Inside the world, is another world, darker and full of secrets. I was blissfully ignorant until the move to the small town, but that all changed on that first day of school. That was the day I met him, the day that changed my life.

I was used to being the new girl. My Mom and I had moved a lot, but it never made it any easier. Over the years, I've seen so many new faces that they seem to blur together, an eye here, a nose there. I try not to make any friends because, eventually, we'd move again, and it would hurt more that way. I never got used to goodbyes so I just avoided them.

My Mom hated staying in one place. It was probably some late form of rebellion after growing up in a small town with a close-knit community where everything she did got back to her parents. Mom is a private person and so am I. We're a lot alike, though neither of us would ever admit that out loud. I don't just mean by appearances, though I did inherit her tallish, slender build, angled features, and the blue-gray color of her eyes. Supposedly I'd inherited my inky black hair and my slanted eye-shape from my Asian father. I'd never met him. He'd died while Mom was still pregnant with me.

We both preferred to listen rather than talk, we both preferred to be left alone. We were both quiet people. Every house we lived in seemed unlived in. With two quiet, neat people, there doesn't seem to be much life. We kept to ourselves.

Racine Lake High School was small, probably because of the size of the population. I knew we wouldn't be staying here too long. The town was too tiny. We'd already had half the neighborhood show up at our door with an assortment of brownies, pies, and cookies. Mom stayed in her office after the first few encounters, leaving me to answer the door. She was worse than me in a lot of cases. People tire her out. I think that it's more grief over the loss of my father than her rebellion against her childhood. I know she hated being pitied, and my Nana told me before she passed that Mom had gotten a lot of that. I felt bad for her sometimes, but I couldn't tell her that. She would probably hide from me. Well, even more than she did already.

Because of the size of the town and school, everyone knew that I was the new girl. They'd been expecting me ever since word got out two weeks ago when my transcripts were sent over. It made it kind of hard to fade into a shadow with all of my teachers introducing me and all of the overly friendly kids blabbering on and on about how I'd love R.L.H. and how everyone was really nice.

He didn't introduce himself. He was one of the students who hid themselves in the corners of the room, asleep. Even hiding he was brilliant, though it was obvious he wasn't trying to be.

His features were flawless; it looked like the chiseled features of a roman sculpture. His jaw was smooth and strong, his nose long and perfectly proportioned to his face, sitting above smooth lips and in between two startling black eyes. I mean black. There was no hint of brown when the light hit them, they were black, slanted almost catlike and surrounded by almost feminine curving lashes, though even the long golden halo of hair that was tied at the nape of his neck and hung in a ponytail to just above the middle of his back couldn't make him appear feminine.

When he stood, I saw that he was tall and lean, his movements so smooth and graceful that just watching him lift his bag and walk toward the door of the classroom was like watching an intricate ballet. I noticed that I wasn't the only one staring, but I was the only one he cut his eyes toward. When they met mine, dark burning into light, I felt disoriented, everything but his face was suddenly fuzzy. Then he smiled a dazzling smile, showing a row of perfect white teeth, and he was gone.

I realized that I'd been standing there, gaping, and felt like a huge dork.

"That's Zane." A voice next to me said and I turned to see a girl who'd introduced herself earlier as Libby standing beside me, without me even noticing. She was one of those girls who seemed plain from a distance, but when she got closer, the natural beauty and the softness of her features was obvious. She had a quiet dignity about her, and after all the years of staying isolated, her kindness to me without seeming too pushy made me want to be nice to her, made me picture us hanging out, talking more.

"Zane?" I asked. My voice sounded oddly distant to my ears.

"Yeah. He has that effect on most people. It's not just you." She told me, smiling at me. It was like she had read my mind. It unnerved me a bit, that she could've read my distress so easily, but I just shrugged it off and gave her a half smile.

"Whatever." Even if I was intrigued, I wouldn't show it.

***

Walking home after school, I could feel eyes on me. I hunched my shoulders in an attempt to make myself smaller, as if I could fold into myself and hide from whoever was watching me, but that burning feeling on my back followed me home.

Me and mom ate dinner in silence, the only noise in the house was the clicking from the cuckoo clock that had been among Nana's possessions. Mom left the table first, slinking off to her office and closing the door behind her with a sharp click. I finished my dinner alone and went upstairs quietly after doing my dishes. Me and mom were like the perfect roommates, not mother and daughter.

***

I was asleep when I heard the tapping on my window. I didn't jerk awake, as I usually do from any small noise that woke me in the night, but instead stood in a sort of half-sleep state, floating over to the window and pushing open the curtains.

Open the window.

I said it in my mind, but it felt like it wasn't my own thought. My arms lifted, as if on their own, and I slid open the glass, then the screen. I took a step back, waiting. Waiting for what? I didn't really know.

"Come in." I whispered, surprised at the slurred sound of my words, only registering slightly in my daze.

Suddenly, he was here.

Zane was standing in my room, by my window, looking like a dark god, the shadows seeming to collect around him, move with him.

When he held out his hand to me, I hesitated. Somehow, I knew that if I put my hand in his, something would be different. I could feel myself standing on the edge of that line, and I knew my choice would tip the balance. What choice was that? This strange boy who I'd never spoken to, only had met a few hours ago, was standing at midnight in my dark bedroom, his hand outstretched toward me, feeling like an old friend.

I thought of my Mom, of the distance between us that neither of us tried to breach. It was an understanding between strangers to stay strangers.

After that thought of my mother and our nonexistent relationship, I made my decision without truly being conscious of it.

I lifted my hand from where it hung limply by my side, and placed it in his cold palm.

That same dazzling smile he'd given me in the classroom suddenly split his face and this time I noticed the sharp fangs that protruded from the perfect line of his other teeth. He drew me to him slowly, holding me to his chest as if I was a delicate flower, easily broken. He gently brushed my hair from my neck with cold fingers that made me shiver and tilted my head slowly.

I'm Zaneil. I've been waiting for you. I heard in my mind, and I suddenly realized, it wasn't my thoughts, it was his voice in my head. Your blood sings to me.

I sighed as his fangs brushed my bare neck.

"What is your name?" He whispered.

I closed my eyes and lay my head on his shoulder. "Kelis . . ." I breathed.

When his fangs broke my skin, I felt nothing but peace.