Andrew’s eyebrows drew together. “Why would I stop being your friend if I was a vampire?”

“Because!” Jonathan cried. The word echoing down the dark street, magnifying Jonathan’s exasperation. “If you could have any other friend, why would you need me? I’m some short idiot you met in high school. A high school that doesn’t even exist anymore! And I don’t want to be a vampire. Or Ascend into a demon. And I’m not gay. So how can I compete with people who are more like you than I am?”

Andrew finally looked up at him, the ghost of a smile flickering across his face. “You’re still a lot like me, Jonathan, even if you are straight. I mean, we’re dressed identically.”

Jonathan touched his turtleneck. “For safety.”

“And you’re the only other person I know who likes old British sitcoms,” Andrew continued. “Who else is gonna watch Fawlty Towers and Are You Being Served? with me?”

“You could meet a vampire who loves farce,” Jonathan grumbled. The more his pique faded, the more ridiculous he felt for picking the argument.

Falling into silence, he and Andrew resumed their trek through the heart of downtown. A cool breeze flapped the edges of the flyers they pinned to the lampposts and trees. Overhead, jacaranda flowers fluttered but didn’t fall. Jonathan had spent his entire life dreading the annual appearance of the blue-violet flowers. Every spring, when downtown would become carpeted in petals, Jonathan’s eyes would itch and swell shut. He’d sneeze hard enough to propel himself backward, leading to years of Sneezy Dwarf jokes. But now whatever spell kept the trees blooming all year round also protected Jonathan from their allergens. He could even stick his nose directly into a trumpet flower and inhale its soft perfume without getting sick. To him, it was the most magical magic in Demondale.

“I’m sorry I never told you,” Andrew said suddenly. “About me.”

“I’m sorry I never asked,” Jonathan said, retreating from the jacaranda tree. “Did you want me to ask?”

“Not really,” Andrew said, smoothing a scrap of Scotch tape against a plywood board nailed over the windows of a shuttered Christian Science reading room. “Then you might ask why I never date guys.”

“Oh,” Jonathan said. “Have you? Dated guys, I mean.”

Andrew laughed over his shoulder. “Jonathan, we’ve known each other for four years. We live together! How would I hide having an entire love life from you? Don’t you think you would have noticed if I liked anyone?”

Continuing up the street, Jonathan pressed his lips together, his mental gears grinding while he considered this.