Unafraid

by Michael Griffo

  Because Ronan knew that when his tears had run dry, Michael, unlike everyone else in his life, would still be by his side.

  chapter 15

  A New Day

  Outside, the earth was awake.

  The first week of November brought with it a quick drop in temperature and an eager snowfall that covered the grass with a light, powdery dust. A fine layering, nothing substantial, just enough to announce that winter was coming, just enough to make Michael and Ronan want to spend the day in bed. A sound slipped into their room along with the chill: da-da-DAH-da, da-da-da. The meadowlark’s signature melody was as clear as the sky, and Michael was thrilled to hear his old friend. It had been quite some time since he paid a visit. Unfortunately, he was only visiting his dream.

  “Looks like you’ve found a new home,” the lark said.

  “Yes,” Michael replied. “My true home, the place where I was meant to be.”

  “I know, I’ve always known.” The meadowlark’s wings fluttered even though it didn’t move. Da-da-DAH-da, da-da-da. Michael could listen to that tune all day. “And now you have to hold onto it, protect it, use your new power and strength to make sure nothing bad ever happens to it.”

  Michael wasn’t sure that Double A needed his protection, but he nodded anyway. “I will.”

  “Good,” the lark said, its yellow feathers brighter than Michael remembered. “Because he’s going to need you.”

  He? What’s he talking about? The school was always referred to as a “she.” “Archangel Academy needs me?” Michael asked.

  The lark turned its head so Michael could see its clear, round eyes. “I’m not talking about your school. I’m talking about Ronan.”

  Opening his eyes, Michael couldn’t see the lark. The only one in the room with him was Ronan. For a few seconds he lay still, hoping he was wrong, hoping it wasn’t a dream and he would be able to catch the meadowlark’s sound, even if it spilled into the room, into the present, from his memory, but there was silence. The sound was gone; only Ronan remained. The person he slept with, the person he loved, the person he had to protect. When Michael saw the time on the alarm clock next to their bed, he realized Ronan was also the person he had to wake up.

  “Ro,” Michael said, nudging him more than slightly. “We overslept.”

  Ronan stirred, stretched, but kept his eyes shut and his hands tightly clutching the covers. “We have plenty of time.”

  Out of bed, Michael was already starting to dress. “Not if we want to be on time for first period.”

  Reluctantly, Ronan opened one eye and mumbled, “Really, we’re that late?”

  “When have you known me to get up early?” Michael asked, flipping the covers to the side, revealing Ronan’s near-naked body. “Now get dressed. You can’t go to class in your underwear.”

  “Why not?” Ronan asked, stretching and yawning loudly. “I think I look bloody fantastic.”

  Knotting his tie, Michael tried not to smile. Ronan looked beyond fantastic. They both knew it, and they both knew that Michael would like nothing more than to spend the entire day staring at him. Well, maybe not the entire day; even that could get dull after a while. Michael was in love, he wasn’t obsessed; he did have other things going on in his life. Like school which, sadly, started really early in the morning and required a more conservative attire. “And you look equally fantastic in your uniform,” Michael said. “So get dressed.”

  Not just yet. Michael didn’t see Ronan’s arm reach out and grab him, but it must have, because the next thing he knew he was lying on the bed with Ronan on top of him. Clearly, his boyfriend still had some moves he hadn’t yet seen. And some lines he hadn’t yet heard.

  “To look at a thing is quite different from seeing a thing,” Ronan recited, his blue eyes clear and unblinking. “And one does not see anything until one sees its beauty.”

  Wrapping his fingers around Ronan’s arm, Michael knew those words weren’t original and that Ronan was quoting their favorite writer. It didn’t lessen the sentiment; on the contrary, it strengthened it because it was their own private connection. “That’s gotta be something Mr. Wilde wrote.”

  “From An Ideal Husband,” Ronan confirmed. “But he could’ve been writing about you.”

  It was hard for Michael to respond while Ronan was kissing him, but he got a few words out. “Haven’t read that far.”

  “That’s okay,” Ronan whispered as he kissed him deeply. “I know your boyfriend can be a distraction.”

  Despite how marvelous the bed and Ronan’s body felt, Michael couldn’t afford to be late again and so he needed Ronan to be fully dressed. Commanding all his willpower, Michael pushed Ronan away from him. “Stop kissing me.”

  Miffed, Ronan stared down at Michael. “Why, love?” he asked. “Is my breath rank?”

  Rolling out from underneath him, Michael laughed. “Well, a little, but, seriously, you have to get dressed! Joubert’ll get all pissy if I’m late again, and you have to get all the way over to the lab,” he said, crossing the room to grab their backpacks. “If we’re both late, people are going to talk about us.”

  “They already talk about us,” Ronan said, jumping into his trousers.

  “Well, let’s not give them more ammunition,” Michael replied. “Now stop yakking and finish.”

  “I’m waiting for you,” Ronan said.

  Michael turned around, and of course Ronan was fully dressed, standing at the door with his coat on, acting as if Michael were the one who had delayed their departure. Tossing his backpack to Ronan, Michael walked past him and opened the door. “You think you’re funny, don’t you, Glynn-Rowley?”

  “I know I’m funny, Howard,” Ronan said, smiling as he closed the door behind him.

  Michael was already starting to race across campus when Ronan heard him shout, “You’re the only one!”

  Jumping into his seat in theology, Michael could still hear Ronan’s laughter, louder than the class bell. As much as he didn’t want to, he had to turn off his connection with his boyfriend so he could concentrate on Joubert’s lecture, no matter how boring it might be. He listened as his professor tried to excite his students by focusing on the Bible’s more glamorous section, the Book of Revelations, but as an immortal Michael found the whole “end of days” apocalypse to be anticlimactic. As usual, things only got interesting after class.

  “Looks like your boyfriend just can’t stay away,” Michael whispered.

  Nakano turned around and saw Jean-Paul standing in the doorway, the rest of the class filing out past him. Shoving his books into his messenger bag, Nakano debated whether he should tell Michael the truth, that he hadn’t seen much of Jean-Paul lately. Even though they had never officially broken up, calling him his boyfriend in their theology classroom would probably be considered a venial sin. In fact, he was certain Jean-Paul wasn’t here to see him, but to have another confab with the vampire professor. Not so.

  “Kano,” Jean-Paul called out. “Do you have a moment for me?”

  “A moment, an hour, a week, an eternity,” Michael joked, throwing his pack over his shoulder. “Have fun, Nakano.”

  Walking past Jean-Paul, Michael was happy that his stomach didn’t flip, his heart didn’t skip a beat, and he found it very easy to speak to the man he had once found incredibly distracting. “Hi, Jean-Paul,” he said. “Good to see you again.”

  Nakano was less sure of himself. Walking over to meet Jean-Paul at the doorway he felt like he was hobbling. He ran a hand through his hair and wished that he had let it continue to grow and not gotten another buzz cut. He threw his shoulders back as far as they could go, and he wished that he were just a few inches taller so he wouldn’t look so short. Jean-Paul was so tall, so handsome, so confident, so at ease as he twirled his chauffeur’s cap in his hand. Really, what could he ever want from Nakano? A date, a reconciliation, a kiss. How about an answer?

  “Where eez Brania?” Jean-Paul asked, one outstretched finger still circling round and round
, making his cap flip over and over in the air.

  Startled, Nakano turned around and saw that Professor Joubert’s hunched back was to them. He was ignoring them, not by choice, but because he was being questioned by Diego. Nakano hadn’t even noticed that the Fuente kid was still in the room; he thought he had left with the rest of the class. But at least his presence kept Joubert preoccupied so Kano could have a semi-private talk with Jean-Paul. But Jean-Paul didn’t want to talk. He just wanted an answer to his question.

  “Are you deaf?” he asked. “I said, where’s Brania?”

  This time Nakano was startled, because Jean-Paul’s eyes turned as ugly as his tone. “I don’t know.”

  “You’re lying.”

  Glancing behind, he saw that Joubert was still talking to Diego. Joubert, looking tall despite being seated, held some papers, most likely Diego’s answers to the essay questions on their latest test; the kid was always questioning why he had gotten a lower grade than he had expected. He was the type who went through life thinking that he should be rewarded just because he had tried. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t good enough, that he wasn’t smart enough, that he wasn’t hot enough to get the top prize. Nakano knew exactly how that felt. “So that’s why you’ve come to see me?” he asked. “To find out where Brania is.”

  The cap suddenly stopped moving. Jean-Paul leaned over and smiled, and Nakano could see his teeth, so white and perfect; he could smell his breath, so thick and hot; he could hear his response, so blunt and hateful. “Pleeze, the only reason I’m ’ere eez because David asked me,” Jean-Paul hissed. “And I weell ask you only one more time, where eez Brania?”

  So there wasn’t going to be another date, there would be no more kisses. The only reason Jean-Paul was standing in front of him was because he had been given orders. He might be an adult, he might be gorgeous, but he was nothing more than a lackey, a servant who did exactly as his master commanded. How unattractive was that? There was no way that Kano was going to go out with a guy who couldn’t think for himself, who only did what he was told to do. No, this conversation was over.

  “And I already told you, I don’t know where Brania ... eez,” he replied.

  Feeling smug, Nakano didn’t care if he offended Jean-Paul. He didn’t even care if Joubert and Diego heard every word he said. He had had enough of being treated poorly. Laughing out loud, he thought he might be having his own mini biblical revelation—if you want to be treated properly, you have to start treating yourself with respect. So not only was this conversation over, but so too was this relationship. “One more thing,” Kano said, his voice no longer hushed. “Just so there’s no confusion in that pretty, little pea-brain of yours, I’m dumping you.”

  Jean-Paul didn’t protest or laugh, but he also didn’t let Nakano leave. Extending his arm, he grabbed onto the doorjamb and denied Kano a dramatic exit. Leaning in a little bit further, his hair falling from behind his ears, looking greasy instead of smooth, Jean-Paul offered one last warning. “Be careful who you are loyal to or you might wind up like your leetle friend Penry.”

  Shocked, Nakano had had no idea that Jean-Paul knew about Penry. It wasn’t something that they had talked about, and Jean-Paul hadn’t been in town when the incident happened. Maybe it was something that vampires all over were talking about; maybe Nakano had become something of a legend, a rogue vampire who defied protocol and killed by his own rules. “Don’t act surprised,” Jean-Paul sneered. “David tells me everything. And ... how do you say? Oui, vice versa.”

  Images of Jean-Paul and David ripped through Nakano’s brain, both real and imagined. He didn’t know what kind of relationship they had; he didn’t know if they were friends or lovers; he didn’t know anything anymore except that he had to get out of this room and the hell away from this guy. He didn’t care how it looked to anyone else, he just grabbed Jean-Paul’s arm and flung it violently to the side before running out of the classroom. Go tell that to David!

  Catching Joubert’s eyes, Jean-Paul shrugged his shoulders puckishly. He then tilted his head toward Diego, who was still rambling on about how he should receive at least partial credit for attempting to answer one of the essay questions, disregarding the fact that he had failed to explain in an insightful manner the symbolism of the color red in the Bible. “Mr. Fuente, I’ll increase your grade by three points,” Joubert rather wearily announced.

  “Excellent! Thank you.”

  Taking Diego by the elbow, Joubert ushered him to the door, his huge frame dwarfing Diego. “Bear in mind, however, that your new grade doesn’t reflect a reassessment of your intelligence on my part,” he added. “But a nod to your perseverance.”

  Standing just outside the classroom, Diego had no idea his meeting with his teacher had ended. “Just one more thing... .” Those were the last words Diego uttered before Jean-Paul slammed the door in his face.

  “Gwendal, how in ze world do you ’andle being surrounded by leetle children all day long?” Jean-Paul asked, his back leaning against the door. “I don’t theenk anytheeng could be more annoying.”

  Ronan could argue with that statement. He had spent the last hour sitting next to Morgandy in chemistry feeling as if he was sitting next to a stranger instead of next to one of the most influential people in his life. The actions of the guy sitting next to him had shaped Ronan, turned him into the person he was today. He couldn’t believe that Morgandy was able to keep up this pretense that they didn’t share any history. It was absolutely maddening. Just like his questions.

  “What’s your name again?” Morgandy asked.

  “Are you bloody kidding me?!”

  Morgandy reeled back on his lab stool as far as he could without tumbling over. “Sorry, I’m the new kid, way too many names to remember,” he replied. “You’re Rowan, right?”

  Ronan was holding the pencil so tightly in his hand it was about to break. “Wrong. I’m Ronan.”

  Slapping his hand down on the countertop, his curls bouncing a bit, Morgandy apologized yet again. “That’s right, really sorry, truth is I’m no good with names.” He turned his focus back to the microscope and took out the glass tray that was covered with a foul-looking brown and green substance. He held it gingerly so as not to spill the contents and placed it on the counter next to the others, which all held matter that looked equally gross. Turning back to his lab partner, he asked, “Do you have the next specimen ... Ronan?”

  Hearing Morgandy speak his name again made Ronan cringe. How can he say my name as if it doesn’t mean anything? How can he act as if he doesn’t know who I am? How can I let him get away with this? “Stop playing games, Morgandy.”

  Morgandy’s brow furrowed. Confused, he shook his head and was finally able to respond, but his voice was way too casual for Ronan’s liking. “Not playing games, just trying to finish up the assignment.”

  A clean snap and the pencil in Ronan’s hand broke in two. “Stop acting as if you don’t know who I am,” he demanded, his voice quiet, but seething. “Like you don’t remember me.”

  Morgandy’s confusion didn’t completely lift, but it was slowly being erased by irritation. “Look, I don’t know what your problem is,” Morgandy said. “But I don’t remember you because we never met before.”

  “Seriously?!”

  “Is there a problem over there?” Professor Chow asked from across the room.

  Looking around, Ronan saw that his outburst had not only caught the attention of his teacher, but the rest of the class as well. “No, sir,” he muttered. “Just really excited about this lab.”

  Despite the chuckles from a few of his classmates, most of the students shared Chow’s look of disbelief. Ronan wasn’t a very good actor and definitely not nearly as good as he believed Morgandy to be. “This is seriously how you’re going to play this.”

  Morgandy looked around the room for support, for the right words to appease Ronan; he didn’t find either. “I don’t know what to tell you,” he said finally. “You got me mixed up with so
me other guy.”

  “I think I’d remember the guy who shared my bed for almost a year,” Ronan seethed.

  So that was it! It was all a come-on. Morgandy had heard through the school grapevine that Ronan was gay, but he also thought he had a boyfriend, the blond kid from the swim team. Morgandy, like most all the students at Double A, didn’t care about someone’s sexual preference as long as they weren’t pressured to do anything against their will. Like Ronan was obviously trying to do. “I think I need to call a time-out,” Morgandy replied. “I don’t care what you are or how you like to get off, but I don’t swing that way.”

  Infuriated by Morgandy’s blatant refusal to acknowledge their history, Ronan banged his fist on the counter and jumped off his chair, knocking it backward. “You bloody liar, you most certainly do swing that way!”

  Now Ronan was acting violent, and Morgandy no longer thought his flirtations were harmless; he was afraid. “I’d like a new lab partner please!”

  From across the room, Chow made his authoritative presence known. “Ronan! What’s going on over there?!”

  Fury prevented Ronan from speaking, so Morgandy explained the situation, censoring it for a public audience. “Mild disagreement over procedure, sir,” he said. “But I think it’s best if we switched partners.”

  Again, Chow didn’t believe a word of it. Like most teachers, however, he had learned that it’s often better not to pry and just to accept a student’s version of the truth at face value and act accordingly. Just as he was shuffling around partners, pairing Alexei up with Morgandy, and a quiet kid from the Netherlands with Ronan, the bell rang. Chow was grateful; he knew the crisis wasn’t solved, but at least it was postponed for another day.