“Why?” we asked, and the human jumped a little.
The hive chuckled. “Concentrate and speak with one.”
“Oh, of course. Why is your cherry pie famous?”
“Mr. Bennet always has a slice and gets cranky when there isn’t any left. He’s the reason you guys go here, right?”
“The food is also really good,” the hive said. They turned to us. “We love the veggie scramble and their sandwiches, and depending on what cook is working, they have very nice French crêpes.”
“Dwayne’s in the kitchen now, so it’s pancakes,” the server said.
The hive nodded. “Those are also good. We’ll take some to go as well this time.”
“Will have them ready for you,” the server said and wandered off.
“You come here often?”
The hive nodded. “We like it. The blue is calming, and everyone behaves. Have you never been?”
“No. We…we came to Newstaten to be free of a human who thought to own us. We stayed mostly in the underground, but that won’t do anymore.”
“Ah, I see. Hand us your phone.”
Our face heated again. “We don’t have it here.”
They shrugged and pulled a small notebook from a pocket in their scrubs. “This is our number. The one we give to friends. You can call us if you need anything.” They tore the piece of paper out of the book and slid it across the table. We entered it to our contact list right away.
“Thank you. We are here for you to talk as well or to support you if you need it. We just texted you.” The offer of support hardly needed saying among our kind.
“We might come to the Dazzle—we haven’t yet, but maybe it’s a good place to take a date. Better if one of our kind works there.”
They reached out across the table, and this time, we took their hands. The comfort was immediate, something we hadn’t had in a long time.
We exhaled slowly. “Better. A lot better.”
seven
The bed in my childhood room was a tiny little bit too short, especially if I kept all the pillows and my old teddy bear Bruno in bed with me. It meant my feet usually ended up dangling off the end, which was why I had started wearing socks when turning in.
The problem with going out for drinks and having someone mate on you was that you forgot such mundane things as your sleep socks. However, Principal Farrow came to the rescue, and that was totally my fault. I’d forgotten to set my phone to silent before going to sleep, and the principal had my number.
My eyes didn’t work well in the mornings, but I saw the screen, a bright patch of color, and with some effort, I managed to accept the call.
“Yeah?”
“Leopold! You’re up. I’m glad.”
“What?”
“It’s Headmaster Farrow, your favorite headmaster. Good morning!”
“Farrow?”
He clucked. “You’re supposed to say good morning back, Leopold. It’s the kind of thing we very much encourage in our student body, and it’s important to lead by example.”
I turned, still half asleep. “Fuck, my feet are cold.”
I shot awake. Had I really just complained about cold feet to a vampire?