the steam coming out of your ears.”
The voice cut his thoughts into confusion and surprise, but everything came back together with familiarity and glee. He looked over his shoulder at his aunt standing over him, her hands pressed into the horizontal beam of the couch. “Diane.”
“Hello, darling boy,” she beamed, her voice squishing with his hug as he stood up onto his knees on the couch. “My god, you’ve grown.”
He chuckled and eased back down. “I didn’t know you were in town.”
Diane tossed a thumb over her shoulder at Sarah in the kitchen. “Your mum told me there’s a music school thing you wanted to go to. My kids will be in their A-levels faster than I can breathe, so Rich and I have made it a bit of a research trip.”
“Are they with you?” Nick asked, listening for the telltale sounds of kids in the house.
“No, they’re with their grandparents,” she apologized, petting a hand over his shoulder. “Next time.”
“Next time,” he agreed, while his eyes alighted to his Uncle Richard strolling into the kitchen.
“There he is!”
Nick grinned and stood up properly to come around and hug him. Then he frowned, “Do either of my cousins like music? No way you’re moving to be closer to our music school?”
Rich shrugged while pulling out a kitchen chair for himself. “It’s less about the specific school and more about how focused sixth-forms work. But I heard there’s a concert in it for us? I love a concert, and supporting students is worthwhile.”
Nick looked at his mother, who mirrored his epiphany with an expectant look. “That’s tomorrow!”
“So it is. Do you have anything you want washed to wear? The information online says casual attire but I’m sure some people will take it up a little.”
Nick went to his room to pick out a nice shirt and his newest jeans. He didn’t need them washed but he did bring them down to iron in the kitchen while Diane and Richard caught up with them over wine. Diane offered, “Nick, are you venturing into wine and beer yet or no?” She winked at him before sending a cheeky smile at her sister.
“I have mum’s wine on special occasions, but the last time I had beer was at my dad’s last summer. It doesn’t suit me yet.”
Diane poured him a small glass. “I love you. That’s special enough.”
Nick smiled through a sip and folded his outfit for the next day before helping his mother with dinner.
* * *
Nick sat in the back of the car with Richard, his face close to the glass to see the Cecilia School of Musical Performing Arts as they pulled in. It became visibly apparent that, where Truham’s defining colour was blue, Cecilia’s was red. Student volunteers had been instructed to wear their uniforms, which consisted of black trousers, crimson blazers, and white shirts with either ties or bows of their choosing. The girls’ skirts were a black and red plaid, and Nick noticed a rose pin on her blazer as the usher saw them into the auditorium.
Richard leaned into Nick to murmur, “This place has money.”
Nick agreed, but he kept to himself how a music school would have to have money, wouldn’t it? Instruments were expensive and he knew nothing about audio equipment, but he assumed it would be much the same.
When they navigated through the aisle and settled into their seats, Nick looked around and realized the concert hall yawned with a gallery behind them. Students in both casual attire and uniforms were filling the rows, laughing in their friend groups and engaging in the general rowdiness that Cecelia students had the privilege of in their own school.
Nick’s head rotated at his mother rejoining him. “I got us some playbills. We passed them on the way in.”
He took one and passed the rest to his aunt and uncle. The information inside it was largely the same as the school’s website, but Nick still pointed at Charlie’s picture amongst the guest alumni. “I know him,” he said to Diane.
She smiled at him. “He’s a cutie. Drummer…and a resonator,” her attention piqued.
“What exactly is that?” he asked. “I know what resonance is, vaguely.”
She set the pamphlet on her lap to use her hands while she explained, “A resonator is someone who…well, it depends on the person. Typically, it refers to someone who has a strong resonance or a wide outreach with it. Because of this power, they—hopefully—learn how to train it and hone it like a skill. Resonators are often hired by venues to…read the room, or even to influence the mood. They’re the ones you call to get a party started. Many famous musicians are also resonators.”
Nick processed this and asked, “What’s the downside?”
Her head tipped to acknowledge he had a point. “Resonators are known for being sensitive people. Resonance can act like a net that catches anything. The stimuli of many people, or the rudeness of a few can overwhelm them. Think of it as a room full of yelling, or minding your business until someone yells in your ear or shines a light in your face.”
Nick’s brows pinched. “That doesn’t sound great, to be honest.”
Richard intercepted Diane’s attention, so Nick was free to let his eyes wander. Based on the concert hall filling up, the show must be close. Despite the crowd, Nick’s attention kept catching on a person a few rows in front of him. Nick tried to really look at him, like maybe he was a Truham person also visiting the school. Except he seemed a bit too grown up to be a Truham student. Perhaps he was just tall? Too tall to ignore—
The man leaned down to say something and smiled at the woman next to him. Nick almost startled, he recognized her so abruptly. Tori. They were Michael and Tori! Tori’s head turned to her other side, looking at the same person Michael leaned forward to address. Nick peered at the two older people who must have been Charlie’s parents. Nick had never met them…should he have met them? If he’d been inside a vampire’s house, oughtn’t he have met the owners?
He let it go as the lights overhead flickered softly, announcing the last call for people to find their seats. Diane patted Nick’s knee excitedly. Nick made sure to silence his phone before the lights faded to darkness. Giddy, tense anticipation opened wide with the stage curtains sweeping open. A grand piano stood in the middle of the stage in a lone spotlight. The rustle of fabric and grunts of people adjusting themselves prickled the silence until the pianist started playing. She hopped right into an upbeat, simple measure. The sort of thing Nick expected to hear in an old timey pub or piano bar.
The piano prologue swooped right into another spotlight blooming to life, revealing the drum set the same time Charlie joined her song. Charlie! He wore a faded red baseball cap, the visor protecting him from the bright light while he played.
Another spotlight illuminated a man standing in front of a microphone stand. He started with a sonorous croon, but as the song picked up, the rest of the stage filled up with light for a full band and the genre morphed effortlessly into a modern pop fusion. Diane leaned into Nick to whisper, “Charlie’s quite good.”
Nick’s cheeks lifted with his eager nod. Because Charlie was good. He moved over the drums and cymbals with all the ease and comfort of having studied and mastered them. Not that Nick ever doubted him, but seeing Charlie be inarguably good at something made pride swell in Nick’s chest. Even more, as the bridge made all the other instruments go silent apart from the drums. Charlie shined as he built up the song’s finale. The bassist rejoined Charlie first, followed by the singer and the rest of the band again. Nick smiled at Charlie swaying a little on his drum stool, keeping time as well as dancing a little.
Diane twisted to look up at the gallery. Inspired, Nick looked back at the students moving like this were a real concert, not merely a school event. Nick supposed he must be too accustomed to Truham, a school that prided itself as a jack of all academic trades with a student body jaded by all of it. It was cool to see how passionate the people here were. Nick also couldn’t help but imagine Charlie up there, red blazer complimenting his dark brown curls and smiling.
The song finished on a punctuated note, and the concert hall erupted with applause. Especially from the gallery, where students yelled all manner of things they probably were prohibited from doing during school hours. “You better work, bitch!” made laughter ring out amongst the students. Nick saw the alumni musicians smiling as they gathered together in a line to bow. A piercing, shrill whistle yanked Nick’s focus over to Mr. Farouk—
Mr. Farouk? Truham’s science teacher?
Nick’s brows furrowed incredulously as he saw not only Mr. Farouk standing in the ovation, but Mr. Ajayi, Truham’s art teacher, and Nick’s own rugby coach. He whirled around to say to his mother, “Mrs. Singh’s here!”
“Really? We’ll say hello later.”
The curtains slid closed over the stage, giving them only a glance at the alumni guests turning to walk away. The lights stayed on, however, and the alumni walked onstage with a chair in one hand and a microphone in the other. They lined up their seats and sat down. The audience sat as well and Nick observed Charlie taking in the lighting of the place before deciding to turn his cap backwards. Nick could only guess it was so more of his face was visible, but Nick liked how his curls escaped the edges of the hat. He also noticed how Charlie had his own collection of the rose badges on it, as they gleamed and reflected the overhead lights.
A teacher on the end of the stage greeted into a microphone, “Hello, hello! Welcome to Cecelia’s annual alumni weekend. Please, do give another round of applause for our returning students and special guests!”
The row of alumni shared mixed reactions of humble pride and mild humiliation at being directly clapped at. The moderator moved on to introduce them, asking each musician to stand when they heard their name. Michael waved his arms in the air for Charlie, who grinned with fondness and embarrassment as he sat back down.
“Now that everyone is known, let us progress with our panel, entitled, ‘Music, Continued.’ I am Dr. Geryon, and our goal is brag about how this line of people has successfully kept music in their lives and to discuss the music scene out there in the real world.”
Charlie crossed his knees, slotting a hand in between his thighs to hold it there while he listened. The hand holding the microphone rested on his lap, his gaze down and far away until the singer next to him leaned over to whisper something in confidence. Charlie smiled and Nick’s brain lit up a neon sign reading, He’s so hot.
Nick sighed inwardly and rubbed his eyes. Get a grip.
The moderator scolded, “Robbie Wun, I see you haven’t changed. Always corrupting Charlie into trouble.”
The singer splayed a hand over his chest, melodramatically aghast. “Why am I the serpent when he’s the apple?”
Charlie’s face scrunched in a what-the-fuck expression but he crooned back, “Flirt with me after the panel—Oh. Oh, this is too much power,” he crooned into the mic. Chuckles in the crowd made him elaborate, “I’m a drummer, so I’m usually far away from this thing.”
Dr. Geryon segued, “As your vocal coach, I know this is untrue, but let’s start with you.”
Charlie deflated like he did not want to be in his old professor’s spotlight. His previous classmates laughed in glee, and Nick could only marvel, Charlie sings?
Dr. Geryon continued, “Charlie, you’re signed under a professional label. Give us a rundown of what you’ve been up to.”
Charlie lifted the mic to his mouth once more and explained, “I’m not a permanent musician to a studio. I’d like to be, but seniority and all that plays a part. I’m also in university, so my time is split. I take short contracts with studios or labels; my contract just wrapped up this winter, but they signed me again for the summer because I worked on the mini debut album of a singer. She and I hit it off and we actually filmed a couple of music videos—on our own budgets, mind you. Music labels are parasites. Protect your souls, children.”
He wiggled witchy fingers up at the gallery and earned whistles and laughs for it. Dr. Geryon continued, “When you say you worked on the album, do you mean you recorded the percussion for it, or more?”
“Percussion and lyrics. I’m credited as one of the writers,” he answered, but perked up when salacious, Oooo, moved through the alumni line. Charlie wiggled his shoulders bashfully. He also took the wind out of his own sails with, “Writing doesn’t make what it used to in the nineties but it’s still bragging rights.”
“Were you there in the nineties?” the moderator countered.
“In spirit,” Charlie teased.
Dr. Geryon asked, “When can we expect those music videos, then? Or are they already out?”
Charlie’s brows flicked up with recollection. “No, they should be debuting online this summer, I’m pretty sure.”
“Congratulations on your contract renewal. That’s one step closer to that residency you’re wanting.”
“Thank you,” Charlie smiled.
“And now you, Robbie.”
Robbie said right into the mic, “Oh, fuck.”
Charlie and the others burst into laughter, along with much of the crowd. Nick liked the panel. Hearing each student’s goings-on and being given snippets of their individual personalities and senses of humour. The panel was not all about professionalism, though. Dr. Geryon turned the conversation into a philosophical one with, “Sometimes students are able to graduate from an academic environment and work immediately in musical prestige. However, usually, you all leave us to find yourselves at the bottom of the ladder. What words of wisdom can you impart now that you all understand the differences and similarities between academia and the real world?”
Charlie lifted his mic and said, point blank, “You’re not at the bottom of a ladder. You’re in the grassroots of culture. Everything big or trending came from down here. Voguing was in the drag bars of New York City before Madonna. Your favourite band could only get seedy gigs in Brighton before a record label picked them up. It’s not a ladder. It’s a wheel. Everyone at the top either steals from the bottom or rides it to the top.”
Robbie pointed at him. “That. Very that.”
The pianist agreed, “You’ll find that the real world works a lot like academia. Bureaucracy, bullies, bullshit—sorry parents, thanks for coming—There’s all this paperwork and abstract walls, gates, and barriers that no one talks about, but then they look at you like you’re the fool for running into them.”
Robbie seconded, “You either nepo-baby your way to the top or you’re so good they can’t ignore you. And that’s the route they can’t deny you, because the audience decides what they spend their money on. That’s what you’re learning here, the audience to music symbiosis. Charlie said culture—you are the medium of culture.”
“My word, Robbie, we got through to you after all,” Dr. Geryon commended.
Robbie jabbed a finger at Charlie’s hat. “I have the same bouquet as him, thank you very much!”
Charlie turned his cap back around for his brim to hide his face while he tucked his chin for his pins to be on full display. Dr. Geryon wrapped up the panel with, “For our visitors, we award rose badges to our students for impressive accomplishments. Charlie was Head Percussionist every term of his sixth form and Robbie won every bloody talent show we put on.”
Robbie threw his hand up, giving Charlie a beat to notice and then they high fived loudly. The smile that never left Nick’s face faltered. He remembered how Charlie and the concierge high fived when…when they fed. He understood that now. Tiny celebrations for dinner on the job.
Dr. Geryon sighed like he missed them and couldn’t wait for them to leave. “Feel free to harass our alumni with questions in the lobby, or throughout the weekend as they are joining various instructors for special courses. You may see the classes on offer in the pamphlets our ushers are carrying. Thank you all very much for joining us in kicking off what we are sure will be a weekend to remember.”
The audience applauded a final time, during which the alumni stood up to clap as well or wave goodbye. They walked backstage, a definitive cue for everyone to stand up and leave. Nick moved with the flood of people into the lobby, where they found the alumni and teachers already positioned to chat and meet people. Nick stood by with his family, using Michael’s height to locate Charlie…
Charlie, after smiling and laughing on stage, now looked seriously at his sister. Then he bowed at the waist, offering his hat to her. Tori took it off his head and pushed the brim low over her eyes while he put his arm around her shoulders.
“Aren’t you going to say hello?” Sarah prompted.
Nick fumbled, “I-I don’t know when is the right time.” Were he and Charlie on good enough terms to meet each other? Was something wrong with Tori that would cause him to be in the way somehow? Did Charlie not want him to meet his family?
Diane justified, “The entire meet and greet is the right time.”
Sarah countered, “We’ll give our regards to your coach first.”
Nick could do that much, at least, and followed his mother to approach the person he knew the longest in the room aside from his family. Mrs. Singh looked different today; with her hair down and colourful, non-sporty clothes, she looked like a regular person instead of ready to corral teenage boys. She stood chatting with a tall blonde woman until she caught Nick in the corner of her eyes and turned full to meet him. “Nick! It’s good to see you here.”
“You as well,” he smiled. “I didn’t expect to see so many Truham teachers here.”
“Ah, yes,” she hummed keenly, sending a look through the crowd. Nick followed it to where Mr. Farouk eased out of a hug with Charlie. Considering that Mr. Farouk was renowned for being a downright stick in the mud, his affection and animated body language came as a surprise. Mr. Ajayi also hugged Charlie before he conversed with Charlie’s parents. Mrs. Singh continued, “Charlie was one of the only out boys while he was with us at Truham. We couldn’t do much for him there, but we like to see him thriving beyond it. It’s good to get away from our own school now and again. Nick, this is my wife, Eliza.”
Nick’s brain whiplashed between her heartfelt statement and then the news that his coach was married to a woman. He thankfully had the autopilot to shake her offered hand. He might’ve said a bit too enthusiastically, “Nice to meet you!”
“And you. Priya speaks very highly of you. Are you his mum?”
“I am. Sarah,” she introduced.
“Priya says Nick’s one of the only boys with a sensible backbone. You’ve done very well.”
Mrs. Singh sighed, “And this is what you get when you meet teachers after hours.”
Sarah blurted a laugh that was louder than any Nick had heard in years. She rubbed a hand on his back and said, “Thank you very much, but Nick deserves half the credit. Why don’t you go stand with Charlie, love? Save him from your uncle.”
Nick’s head whipped around, indeed finding Charlie talking to his Uncle Richard and Aunt Diane. He stammered, “Oh-Uh-See you later,” but his coach and her wife smiled understandingly.
Nick had zero plan. All he had was old muscle memory of sidling up to Diane’s side the same way he stuck by his mother during family parties. Diane sensed him beside her and pivoted to let him into the conversation circle. Charlie glanced at him, the corners of his mouth lifting but not much else of a reaction since he looked at Richard again, politely listening to the man finish. Nick didn’t know what the conversation involved, but Charlie fiddled with the curls on his head while pointing to the pianist alumnus, “Melony’s dad actually might know who you’re talking about. There doesn’t seem to be a keyboardist he hasn’t met… Hey.”
Nick’s lungs did the thing where they filled with air but he couldn’t use any of it. “Hey.”
Charlie smiled shyly. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I said I was…didn’t I?” he realized.
“Maybe. I dunno,” Charlie retreated.
Nick rushed, “Anyway, this is my aunt, Diane, and uncle, Richard.”
Apparently, his family had failed to provide the details of their connections, because Charlie’s eyes went wide. “Oh my god, you brought an entourage.”
Diane chuckled, “He did. I’m glad, we enjoyed it.”
Charlie caught his cheeks in his hands. “Was it okay? Dr. Geryon’s favourite thing in the world is to put us on the spot.”
Nick’s brows pinched over a smirk, because how could Charlie think he did poorly? From Nick’s vantage point, Charlie might have been the moderator and the audience’s favourite. But then again, Nick was biased. “Okay? It was great. The show was amazing.”
“You have to say that, you’re my friend.”
“Mmno, as your friend I have to keep you humble since you’re about to have music videos. You never mentioned those!”
Charlie rolled his eyes but smiled, “We filmed them back in March. I forgot about them since I was training for my other job. Hi, Sarah.”
“Hi, Charlie. Well done in there,” she said as she put an arm around his shoulders for a hug.
A hug. Nick hadn’t even hugged him before.
“Thanks,” he said tiredly over her shoulder. They parted and he directed, “This is my mum and dad, Jane and Julio.”
Nick’s head turned, finding Charlie’s parents next to them since they’d finished talking to the Truham teachers. After Sarah shook their hands, Nick said his name, and Diane came forward to ask, “Julio? Where are you from?”
“Spain,” he perked up. “Southern Spain.”
Diane squinted a little. “Andalucía?”
“Almería,” he corrected.
Richard leaned in to annotate, “You’re going to get me a holiday, mate. You’re saying all of her favourite words.”
Diane swatted him harmlessly and declared wistfully, “Spain is my favourite place in the world outside of my own house.”
Julio looked positively chuffed by this news. Meanwhile, Nick gently traded places with his aunt and uncle, moving to Charlie’s side. Charlie answered a Cecelia student’s question about when his class was—“Tomorrow. The schedule says twelve to two, but it depends on Dr. Geryon. Workshops can go long with him.”—as well as the singer, Robbie, calling over the heads of the crowd.
“Charlie! We still on for dinner and games tomorrow?”
He nodded, “Yeah, text me.”
“Will do!”
Charlie returned his attention to the immediate people around him…and the fingers brushing along the backs of his own. Charlie’s gaze plunged down into the shadows of their bodies, the crowded lobby providing ironic privacy despite being out in the open. Nick’s forefinger extended between Charlie’s fingers—
The only reason Nick knew Charlie had sent out a spike of resonance was because of every vampire’s head in the lobby turning to them in a perfectly synchronized motion. Charlie’s jaw dropped but he choked on a dry throat and put his hands over his face like a visor. He said aloud, “Sorry!” and more quietly, “Tori, give me back my hat.”
“No,” she said from his other side. Where she had gotten a sports drink, Nick didn’t know, but he guessed it was the same place from which she’d brought a straw.
Jane reached behind her to touch her son’s shoulder. “Charlie, are you ready to go?”
“Yeah, sure,” he agreed, and hazarded a look at Nick. He uttered softly, “Bye.”
“Bye,” he repeated, because he didn’t know what else to say right now, and with so many people around.
Charlie felt his sister’s resonance in his mind as well as her arm around his waist as they walked to their parents’ car. “So, that’s him?” she asked quietly.
His lips pinched tightly but he answered, “Yeah.”
“He’s gorgeous. I can’t blame you,” Michael chimed. “Football?”
“Rugby.”
Tori teased, “You do love a lad, don’t you?”
“Please,” he begged.
Charlie squeezed in between Tori and Michael in the backseat of the car. It was not an unbearably tight fit, given his skinniness and Tori’s petite frame, but he and Michael were dangerous with their knees.
As Julio drove out of the Cecelia School grounds, Jane twisted in her seat to ask, “Who was that boy?”
Charlie froze but said remarkably naturally, “Nick?”
Jane’s brows lifted. “Do you like him?”
Charlie could hardly deny it after his outburst. He sighed and looked anywhere else. “Yes, I like him.”
Julio peered in his rearview mirror. “How do you know each other?”
“He volunteers at the hotel.”
“He’s not a Cecelia student, though?” Julio guessed.
“No. He…he goes to Truham.”
The pause from his parents was stifling. Jane broke it, “How old is he?”
Charlie replied almost haughtily, “Sixteen.”
She frowned deeply at him, but not at his expense. Julio spoke for both of them with, “What are they feeding the boys at Truham now? They weren’t that big when Charlie went there, were they?”
Jane recalibrated and insisted, “Charlie, that’s far too young.”
“I know,” he droned.
“Maybe when you’re older, such age differences won’t matter, but right now, they do.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” he curtailed. “It’s not going anywhere anyways. I’m moving in just a few weeks.”
“Does he know that?” Jane persisted.
“Yes, he knows.”
“A Tie is forming between you, Charlie. I could see it. You need to be careful his attachment doesn’t grow stronger, for both of your sakes.”
“I should be so lucky,” Charlie grumbled.
“Pardon?” Julio asked.
Charlie shook his head, fussing with a curl on his head as he said, “It’s just my lot that the nicest boy I meet is too young. It’s not his fault.”
“We can’t decide when we’re born,” Jane agreed, “but so young an age, he can get swept up in all the feelings of it.”
Julio side-glanced at her. “What feelings exactly, Charlie?”
Both of his children rolled their eyes at the ceiling before the youngest said, “I do remember what being sixteen was like. I’m being as careful as I can be.”
“Be sure that you are,” Jane finished, facing forward once more.
A moment of quiet filled the car until Julio wondered aloud, “A big sports lad like him is gay?”
Michael replied, “Us rainbow fellows come in all sorts of disguises.”
“You’re right,” Julio stated, “I just am terrible at guessing.”
Charlie ventured, “I think he’s bi, but…he hasn’t said. I don’t think he’s out.”
Tori hummed a curt sound. “Almost perfect.”
Charlie and Michael looked at her, the former confronting, “What d’you mean?”
She glared at him. “You deserve someone who’s fully available to you. I know your standards are ‘tall’ and ‘nice,’ but someone who’s more than DL and not squeamish is superior.”
“DL?” Julio asked with a look at them in the mirror.
“Down low,” Michael provided. “Dating but secretive.”
“Ah, I see… What’s he squeamish about?”
Acute silence from the back of the car provided an answer in itself. Julio said through a swallow, “Never mind, then.”
Jane, however, rounded on him, “You’ve bitten that boy?”
“NO!” Charlie exclaimed. “No! We haven’t! He knows I’m a vampire, but no. For god sake.”
She sat back around in relief and Julio intercepted, “Good. That’s good. No hanky panky sharks and minnows until you’re married.”
Tori and Charlie scoffed in unison, “Yeah right.”