What We Are

Chapter 8: Rock in a River

Idyllic Innovations University was one of three Ivy League schools in New Oasis state. The institution boasted first-rate academic resources, up-to-date facilities with the latest laboratory equipment technology has to offer, and years of scholastic achievements from their thousands of alumni. Undoubtedly, there was promised social prestige for anyone who managed to get into such a selective university. The different buildings were all named after the school's six core values—excellence, responsibility, service, growth, solidarity, and compassion.

Claude had gotten into I.I.U. after qualifying for the school's full scholarship. It was mostly why he worked so hard to keep his grades up; though even if he had flunked out of the scholarship program, his family would be more than capable of affording his education in the school.

There were approximately three thousand humans, vampires, and werewolves enrolled in Idyllic Innovations University. Having gone to a private school near Tempest Grounds for his secondary education, Idyllic Innovations University's seemingly endless hallways, hundreds of classrooms, and the vast area covered by the six buildings plus outside courts and a sports complex had terrified Claude back then. Not to mention the culture shock of moving into the city and interacting daily with city people who did not have the same decorum Claude had been brought up with.

It took Claude the majority of his first year at I.I.U. for him to finally stop getting lost. Growth Library alone had three floors, with several meeting rooms and lounge areas tucked into its corners.

On Mondays, Claude liked to hang out in the library while he waited for ten o'clock to arrive. Growth Library was next to Solidarity building where his Global Business class took place, and in the library he was allowed to catch up with a movie he'd been meaning to watch online.

"I can't believe you're laughing at your phone before Global Business. We've got a quiz, Claudius."

Claude pressed his lips together to keep himself from smiling. "I studied last night."

"I hate you."

Pausing his movie, Claude let the grin break free from his mouth at his friend's pouting face. "I had nothing else to do with my time. Not all of us have a thriving social life, Lottie."

Lottie was hunched over her tablet, strands of her hair falling from her high ponytail, framing her oval-shaped face. The university was strict about students wearing their uniforms properly, but Lottie had her sleeves rolled up without care, her navy blue, pin-striped necktie untucked from her school vest. "You choose not to have a thriving social life," She stated matter-of-factly. "I asked if you wanted to come with Arnold, Kezia, and I, but you said no. See? We could've both been studying right now."

Claude fiddled with his phone. "I haven't spoken to either of them since everyone happened to be reminded of my lineage."

"They don't care about that, trust me. They haven't approached you either because they want to give you some space." Lottie gazed upwards without moving from her position. "Claude, don't tell me you've been purposely avoiding possible friendships because you're the next Head Vampire for that little Clan of yours?"

"That little Clan is made up of thousands of families," He told Lottie gently, smiling with mirth.

"Yes, yes, and you all live in grand castles with hundreds of servants, and you lay in your coffin-shaped beds with thoughts about how you're better than all of us humans." Lottie's voice had taken a theatrical lilt, her features morphing with every part of her sentence. She was grinning by the end of it.

Claude and Lottie have been friends since the first week of college. Four years of friendship has given enough opportunities for Claude to help Lottie understand the world of vampires better, specifically vampires in Gratia Clan. Lottie already knew a lot about vampires in general, as she had refused to believe nonsensical rumors about Claude's species even before they met.

That being said, Lottie always liked using the ridiculous things some stubborn humans continued to believe about vampires to tease Claude. In turn, Claude piled onto the joke. Their humors were compatible that way, usually misunderstood by a lot of people who happened to overhear.

Claude sighed exaggeratedly, taking out his flat-ironed handkerchief from the pocket of his black, school-issued slacks to dab at the corners of his dry forehead. "We don't even think about humans, the idea's preposterous."

Lottie snickered quietly before leaning her head heavily onto her hand, blatantly ignoring her tablet and the fact that they had an exam at ten. "You know what else is preposterous? I heard that arranged marriages still happen in your Clan. Is that true?"

There were plenty of students in I.I.U. who were part of Gratia Clan, most of them in different year levels than Claude. If Claude had to take a guess as to who had told Lottie that bit of information... "Has Phineas been attracting crowds again?"

"Doesn't he always?" Though there was only a grain of chance that Phineas would pass by at the exact moment they chose to talk about him, Lottie looked left and right at their chosen nook in the library just to make sure. "Well? Was he telling the truth?"

"There are families who stick to the old ways, albeit in less intense versions of the customs  Clans used to follow. I know a handful of couples who didn't get married because of love, but because it would benefit both their families—business, finance, the like. Not-so-frequently, they'd match people to lift their overall standing." The distaste grew crystal clear on Lottie's face the longer Claude explained. "I don't agree with arranged marriages," Claude added, as if it weren't obvious. "But it's always going to be their decision to push through with it, you know? Some traditionalist vampires see marrying for their family's prosperity as an honor."

"We live in the twenty-first century, that shouldn't be a—" Lottie stopped, lips freezing on the vowel. She slowly rolled up from her hunched stance. "Will your family expect you to agree to an arranged marriage?"

"Huh. The thought hadn't even occurred to me." Claude chewed on his bottom lip, really thinking about the possibility. "Mother and father were introduced to each other in the hopes that they'd form a connection. They fell in love and got married, so... I'm not sure. Honestly, they might just try to get me to be a better heir and Head Vampire before they start talking to me about partners."

The self-deprecation might have not been as nonchalant as Claude hoped. Lottie tsk'ed, sounding exactly like how his mother would usually reprimand him. "You know, Claude, I might not know what it's like to be in your world, nor do I know exactly how your Clan actually operates, but I do know you're already putting yourself down before you even try. Was there ever a twenty-something individual who stepped up to their position and was immediately loved by everyone?"

The someone that came to mind was Dean. "I can think of a couple," Claude mumbled.

She gave him a look that said not the point. "You shouldn't give in to whatever thing it is trying to bring you down. If I already choose to give up at the idea of challenges heading my way, how do you expect me to lead my volleyball team and get us into nationals?" She reached out to take Claude's hand. Claude instantaneously intertwined their fingers, the weight of Lottie's hand familiar and comforting. "How will you possibly convince other people to believe in you if you don't even believe in yourself?"

The onslaught of emotion was enough to make Claude swallow. "I'm trying, Lottie."

"Good," Lottie smiled reassuringly. "Then you can try harder by having lunch with me, Kezia, and Arnold." She saw the protest before Claude could voice it out. "They're your friends too, Claude. They miss you."

Claude conceded, forcing an easy smile onto his face to try and lighten the mood. "You know, I don't recall how we became friends."

"I introduced them to you, they liked you, the rest is history," Lottie answered directly.

"I meant you and me."

Lottie squeezed their still clasped hands. "We were both hopeless. Misery loves company."

Claude's shoulder shook as he tried to taper down a laugh. "I don't think that's what that proverb means, Lottie." And Lottie was never hopeless. Claude had no qualms admitting to anyone that the athlete was brighter than him in so many ways.

"It's going to mean what I say it means, Claude."

Claude wished he had an ounce of the type of confidence Lottie had—making phrases bend to her will, Heavens.

-----

Lottie and Claude breezed through the multiple choice exam. Mr. Lasern's lecture afterwards was interesting and kept everyone occupied enough to ignore the growing hunger in their stomachs the closer twelve o'clock crept up.

Their proferros dismissed them with a reminder to finish their assigned reading for the week. Then, unexpectedly, "Mr. Fernsby, please stick around after class."

Claude exchanged looks with Lottie, both of them unsure. The only times Claude's been asked to stay behind was when a professor liked a particular paper he wrote or something along that line. Mr. Lasern's face and tone hadn't given away anything.

Lottie was the last student in their lecture room to leave besides Claude. "I'll meet you in Compassion," She gave Claude's arm a squeeze, bidding Mr. Lasern goodbye before she closed the lecture room's door behind her.

The walk to the professor's desk upfront never seemed so daunting. Claude's bag dangled from his shoulder, one hand inside his pocket to hide how nervous he was. 

Mr. Lasern was a tall, gangly man whose dark hair was starting to thin out in the middle. Over his burgundy glasses, he looked up at Claude, not pausing from tidying his things. "How are you, Mr. Fernsby?"

"I've been well, Mr. Lasern. May I ask what this is about?" 

The professor's hands paused from where they were trying to fit a folder into his bag. Claude saw the bob of his adam's apple, saw the lines in his face deepen. Mr. Lasern's whole demeanor screamed nervous, and Claude had no idea why.

"Mr. Fernsby," He said once he stretched to his proper height, adjusting the sleeves of his tweed jacket. The fake nonchalance might've been believable if Claude wasn't so familiar with the act himself. "What I wish to speak to you about has nothing to do with our subject, or the school for that matter."

Ah. "Is this about our Clan?"

Mr. Lasern cleared his throat again, eyes shifty and shoulders unbelievably tense. "Yes, I'm afraid so. However inappropriate this may be, and no matter the countless times I've told myself not to... I believe that risking my position here in I.I.U. is worth it if it means you'll allow me to speak about a matter that has concerned me for too long."

The weight behind those words had Claude's palms feeling cold and clammy. The silence of the room only added to the slightly ominous aura that's settled between them. "Mr. Lasern, if such a matter is as serious as you make it appear, then by all means speak your mind."

The professor held his chin up higher, steeling any other emotion away from his face. He rounded the table to stand closer to Claude. On the same ground, Claude had to look up slightly to meet Mr. Lasern's gaze. "You know me, therefore you may know that my family is not like most families in Gratia Clan. Though we are all vampires, we are not wealthy, nor do we have any significant positions in Gratia Clan, in the business world, or the New Oasis government. I've been trying to write to your parents for nearly two years, but my letters go unanswered, though for the record I believe this has more to do with the family I used to work with and less about your parents."

"You used to work with the Peev's, is that right?" Claude remembered that little detail from a distant talk he's had with his parents before he began studying at I.I.U. "What were the contents of your letters, sir?"

Manju Lasern seemed to hesitate once more. "I have a wife, her name is Irene. She's a werewolf, a beta."

Claude was not expecting that. Manju Lasern was a vampire from a traditional family in Gratia Clan. Such a marriage would have undoubtedly reached the ears of even those uninterested in their Clan.

Unless Professor Manju Lasern has kept his marriage a secret.

Claude kept his face blank, knowing the professor would be eyeing him for even a twitch of disapproval. Once Mr. Lasern deemed that Claude was not thrown off by this, he continued, "We got married at City Hall five years ago, but she continues to live with her parents here in the city. You see, I want her to live with me in Tempest Grounds, because I have a home big enough to fit both of us. But she won't be protected there." The drawl of Mr. Lasern's voice whenever he'd run through his PowerPoint Presentation was nowhere to be heard.

"Sir, with all due respect, Gratia Clan protects everyone part of it. Irene is your wife, and therefore she's legally part of our Clan." Claude has been taught the duties and responsibilities of his Clan—and more importantly, the duties and responsibilities of a Head Vampire—since he was a child no older than six.

"No." Mr. Lasern shook his head gently, eyes taking a sad expression. "Gratia Clan protects all vampires and humans part of it. Nowhere in our Book of Laws has it been stated that werewolves would receive the same sort of protection."

Claude's world stopped, then it started for a second before it promptly stopped again.

He'd read Gratia Clan: Book of Laws from front cover to back numerous times, memorizing every section and most of the rules by heart. He was sure of the protection Gratia Clan has offered since it began here in New Oasis state—it's what made their Clan stronger than any other Clan, and it's what convinced other families to pledge their loyalty and their devotion to the Clan.

And yet, now that it was pointed out, Claude realized that Mr. Lasern was right about the Book of Laws not once mentioning the protection of werewolves who became part of their Clan specifically.

Claude had—naïvely—thought it was implied.

"Let's say that it's true," Claude said after a moment of heavy silence. His own throat felt drier now, making it harder to speak up. "The absence of the word werewolves in our Book of Laws means what you say it means. What makes you so certain that your wife won't be safe?"

For the first time since they've spoken, Mr. Lasern looked at Claude like he was a child who knew nothing of the real world.

It should have made Claude feel awful. Instead, Claude was beginning to think the same as Mr. Lasern.

"My family has been working for the Peev's since I can remember," Mr. Lasern informed him. "Before I became a professor, I was a butler for Julius Peev's father. Hearing the way their family talked about werewolves, having witnessed what I have growing up with the Peev's..." The far-off look in the professor's eyes made it obvious that he was remembering a certain event he wished to forget. 

Claude wished he knew what the man was thinking about, but he wasn't sure how much more surprises he could take. 

"Claudius, I hope you forgive me for what I'm about to say. I'd much rather depart from Gratia Clan than bring my Irene anywhere near Tempest Grounds."

Claude could not even blame Manju Lasern for his sentiments on this regard, and he had no arguments whatsoever which could convince his professor and Clan member to reconsider these thoughts. 

It was an incredibly defeating feeling.  

"I.. I'm not Head Vampire yet, Mr. Lasern." If he were anywhere else, Claude would have beat himself up for the way his voice shook at the end. It's getting harder to breathe; his tongue was a dessert but his eyes might've been watering a little. "I don't know—"

"Mr. Fernsby, I'd like to commend you for continuously excelling in your classes. You're a gifted individual indeed, but your power does not end inside the four walls of a classroom.=," Mr. Lasern levelled with him. "You have to realize that, while you are not yet Head Vampire, your words and your thoughts can make all the difference."

Claude's bottom lip quivered and he looked down at his shoes. He could practically hear his father's reproach to the all-too-improper gesture. "I'll look into it, Mr. Lasern." His voice was a small, wavering thing.

Speak like you want to be heard, Claudius, his father would have said. Speak like you were born to be heard.

"That's truly more than I could have hoped for, Mr. Fernsby."

-----

Claude purposely delayed his arrival at Compassion building.

In all honesty, he'd much rather crawl into a hole and be alone with his muddled thoughts in the dark where nobody could judge him for it. Alas, once he arrived into the cafeteria, Lottie spotted him immediately and waved him over, making Kezia and Arnold look over their shoulders and smile at Claude expectantly.

While most people usually lost their appetites when presented with troubling affairs, Claude did the opposite—he buried his troubles with copious amounts of food. It distracted him, sort of. He's aware it's not a healthy coping mechanism, but that's knowledge he actively chose to not deal with.

Lottie got a good look at the two sandwiches, the salad bowl, the small serving of fries, and the two juice boxes in Claude's tray. "Uh-oh. Stress-eating, that's a bad sign."

"Lottie told us. What happened with Mr. Lasner?" Kezia's brows knitted in concern, her unwrapped sandwich held in one hand. Her voice had a darker timbre than most women, but her face was nothing if not gentle.

Claude stabbed at his salad with the thin, wooden fork they were provided. "It was about Gratia Clan."

"What about your Clan?" Arnold asked in the midst of chewing on his nachos. He got a smear of cheese on his mouth. Kezia was quick to wipe at it with a tissue. "Wait. Is Mr. Lasern a Gratia vampire? I didn't know that."

Claude, unable to resist anymore, shoved a forkful of lettuce tomato drenched with thousand island dressing into his mouth. Kezia tilted her head, long, wavy tresses swaying with the movement. "Claude, I know we're not part of your Clan, nor are we vampires, but if you want to talk about it, we're here to listen," The omega reassured him. 

"I'm alright, Kezia. It's something I'll need to discuss with my parents first." Claude had no idea what the consequences would be if he brought up Mr. Lasern's concern while he was still realizing the matter for himself. It's crucial that Claude first collect his thoughts, come up with an action plan, then he could comfortably discuss this. "So much of that. What's new with the two of you?" He asked the werewolves, hoping not to ruin this pleasant lunchtime for any of them.

Arnold wasn't one to force people to say what they didn't want to say. That being said, he gave Claude a knowing look, the change of topic not going unnoticed."Kezia and I are planning to join the Axel Pack," The alpha said anyway. 

Claude felt his chest rise both at the mention of the Axel Pack and at the face of a love as strong as the one Arnold and Kezia had for each other, the pair smiling at one another as if they're the only ones in the room. 

"Our families have never wanted to join any pack, but I suggested that we look into it." Kezia's whole face lit up. "If we're going to have pups of our own, I'd want to know that a whole Pack has my back in case anything happened to them."

Lottie choked on her juice box, coughing into her hand. Claude continued to sip on his tiny straw, patting Lottie's back. "Wait," Lottie said after checking that she wasn't going to die from artificially flavored apple juice. "You two are already thinking about having kids?!"

"Not immediately," Kezia laughed. "I may be twenty-two, but I like to plan ahead. Besides, Arnold and I are already mated. It's not like I haven't promised my future to him."

The volleyball captain stared at Claude with her jaw slack, eyes bulging. "I think my fear of commitment just yelled at me."

Claude smiled in sympathy at Lottie before returning his attention to Arnold and Kezia. "I'm sure the Axel Pack will be lucky to have both of you," And he meant it.

"I never got the chance to ask you. But seeing your reaction, I can already assume the answer. " Arnold leaned over their table to get closer to Claude. "There's no bad blood between you and the Axel Pack then?"

Claude had been in the middle of taking a bite of his sandwich. It fell down the wrong pipe.

"This might've been a conversation better suited when we're not putting food or drinks in our mouths." Lottie patted Claude's back with less tenderness than when Claude had done the action to her.

Claude took greedy gulps of juice from his tiny straw, waving away their worried looks. "I'm sorry," He said, dabbing at his mouth. "Um. Where did you hear that from?"

"Phineas," Kezia and Lottie answered at the same time.

"To be fair," Lottie was quick to add. "He was pertaining to Gratia Clan and the Axel Pack collectively."

"The guy's a douche. I don't really believe much of what comes out of his pie hole." Arnold pointed his unopened burrito at Claude. "I know you're not some stuck-up vampire. You defended Kezia and I from the idiots in this school plenty of times already. I just needed to hear from you that you're not planning to suddenly hate us because we're joining the Pack of your greatest rival." The way Arnold said the last bit of his statement told Claude the werewolf was mocking someone else's words.

Claude sighed. "No, no bad blood."

"The tension's definitely there though," Lottie mumbled.

She looked up from her bento box at the silence. Upon seeing their expressions, she leaned back. "What? I'm human but everybody in New Oasis knows that the Axel Pack and the Gratia Clan aren't exactly friends." 

Claude wondered what his three friends would think if he told them the truth about his friendship with Dean.

"They're in civil terms," Claude stated, feeling like he was being recorded or something.

Lottie raised her eyebrow. "Which is sugar-coating for?"

"The prominent figures in both groups don't like each other," Arnold answered.

Another sigh, except it came from Kezia not Claude. "Whatever the case, it's really nice that Claude supports us. It says a great deal about who you'll be as a Head Vampire."

Claude took another bite of his sandwich so he wouldn't have to tell them that the details Mr. Lasern had just revealed made him feel like he was no better than a rock in a river; the real issues happening in their worlds were the water which flowed over and around him.

Soon, the current might just knock him from where he stood, strong enough that the waves could take Claude under.