“I had to hide and lie about who I was when I was mortal. But now … there are places where guys get to hold hands in public, go on dates, and say ‘I love you’ out loud. They get to go to movies about other guys who hold hands and say ‘I love you.’” The loose, melting snow is gradually soaking his unruly hair, and he runs a hand through it to get it out of his face. “I might be the only vampire on the planet who actually misses being human, but there it is. I wasn’t trying to lie to you, I just…” He turns his palms up. “I just wanted to go out with a cute guy. To flirt and have fun, and maybe … you know, make out, if it felt right. I like doing those things. But I didn’t know this was your first real date, and I don’t want you to go through what I did. I’m honestly sorry if I hurt you by not telling you before.”

Another silence passes, Gunnar looking at his feet while I search for something to say. I’ve heard stories about vampires “mainstreaming” before, having jobs and friends, and defiantly going around like normal people—almost always in major cities, though, and never in Fulton Heights. All of our vampires have only ever wanted world domination.

But it’s not like he hasn’t had countless opportunities to mesmerize me. I invited him into my home, for Pete’s sake. I showed him an open wound on my elbow, and not only did he control the urge to feed after smelling my blood—something that supposedly drives vampires into a frenzy—he actually tried to help me. And he resisted sinking his teeth into that poor woman at Sugar Mama’s, even after she was thrown on top of him, spilling blood all over the place.

“If you really want to,” I begin, before I can change my mind, “you can drive me home.”

I don’t regret the choice. By the time we’re in his car, I’m soaking wet and shivering, and the heat that blasts from the vents is a godsend. Once we’re on the road again, he says, for the third time, “I really am sorry, Auggie.”

“It’s okay.” I can’t believe I’m apologizing to a vampire. “I … you didn’t really lie to me. A lie by omission, maybe, but”—I never told you I only said yes in the first place because I wanted to kiss a boy before getting taken over by an evil spirit—“you told me the truth when it counted. And I guess I never really considered what it would be like to … you know, be a vampire.”