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On afternoons like these, Vinnie was grateful that the wind wasn’t howling for once. He wrapped his leather-covered arms tighter around himself and tried to dig deeper into his scarf. Autumn had flown by so fast: First, the morning started going cold and the grass grew frosty tips — then the chill came creeping back in the evening. Only the daylight hours provided some kind of warmth, which wasn’t much for the undead skulking around Gravedale High. Some creatures without a properly functioning circulatory system didn’t seem to mind much, but those without the ability to produce their own hemoglobin, and thus reliant on donations — from totally-not-manipulated-in-any-way donors — greatly suffered in that kind of weather.
He and Reggie were hanging out, though not in the literal sense of the word, on the bleachers by the school’s casketball field. Coach Cadaver seemed to have called off outside practice for the season, and brought the knuckleheads inside for the winter. Not a soul was out on the field besides a bug kid or two doing loops around the goal posts. Even though Vinnie was flirting with death for the second time in his unlife, Reggie had managed to get away with just wearing a cardigan on top of his dress shirt. It was a pleasant, earthy green that matched the dying grass of the field, and suited him quite nicely for geek fashion, though some monsters, Duzer in particular, would laugh at the idea. Reggie certainly thought he looked dashing — his mother had even called him presentable.
They didn’t have club that day, as it was Wednesday — yes, they. After Vinnie’s impromptu heart-to-heart a couple of weeks back, Reggie and him had decided that it may be a good to have a talk with someone, anyone, really. Reggie had implored him to speak with Mr. Schneider, but Vinnie had insisted that it was completely out of the question. As much as Reggie respected Schneider, Vinnie simply felt much less so towards any adults and authority figures, human teachers included. Reggie figured that Vinnie’s pride couldn’t take it. During class when that day’s topic was below Reggie’s academic level, he’d look around at his fellow students to see what they were up to. Anything but listening, it seemed, although he already knew from the sounds Frankentyke’s pencil scratching on his desk or Blanche’s nail file. Vinnie usually napped at his desk, but the last couple of times they’d lock eyes and Vinnie would grin at him with flashing canines and dancing eyebrows, as if trying to communicate through telepathy. It left Reggie dumbfounded.
Vinnie would flee the classroom less often at last bell and just stay behind to talk with Reggie for a couple of minutes. Nothing out of the ordinary, just a few ‘how you doin’?’ and ‘full moon tonight?’ Reggie tried to sneak in a question about how he was doing, but Vinnie dodged his inquiries with a practiced grace. Just because they seemed to be as close as two cadavers in a casket, it didn’t mean that Vinnie would come out of his shell just yet, especially not in front of others.
What confused Reggie even more was that Vinnie had begun tagging along to the club twice a week. He wasn’t joining, but opted to stay outside waiting for Reggie to finish so they could walk home together. The other members reacted as he had predicted. They growled and hissed at Vinnie’s presence. Reese squinted their rotten eyes, Gespensta moaned quietly, and the swamp girl, who Reggie had only recently learned the name of — Nixie — flared her fins. Everyone knew who Vinnie was: the stone-cold and cool vampire of Gravedale High. His presence, for them at least, only spelled trouble.
“What’s he doing here?” Nixie demanded.
To Vinnie, it all made perfect sense: He was just escorting a good friend to and from his after-school club. Gnardo and his rag-tag gang weren’t the only bullies on campus, and nerds and other misfits were easy targets, so he figured that Reggie could use the protection. Reggie, meanwhile, could easily understand his fellow monster’s ire. He hadn’t planned on using them outside of a potential career in politics, but his debate skills carefully honed with his father on Saturday afternoons seemed to come in handy. He had to stop the others before a human-style uprising with torched and pitchforks would begin.
He raised his paws in defense. He couldn’t see Vinnie’s expression in the moment, but it seemed that Nixie’s outburst hadn’t elicited any reaction from him whatsoever, either out of surprise or because his mask was up again. He didn’t speak up, so Reggie felt he should continue.
“Vinnie is a friend. He merely escorted me here after last bell, that is all.”
He looked at Reese, who happened to be standing the closest, and he couldn’t discern the feelings behind their expression. They didn’t exactly scoff, but made the closest possible sound for an undead with dry-rotted and inflexible vocal cords.
“Honestly, Reggie. I figured you would be the last monster to hang with Mr. Stoker over here — no offense. Makes sense why you were arguing for the popular kids’ innocence that one time.”
“Reese, we discussed this,” Reggie said. “Someone’s current disposition and situation does not absolve them of their experiences, past or present.”
Reese rolled their bloodshot eyes, albeit playfully and with a knowing smirk on their face. They were easily the second smartest monster in the club, and the meetings would always drag out when they had one of their discussions.
“I did read the article you sent me on intersectionalism and I agree on most points, although the human perspective ticks me off.”
This is not really the time to discuss this, Reggie thought, beginning to grow frustrated.
Gespensta decided to jump in: “C’moooon, you spooks — no fighting.”
She floated right in between them with both of her transparent hands stretched out on each side of her. Reggie could feel the cold temperature radiating off her ectoplasm. She looked hesitantly over at Vinnie.
“Vincent— is it okay if I call you Vincent?”
“Don’t”
“—Vinnie…has every right to be here.”
The vampire, who had otherwise stayed silent and observed the whole exchange, reacted to all eyes being on him with a nonchalant shrug. He sighed, almost as if nothing about the conversation bothered him in the slightest. He raised both hands in mock defeat, as if the whole thing was just a game to him and not an attack. “Hey, I know when I’m not wanted. I won’t be botherin’ you freaks n’ geeks more than I have to — just don’t mess with Moonshroud, ‘aight?”
At that, he sauntered out of the crypt while waving a casual ‘see ya’ at Reggie, and he was too stunned to speak before he was gone. He was disheartened, yet not surprised that his fellow club members reacted the way they did. While Vinnie himself had not outright antagonized them in the past, they had all, in some shape or form, been on the receiving end of various forms of harassment from the upper echelons of teenage monster society. He embodied all that was desirable — respect, community, good looks — yet just out of reach. If only they knew.
After their session the gathered ghouls dispersed. Reggie had exited the crypt to find Vinnie hanging upside down from the ceiling, blending in with the carved stone. He briefly wondered whether blood pooled in his head the same way it would do for everyone else.
Weird, Reggie thought. Vinnie only takes his naps in his locker, as far as I know.
He did not know what reason Vinnie had to decide to stay behind and wait for him that day, but as Nixie passed him and said her goodbyes, Vinnie peeked out from under a leathery wing in that very vampire way of his. When everyone had vacated the premises, Vinnie swept down from the honorary belfry and landed elegantly beside Reggie with a nimble touch of his leather boots. He draped a slack arm over Reggie’s shoulders and pulled him into a sideways hug. His relaxed demeanor made the action seem both intimate and not-quite-so at the same time. Reggie wasn’t sure what he preferred.
“Let’s get out of this dead-end crypt, Reg.” He beat his wings a couple of times to air them out. “Wouldn’t wanna catch mildew on my wings down here.” He retreated his wings with a snap of his marble-white fingers. Though he didn’t mention it then, he thought of how the dampness of the crypt would make his fur curl and his carefully tamed, red locks even wilder.
“Let’s do that,” he said instead.
The bug kids had left the field. Reggie overheard one of them complaining about the cold, and he was eternally grateful that he was born with a coat of fur. He fingered at the soft, knitted material of his cardigan. He had to remember to send a thank-you card to his grandmother for the gift. She did have graceful and strong fingers despite her age, and her knitting skills were unmatched. He wondered where Vinnie had gotten his scarf from. It looked expensive, but the threads were matted, uneven, and even loose in some places, as if it’d been washed wrong too many times. He noted never to let his mother see Vinnie while wearing that. She would have opinions about him keeping unkempt company. Wait, why would Vinnie every meet his parents?
He had noticed that Vinnie had stayed uncharacteristically quiet. He’d normally comment on everything he could see, especially with other flyers moving about. His cockiness had only been emboldened after beating Gnardo in ‘fly and splat’, and no jock could keep him away from where he wanted to roam, which was why his quiet seemed so out of place. It wasn’t his cool, performative quiet either. It was different…heavy, like he was carrying something he couldn’t let go of just yet.
“Are you okay, Vinnie?” He adjusted his glasses, which had slipped down his snout. “You’ve been oddly silent today. You know you don’t have to follow me home every day.” He figured he wasn’t bothering Vinnie. Vinnie rarely did anything he didn’t want to do, but Reggie figured the question could get something out of him. He prepared himself to be rejected yet again.
Vinnie huffed a laugh, the first sound he’d made in minutes, then sighed: “Yeah. No…I mean—“ He stopped and ran a hand through his greased hair. He held it there for a moment longer than usual. His fingers gripped visibly at his scalp. “There’s somethin’ I should probably tell you.”
Reggie stilled: “Okay? I’m listening.”
Vinnie didn’t look at him at first: “That day. When I told you about…”everythin’ that’s goin’ on. I was outside school because I knew you had club that day.”
He noticed he had been holding his breath: “You followed me?”
“I didn’t wanna listen, I swear,” Vinnie said quickly. “I was just—I wanted to see why it mattered so much to you. What they had that I didn’t.” He moved his hand to the cling at his other arm, and his nails dug visibly into the leather. “But when I heard you talking about feelin’ lonely. About feelin’ like you didn’t belong anywhere.”
Reggie felt his ears burn. Not with anger, but with embarrassment.
“Oh,” he said.
“I shouldn’t have,” Vinnie went on. “It wasn’t fair, and I’m sorry. I…” He finally looked at Reggie. His eyes had no gleam whatsoever. They were nothing but deep, dark pits. “I honestly didn’t think someone like you could feel that way.”
Reggie took a moment before answering.
“I’m not angry if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said.
Vinnie frowned: “You’re not?”
“No,” Reggie said. “I admit, I was scared. Being surrounded by all these other monsters I hadn’t even known for very long was intimidating. I was sure I would be ridiculed or shunned; I am from the losers’ class, after all. The vulnerability made me feel uncomfortably bare, but the important part was that I was honest. I meant everything I said because I needed someone, anyone, to listen. To be honest, I fear I wouldn’t have been able to tell you directly back then.” He smiled. “A part of me is glad you heard.”
“I’m glad I ran into you after,” Vinnie said. “When I heard you at the meetin’ I realized how little I knew you, and it freaked me out. I hate school, but you’re the only monster I wanna see, so that’s why I go. If I meant nothing to you, I don’t know what I would do. You matter to me. You’re so smart you give Teach a run for his money, and you read half the books in the library when we were freshmen. You stood up for your club when I acted like an ass at lunch, and you listened to me even when I was sounded like an absolute lunatic.”
Reggie’s heart was pounding. Vinnie’s would’ve, had he had a pulse.
Vinnie broke eye contact. If Reggie didn’t know any better he almost looked…shy? It was like back then, but different.
“I’ve liked you for a while,” Vinnie admitted. “I just didn’t think I could, or if you would let me.”
In that moment, something, somehow, fell into place within Reggie. He didn’t know what was happening, despite it being painfully obvious. It was if he’d been waiting for something all this time, and he’d just then realized what it was. There’d always been…something between him and Vinnie. He figured it was because of the nature of their unnatural friendship, being a popular kid and a nerd. But there was something else: the way his blood rose to his ears when they were together, always grouping up for class projects, every stray thought being of him. Feelings welled up within him and settled into place as quickly as they appeared. This felt right.
He looked back at Vinnie and smiled, soft and unmistakably kind.
“Well, that’s unfortunate,” he said. “Because, I like you too.”
Vinnie froze, and for once he noticed how the afternoon sun reflected in Reggie’s golden eyes.
“Ya—you do?”
“Yes,” Reggie said. “Quite inconvenient.”
That did it. Vinnie laughed, real and as breathless as he could be. He hadn’t done that in years. He looked briefly at the sky: “That’s Reg for ya,” he said. He looked back at Reggie, still bashful, and leaned closer.
“Is this okay?” He asked, barely above a whisper.
Reggie looked at Vinnie’s lips and knew what he needed.
“Yeah.”
Their lips met, a little awkward, but definitely them. Reggie trembled against Vinnie. His heart pounded with excitement, and he realized that one kiss did nothing to sate him. Vinnie sensed Reggie’s nerves and placed a steady hand on his waist, grounding them both.
They pulled apart a bit too early for Reggie’s liking. Vinnie rested his alabaster forehead against Reggie’s, and for once in his life he had to control himself.
“So,” Vinnie murmured. “Guess I’m joinin’ the club.”
“The MA Club, or…”
Vinnie kissed him again on the cheek.
“Both.”
And where Reggie had only seen a black hole in Vinnie’s eyes, he now saw a starry sky.