By the time he finally walked out of health class and headed toward his locker, Vlad’s face felt like it was on fire. It wasn’t the subject matter that bugged him-after all, it seemed like important stuff to know. But it was the way some of the girls in class giggled, and the whispers that some guys had been exchanging, always accompanied by low laughter. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that they weren’t laughing at the mention of genitals and reproduction so much as they were laughing at him for merely existing. Sometimes Vlad wished that he were home-schooled. At least for health class.

Vlad shook his head. Strike that-the last thing he wanted was to listen to Nelly explain where babies came from. With puppets. Again.

Standing next to his locker, Henry was chatting with Chelsea Whitaker, a.k.a. Cheerleader Snob Supreme. Vlad raised an eyebrow, slowing his steps. Henry glanced over at him and said something like “See ya” to Chelsea before she disappeared into the hallway crowd.

Without a word to Henry, Vlad opened his locker door and dropped his backpack inside, retrieving a few of the books he’d need for the next part of his day. His insides were burning with questions: Since when were Henry and Chelsea pals? And what was up with his gloomy, party-skipping attitude anyway? And why did the conversation stop just as Vlad approached? He bit his bottom lip and forced the questions to remain hidden in his throat, throwing Henry a casual smile. “What’s up?”

Henry shrugged. “Not much. What about you?”

Not much? As if Henry hanging out with cheerleaders and dropping years of partygoing tradition at the last minute were things that could easily be ignored. The questions inched their way up his throat once more, but Vlad swallowed hard, forcing them back down. He parted his lips, and when he spoke, his voice came out in a near whisper. “Not much, I guess.”

Henry nodded casually.

Vlad closed his locker and looked him in the eye. It was time to find out what was going on with his best friend. “I think we should talk, Henry.”

But just then the tardy bell rang out through the halls, cutting Vlad off. Henry offered a relieved shrug, looking very much like he’d literally been saved by the bell.

Vlad hurried down the hall to geometry. He’d have to deal with Henry later.

Not that it was really any of his business why Henry had ditched the party, or why he was hanging out with Chelsea. After all, it was Henry’s life, not Vlad’s. But still… Vlad couldn’t help but wonder what was going on with his friend. And why they weren’t talking about it.

Geometry lasted just short of an eternity, and chemistry seemed twice as long. By lunchtime, Vlad was ready to head home and spend the day in front of the television with a bag of potato chips and about five hundred bags of O positive, trying to defend the fate of the Earth against whatever evildoers were currently lurking inside his PlayStation. But unbelievably, he still had half a day of school to trudge through. What was it about Mondays that made them last forever? Vlad wagered it had to do with the space-time continuum or a cruel joke played by Fate.

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.”