Page 62 of The Good Vampire’s Guide to Blood & Boyfriends

BRENNAN’S JOURNAL, THE BACK PAGE

Cole writing an essay next to me

Restless. In between bouts of typing, stares down the screen while a fidget spinner goes in the other hand. He’s in some sort of zone.

Oral fixation. Sipping cocoa. Chewing his pens. Biting his lip. Licking his lips. I think they’re chapped. Maybe I should stop looking at his lips.

Even when we’re doing our own things, it’s comforting to be in his orbit. Is that pathetic? Am I pathetic?

He glanced over at me and smiled and, can confirm, I am completely pathetic.

After Brennan finished shelving the books—a methodical process he honestly enjoyed, since it let his brain go on autopilot for a bit—he sat on the floor next to Cole, writing in his journal while Cole finished fast-drafting his essay. He’d started out with some sort of goal, but somewhere along the lines ended up in the back pages, one elbow-brush away from doodling Cole’s name in hearts like a third grader. Their knees pressed together. Cole’s foot tapped incessantly.

Brennan was still scribbling out notes when Cole finally slammed his laptop shut with a long sigh, slumped over sideways until his head was on Brennan’s shoulder, and said, “Done.”

Brennan closed his notebook to shield it from Cole’s view, and then held his breath to not move the new weight on his shoulders. Cole’s hair smelled like coconut. The wild curls tickled Brennan’s chin. He wanted to smooth them down. Brennan ignored his warming cheeks.

After a moment, Cole said, “We’re having a party this Friday for Mari’s birthday, before Thanksgiving break. You should come.”

“A party invite? I’m honored.”

“Shut up,” Cole said. “Say yes. You can invite your friends, too.”

“I don’t have a lot of friends, except the vampires.”

Cole arched his brow.

“Seriously?” Brennan said.

“It’d be super dope to meet them, honestly.”

Brennan’s brain raced through a thousand reasons why that was a terrible idea, but his mouth ignored them all and said, “I can ask them.”

Really, Cole could have invited him to a back-alley drug deal, and Brennan would leap to accept.

Cole smiled. The tears and stress from earlier were gone, leaving behind the bright-eyed enthusiasm Brennan had missed.

“Dope,” Cole said, and Brennan wanted to kiss the terrible word out of his mouth. “Either way, you owe me some vampire gossip. I feel way out of the loop!”

Brennan surged with gratitude and said, sly, “You ever imagine laser tag with a bunch of vampires?”

“Shut up!” Cole said, then, “Say more right now!”

And Brennan told him the whole story, but when he told it like this, all overdramatic and trying too hard to make Cole laugh, it didn’t feel so scary. In hindsight, it was funny, hanging out with old and powerful vampires who cared too much about arcade games and social media. His life seemed unfathomable to his own eyes, but in the library at night, he almost felt normal.

Brennan returned home late to Tony waiting up on the couch in his pajamas with his arms crossed like a concerned mother whose child had stayed out past curfew.

“Uh,” Brennan said, kicking his shoes off. “Hi?”

“What were you doing out so late?” Tony asked.

Brennan stopped in his normal getting-home movements, slowly hanging up his jacket and turning toward Tony.

“I was at the library with Cole,” Brennan said cautiously. Was this a confrontation? What did Tony know?

“I wanted to talk to you,” Tony said. He stood up from the couch and crossed until he could face Brennan, who was frozen and debating the merits of flight versus fight.

“Sure,” Brennan said. His voice came out surprisingly even.