The Breakfast Club

I tapped my pencil against my notebook; Ms. Adams was droning on yet again about the proper mechanics of “How to Properly Decapitate the Unsuspecting.” Yawn. I’ve sat through this lecture countless times; I swear she keeps me here just to torture me. Let alone the countless times she’s made an example out of me, telling the class that my kind can be killed with a swift swoosh of an axe, or a sword—whichever weapon the murderer so chooses.

I felt a nudge to my left leg and glanced down at the large, brown boot that lingered next to my much smaller sneaker. I glanced up at the boot’s owner, meeting the bored expression on Mo’s face; he hated this class as much as I did. He nodded towards his notebook and I smiled, showing all of my teeth. His elegant scrawl flowed effortlessly around the page—he had another poem he wanted to try as a song.

I glanced to the front of the class, Ms. Adams was busy glaring at Xander; he probably corrected her yet again. He can’t help it if he’s smart. I reached my hand out and Mo placed his latest creation in my palm. Quickly moving my hand back and putting the paper down, I glanced down at it.

Can you forgive me again?
I don't know what I said,
But I didn't mean to hurt you.

I heard the words come out;
I felt that I would die,
It hurt so much to hurt you.

Then you look at me,
You're not shouting anymore.
You're silently broken.

I'd give anything now
to kill those words for you.

Each time I say something I regret,
I cry "I don't want to lose you."
But somehow I know
That you will never leave me.

'Cause you were made for me,
Somehow I'll make you see
How happy you make me.

I can't live this life
Without you by my side,
I need you to survive.

So stay with me,
You look in my eyes
And I'm screaming inside that I'm sorry.

And you forgive me again
You're my one true friend
And I never meant to hurt you.

“Mr. Abrams, would you like to share what has you so enthralled that you failed to hear not one, but two separate bells signaling the end of one lecture and the beginning of another?”

I’m sure if I could blush, I’d be so red about now. I stashed the paper in my notebook and slammed it shut and met Ms. Adams’ gaze and shook my head no. She raised an eyebrow at me and I inwardly rolled my eyes.

“You’re in Miss Oren’s seat. Love notes between you and Mr. Frankenstein will not be tolerated next time around. Now leave before I permit Miss Oren to use her skills to make you leave; final warning Mr. Abrams.”

I nodded and muttered a ‘yes ma’am’ and quickly made my way to history. I glanced through the window in the door and searched out the clock—five minutes late. Great; I took a deep breath and used one of my own skill sets and raced to my seat, hopefully unnoticed.

“While I admire your endeavor Wyatt, I still have you marked as tardy for today’s lecture. Surely you wouldn’t want to miss out on learning on some of your ancestors?”

I inwardly groaned. I hated learning about my kind. We weren’t that spectacular, I don’t see why we devote a section of our lectures on their history. Then again, we touch everyone else’s; it would only be fair. I hate whoever made it mandatory to not leave out any species in lectures.

While I enjoyed learning of history, I never really paid much attention to my own family’s. I can’t say that I know just how we all tie back to the original Dracula, but I know at least that much. Yeah, try that on for size. I turned back to Mo’s poem and started toying with melodies; Jamie’s voice would be perfect for this one. I’d have to see if Xander could tinker on his piano for me later.