"What do you mean?" I pretended I didn't know what he was talking about.
"You've been steering clear of me these past two weeks," he said. "It wasn't obvious at first, but each day you've been spending less time with me. You didn't even pick me when we were playing basketball in gym last Thursday."
"You're not very good at basketball," I said. It was a lame excuse, but I couldn't think of a better one.
"I was confused at first," Steve said, "but then I figured it out. You didn't get lost the night of the freak show, did you? You stuck around, up in the balcony probably, and saw what happened between me and Vur Horston."
"No, I didn't! "I snapped.
"No?" he asked.
"No," I lied.
"You didn't see anything?"
"No."
"You didn't see me talking to Vur Horston?"
"No!"
"You didn't…"
"Look, Steve," I interrupted, "whatever happened between you and Mr. Crepsley is your business. I wasn't there, didn't see it, don't know what you're talking about. Now if…"
"Don't lie to me, Darren," he said.
"I'm not lying!" I lied.
"Then how did you know I was talking about Mr. Crepsley?" he asked.
"Because…" I bit my tongue.
"I said I was talking to
My shoulders sagged. I sat on the bed beside Steve. "Okay," I said, "I admit it. I was in the balcony."
"How much did you see and hear?" Steve asked.
"Everything. I couldn't see what he was doing when he was sucking out your blood, or hear what he was saying. But apart from that…"
"Everything," Steve finished with a sigh. "That's why you've been avoiding me: because he said I was evil."
"Partly," I said. "But mostly because of what
"In books and movies, yes," Steve said. "This is different. This is real life. I wouldn't have hurt you, Darren."
"Maybe," I said. "Maybe not. The point is, I don't want to find out. I don't want to be friends with you anymore. You could be dangerous. What if you met another vampire and this one granted your wish? Or what if Mr. Crepsley was right and you're really evil and…"
"I'm not evil!" Steve shouted, and shoved me back on the bed. He leaped on my chest and stuck his fingers in my face. "Take that back!" he roared. "Take that back, or so help me, I'll jerk your head off and…"
"I take it back! I take it back!" I shrieked. Steve was heavy on my chest, his face flushed and furious. I would have said anything to get him off.
He sat perched on my chest a few seconds longer, then grunted and rolled off. I sat up, gasping, rubbing my face where he had poked it.
"Sorry," Steve mumbled. "That was over the top. But I'm upset. It hurt, what Mr. Crepsley said, and you ignoring me at school. You're my best friend, Darren, the only person I can really talk to. If you break up our friendship, I don't know what I'll do."
He started to cry. I watched him for a few seconds, torn between fear and sympathy. Then my nobler self got the better of me and I put an arm around his shoulder. "It's okay," I said. "I'll still be your friend. C'mon, Steve, quit crying, okay?"
He tried but it took a while for the tears to stop. "I must look like a total fool," he finally sniffed.
"No," I said. "
Steve stared at me curiously. "What were you going to say?" he asked.
"Nothing," I said. "It was a slip of the tongue."
He grunted. "You're a bad liar, Shan. Always were. Tell me what it was you were about to let slip."
I studied his face, wondering if I should tell him. I knew I shouldn't, that it could only mean trouble, but I felt sorry for him. Besides, I needed to tell someone. I wanted to show off my wonderful pet and the great tricks we could do.
"Can you keep a secret?" I asked.
"Of course," he snorted.
"This is a big one. You can't tell anyone, okay? If I tell you, it has to stay between the two of us. If you ever talk…"
"
"Wait a minute," I said. I got off the bed and opened the door to the room. "Mom?" I shouted.
"Yes?" came her muffled reply.
"I'm showing Steve my flute," I yelled. "I'm going to teach him how to play it, but only if we're not disturbed, okay?"
"Okay," she called back.
I closed the door and smiled at Steve. He looked puzzled. "A flute?" he asked. "Your big secret is a flute?"
"That's part of it," I said. "Listen, do you remember Madam Octa? Mr. Crepsley's spider?"