Chapter 3: Glasses

Lucan closed his eyes like he had practiced for so many years, to feign sleep, but his eyes kept snapping open as his mind buzzed with fresh new thoughts. What if he doesn't like me? When should I tell him I'm a vampire? Would the clan like this? No, thought Lucan. They definitely would not like this.

One thing he had to do though was to make a phone call to Reza as soon as possible. Reza would know what to do. He always knew. Well, most of the time, anyway. Lucan had befriended the red-haired vampire when he was brought to the clan and their personalities fit together perfectly. The wise and fiery Reza Quin balanced the curious and aloof Lucian Mihai.

Lucan Monclair was his "human" name – the name printed on all his legal documents and transcripts (all fake, of course) that validated his existence presently as a human being. He existed as a human being over a hundred years ago – but his real human name was no longer used, and all documents stating that name should have been long gone by now, buried in the past.

It would seem confusing to have three names, but to Lucan it was all perfectly clear. Each of his names defined the past, present and future respectively. As an immortal, he would live forever with his new found "family". The clan members would refer to him as Lucian when he was with them. At his present location, he was, and will stay, as Lucan Montclair.

Just as he was going through his mental schedule of the following day (for he always found it necessary to have a planned out path to follow for everything he did), a muffled groan disrupted the silence. Lucan's eyes snapped open, wincing at once at the bright sunlight that filtered through the thin curtains covering the dorm's only window.

Morning came faster than expected to Lucan. For once he didn't have to count the minutes ticking by, waiting for the sleep that would never come. On his left, Espen gave a load yawn and tossed his comforter aside.

"Oh shit," the boy cursed, his eyes wide at once as he stared at his alarm clock. "I forgot to set the alarm last night. We have like ten minutes before class starts."

"That's enough time." Lucan assured him as he sat up and started to get dressed. Espen didn't answer him as he clutched his towel and a change of clothes and dashed into the bathroom, slamming the door. Honestly, thought Lucan, didn't people usually say "Good Morning" when they wake up?

Lucan ran a hand through his silky black hair and stared at his tiny reflection in the polished door handle. The same 17 year old face looked back at him, as it did for the past hundred and twenty-two years. His hand paused on the handle as he heard the sound of running water.

"Espen?" He called. When he didn't hear a reply, he rapped on the bathroom door.

"We're going to be late if you don't hurry."

"It's okay, just leave without me."

Lucan paused.

"I can't do that."

"Yes you can," Espen shouted over the noise of the water. "Just go," Espen urged when he heard no reply. "I'll meet you in homeroom."

That's right – they had homeroom together. Lucan ran through his timetable mentally and compared it with Espen's, which was taped on his side of the wall. He shared three of his five classes with Espen. Smiling at the wall, Lucan picked up his school materials and headed out the door.

The walk to the main building of the school was a short one. A handful of students walked briskly past him and others sprinting, their faces concealed behind scarves. Already the air had a certain bite to it. St. Peter's Academy was located up north, situated amidst a blanket of conifers and bordered by a distant chain of mountains. Reza had given him directions to this school and offered to do his paperwork for him. He had been traveling in the South for some time, bored of the cold, and thinking that he was on the right trail. When he detected a change in the scent, Lucan found himself once again in the northern regions of the world. Snow always made him feel nostalgic. He couldn't help thinking that being lead to this location was nothing but fate after all.

Lucan made his way into the English classroom just as the plump Professor Laidla bustled in. A hushed silence immediately followed, and all eyes seemed gravitate towards Lucan. He made his way to the back of the classroom. The Professor immediately launched into the day's lesson, completely unaware that more than half of the students in his class weren't paying the slightest attention to his talk of literary theses.

Lucan ignored the hushed whispers like he had done yesterday, and sat down at the desk near the aisle. The desks were arranged in three rows of twos. Across the aisle on his right was another empty desk, and beside it sat a black-haired boy who wasn't there the day before.

The boy turned as if he had felt Lucan's gaze. Immediately Lucan felt what he hadn't felt in a long time and it took him a while to figure out what it was exactly: dislike. As soon as he met the boy's eyes, which were the colour of darkened honey, alarms went off in his head. Lucan felt an unfriendly aura radiating from him by the way his eyebrows arched as he took in his appearance. The boy then stuck out his hand.

"I'm Leland."

"Lucan," Lucan offered and grasped Leland's hand stiffly. "Who sits next to you?" Lucan indicated the vacant desk between them.

"Espen," Leland said with a sneer as he adjusted his glasses that sat on the bridge of his long and pointed nose.

For the first time since being turned immortal, Lucan felt cold. It was as if his insides were frozen long ago, and he could only feel the side effects during this moment. Lucan saw Leland's leering smile at the sight of his own surprised expression, just before someone clambered into the classroom's back door.

"Detention, Mr. Loire," Professor Laidla said airily as Espen claimed the seat next to Leland. He flushed and replied with a surly "Yes, Sir." He nodded a greeting to Leland, brushing strands of his still-damp hair out of his face. Spotting Lucan, he motioned him closer. With some reluctance, Lucan edged closer to Espen.

"How'd you get here so fast?" Espen whispered, careful to keep his voice low as the Professor shot their corner of the room a suspicious glance.

"Oh, I ran," Lucan replied lamely. He knew it was a mistake.

"You don't look very out of breath for someone who was running." Leland put in softly.

Espen blinked and pushed his chair back a bit so Lucan could have a clear view of Leland.

"Oh yeah, Lucan, this is-"

"Leland. I know," Lucan cut Espen's introduction short. Espen cocked his head to one side like a dog's and looked at Leland, who nodded.

"How did you-"

"Would you like one more detention, Mr. Loire?"

"No, sir."

Thankful for the interruption, Lucan busied himself with playing the role of a St. Peter's Academy student. He concentrated on Professor Laidla's bald patch to keep his mind off the sickly sweet smell that was now coming from his right. The scent was mixed with a whole bunch of other smells, making Lucan feel nauseous. He needed air, and most of all, he needed blood, and fast. The ticking clock on the wall seemed to mock him. He felt like a prisoner all by himself, even though there were fifteen other inmates with him.