In short, Dark Light just isn't coming to me now. I decided to kick this out since it was eating away my isides…it's just a little side project, a new direction. Hopefully you will enjoy it, and I do thank you very much for taking the time to read it!

"I'm telling you, Sky, that kid is not mortal."

You can only laugh at some of the things Patrick says to me. I know he has an affixation for science fiction and stuff like that, but applying it to real life? That's going a little far. I never let that get in the way of our friendship though. He was always considered the 'dork' in junior high, but I think it was his wit that really got me to sit with him at lunch. That and his habit of wearing conductor hats. It was classy.

I'll always listen to what he has to say about the apparent infestation of vampires, werewolves, demons, and shapeshifters in the world, especially our dirty town of LA. He almost convinces me sometimes, but I don't buy the stuff about shapeshifters. But Patrick's so adamant about it, he refuses to give his dog any attention.

Now, at this new accusation, I followed Patrick's gaze down the bustling hallway. He was looking at some blonde guy, struggling with his locker. He was obviously new, and he seemed completely normal to me.

"How is he not mortal?" I asked, opening my locker.

"You can just tell with his type," Patrick said, still staring. "The quiet type."

"So then others like you who don't know you would think you're not mortal," I pointed out.

"Oh no, I ooze normality. But you can just feel it with some," he replied, narrowing his eyes. "I sat pretty close to him in psychology."

I closed my locker with a sigh. "I think you're just too determined to find someone out of the ordinary to prove me wrong."

"Nah. I'll let you believe what you want, and be so naïve about it." He gave me a pathetic look, and I just laughed at him.

He'd been trying to convince me of these sort of things ever since I met him. He was convinced LA was overrun with vampires, and no one really knew about it. Apparently, he had witnessed a 'killing' as he called it, and was chock full of every bit of knowledge concerning vampires. It wasn't that he really liked vampires, but instead he wanted to rid the world of them. Or at least LA.

I followed Patrick through the hall to government, glancing at the 'immortal' as we passed. He had managed to open his locker and was piling books inside. As if feeling my look, he started to turn, and I hurried by. Patrick shuddered and shook his head.

"Nasty feeling," he mumbled.

"Got any crucifixes on you?" I asked.

"What do you take me for?" Patrick replied with mock hurt. "Crucifixes mean nothing."

"Right, I forgot," I said, dodging a group of guys as they barreled into the classroom. I could see the teacher already writing assignments on the board, which meant the class would be meaningless, as it usually was. It meant fifty-five minutes of boredom for me, extra study time for Patrick.

"Thank God for lazy people," Patrick said as we sat down. He was already pulling out The Folder. It was where he kept all of his immortal studies. I have to admit, it was all done in a pretty sophisticated manner. He only looked at things realistically, and scientifically. But I firmly believe that seeing is believing, and I have yet to be convinced.

"Hey, check it out," Patrick said quietly as the bell rang. I turned to his desk, seeing he held out some of his notes.

"Patrick—"

"Come on, just look over it. I'm still in the process of convincing you."

I sighed and took the paper, turning forward again. Patrick was already writing more down; more I would read later. I looked at the heading of the paper: Vampire Dentition.

"I've read this before," I whispered over my shoulder.

"I added some things."

Okay . . . what more could he possibly say? He had drawn diagrams of human teeth and then compared it to a vampire's set of pearly whites. It was plausible, I guess, but I had read it before.

I looked up when the classroom door opened again, and saw it was the accused 'immortal'. He looked pissed, and ignored the teacher's look, heading for the empty desk next to Patrick. I carefully watched him, acting like I was reading the paper. The desk behind me squeaked loudly as Patrick leaned forward.

"Why does my life suck?" he whispered as the guy sat down. I just shrugged and slouched down a little, glancing back. The guy was taking out a small black book, turning pages loudly and almost ripping them. I turned forward again when Patrick poked my shoulder.

"Mr. Beaumont?" the teacher called, looking down at his desk with a frown.

"Yes?" Aha. So the 'immortal' was Beaumont. But that couldn't be his first name, though the teacher always added a mister or miss before saying our names.

"Do you have a pass of some sort?"

"No."

A brief shake of the head, and the teacher was back to his grading and the classroom was silent again. Behind me, Patrick was continually shifting uncomfortably, and it was starting to annoy me. But I stuck it out and read his research.

I was skimming what I already knew when I felt a light touch at my arm. I glanced down, seeing Patrick was slipping me a note. I took it, looking around before quietly opening it. He's looking at your paper! Cover it up quick.

I frowned to myself, folding up the note. 'He' was obviously the one beside Patrick. I didn't dare look, and casually reached into my backpack and put my psychology book over the paper. I think it would be taken very weirdly if I was seen reading about the way vampire teeth work. I didn't really know why I cared, but if Patrick asked me to, then I'd do it.

The rest of the class period was silent and uneventful. I was happy when the final bell rang, and everyone jumped up to leave. I took my time packing up, remembering the paper was still under my book, and Beaumont was still sitting.

"Where to?" I asked Patrick when he stood beside my desk.

"I don't know, wherever. I just need to get out of this building and away from these people," he replied, trying too hard to sound casual. I just nodded, still packing slowly. But I had to move the book at some point. I finally grabbed it and the paper, attempting to shove it between the pages. This didn't really go unnoticed.

"Are you interested in vampires?"

The voice did not belong to Patrick, or the teacher. That left one option, and I looked up at Beaumont who was looking down at me with a face I couldn't read.

"Um—sort of," I said, not wanting to have to explain Patrick's interests. Beaumont glanced at the paper, to me, and then at Patrick. He nodded to himself, momentarily chewing his bottom lip, and cracked a smile.

"Cool." And he walked away.

Neither one of us spoke until he had left the room. Patrick let out a fast breath, grabbing the paper.

"That was awkward," he said.

"He wasn't talking to you," I pointed out, standing.

"But that look he gave us, like he knew . . ."

"Knew what?"

"What we know. About his type."

"Oh God, Patrick." I walked to the door, letting him follow and wondering how I could ever get him to live in this reality with everyone else.