In the middle of September, Lan-Yung was transferred to Slate Middle School. She was set up to take Noon Courses, to help her adjust. The leaves were just beginning to turn from a dark green to a lively yellow. She used to be able to wear whatever she wanted... now, she had a grey and red school uniform. Grey jacket, red plaid skirt. There were worse looks, she supposed. At least it was stylish.
Noon Courses were held unceremoniously in the Detention Room. Her classmates were a bunch of dorks, and an albino kid named 'Rex' for some reason. Instead of doing his homework, Rex chewed on it. He was the only person she'd met so far who had hearing as sensitive as she did: if she sighed, he growled. If she sneezed, he sighed. If her foot moved, he'd yawn and stretch. He hated her, and she hated him back. But she was aiming to finish these extra courses by November, so she suffered the annoyance.
A week later, Lan-Yung left that classroom with a heavy backpack full of books. She dropped them off in her locker down the hall, and sighed. She was swamped with homework, and it pushed her private studies off a cliff in her schedule. A gaggle of girls strutted past her, and whispered that she was lonely, nerdy, and a loser. Then they laughed, looked back at her, and whispered again.
"I think she heard us," one said.
"No way, she's from that handicapped school," said another. "I think she's deaf or something."
"What's she doing here, wearing headphones?"
"Maybe she's the DJ for a Chinese New Year's party."
"How would she know which song is playing?"
They cackled, and turned the corner. Lan-Yung slammed her locker shut, and groaned heavily. The other girls were all pretty, pale, and thin. She was pretty too, if not a little unusual – her black hair had natural brown tips, and her eyes were blue. She was just as thin as they were, and in her opinion, less frail. But those girls had confidence that felt out of reach, and it wasn't nearly as brittle as hers. She didn't care if they liked her, though. She was on the path to success, and by the tests she'd seen passed back to them in math, they were lucky if a gas station would one day hire them. What Lan-Yung needed was a bigger goal. Getting her hearing back was just a warm-up, and playing catch-up at school was just putting her on par with everyone else. Now she wanted to achieve something big, that EVERYONE would see... no, HEAR about. She wanted to be an urban legend, told by one kid to the next, until they were grown-ups clutching at brief glimpses of her in their memories. Circling her out in hi-lighter in a yearbook, 'Most Likely to Succeed', scribbling down madly that she was 'the one that got away'. They'd remember her as Lan-Yung Fi Cheng, not 'the deaf girl'.
She turned away from her locker, books packed neatly into her bag for her next science class. That was when she spotted her father, striding down the hall. She caught up with him.
"Dad!" she called.
"Lan-Yung! How are you?" he asked.
"I'm oka-"
"How's school? Are you making friends?"
"Not really. What are you doing here?"
"I just came to see you, make sure you were settling in okay. See if any bullies were around," he joked. Not that he was joking. "I've heard some things, too. Don't drink any blood, okay?"
"Uh... you mean 'don't do drugs', right?" she clarified.
"No, blood. I've been getting some weird e-mails from the PTA."
"I don't even eat meat anymore, that's not gonna be a problem," she assured him.
"Aya, you'll starve! Go get some protein at the cafeteria!"
"I don't really have time to get into all this again, dad. Beans have protein. And I'm taking B12."
"And ir-"

"AND they have iron!"
"Well, I worry," he moped.
"How's Bullet?" she asked, thinking it might cheer him up to talk about his old dog. The dog was an old black-gold labratriever, and a classic breed at that. She'd been assigned to Han when he was transferred from Chinese Interpol to Canadian, and they'd been best friends ever since. She could still eat fish, and not get an upset stomach. That was why he loved giving her spare flanks, and fish-bones to chew on, which the vet stressed was 'the worst thing he could possibly do'. Bullet never cared, she'd just crunch the whole thing to platelets and mush anyway.
"Shot," Han frowned.
Lan-Yung gasped.
"She's getting her shot today. Then I have to take her back to the station. They want active-duty animals on-site and on-call, so they built a doghouse in the station yard."
"That's cool, right?"
"Means I can't take her home anymore. I'm just scared something's gonna happen to her... and you, if you keep torturing yourself with fad diets. I'm still not even used to you being able to hear me speak, I just don't... I feel like I don't know you so well anymore." He crossed his arms.
"Are you okay?" she asked him.
"Yeah. Do me a favor – go down to the News Room, talk to Duri and Ji-a. They're Korean, they're Ye-Jin's twins. I thought..."
"That because they're girls, we'll get along?" Lan-Yung tried, her eyebrows raised and her eyelids lowered. "Or because they're Asian?"
"...I thought that they could fill you in on who you can and can't trust. This whole vampire thing-"
"VAMPIRE thing?"
"Don't ask me, ask them. Slate is a weird place, but you've got food, a room, and a good education. Duri and Ji-a are good girls. Actually, maybe they can interview you!"
"Dad..." she groaned, following him out the front door.
He stood there, beaming with joy. "You won the lottery, you know that? What you've managed to accomplish in this last year is incredible, and I don't even know how to be proud of you. You're a miracle. At least if the other kids know your story, you might make some friends."
"I haven't DONE anything to be proud of for ANYONE. I don't want to be a 'miracle'."
Han grinned. "You'll always be mine, though, so you're too late." He gave his daughter a hug, and left. Lan-Yung watched him go, and listened to the pebbles under his feet as he crossed the street to his little white car.

Lan-Yung didn't go to the News Room that day. She was scared they'd dress her up in rags, smear dirt on her face, and take sad pictures to raise money. She didn't want to be a charity case, she wanted to be the leader of a worldwide charity. Or something incredible like that. But after a while, curiosity got the best of her... maybe she could use those connections, somehow. When she needed them. When she arrived the next day, she knocked on the door. Then the door knocked back. She knocked again – an echo returned. Frustrated, she knocked three times, hard – before the third, the door opened. She was expecting a buzz of journalists, careening around an office like bees; teenagers dressed like grown adults, with no time for funny business. She couldn't be further from the truth. Inside, Rex sat lazily next to the door. Across from him was a tall blond guy, two girls (Duri and Ji-a, she assumed), and a boy in a red hoodie. One of the girls was recording an interview with a chubby, sickly-looking kid. Then, it was over.
"Thanks, Byron! We appreciate you coming in," she said.
"No problem. Thanks, guys. I hope none of this ever happens again, to anyone," he replied.
The boy in the red hoodie asked, "...you mean AIDS?"
Byron nodded. "Yeah, exactly. They should really stop that."
The boy looked conflicted, but gave Byron a smile. "Yeah, for sure. Fingers crossed, right?"
Rex followed Byron out. The taller girl went to her computer, and started clicking away. The other went to help her, neither of them addressing Lan-Yung at all. The tall guy pivoted to her, and spread his legs. He raised his eyebrows, and Lan-Yung frowned. Without looking, the girls grabbed him by the ear and pulled him over. He'd been caught schmoozing, but it looked like he was already obligated. That left her sitting with the red-hooded kid. He looked really shy, and didn't want to meet her gaze. She waved to him with an open-palm. He didn't look at her.
She summoned some volume and tried a "Hey."
He looked up at her, blushing. Oh, boy. This was a 'crush-at-first-sight' type. She was gonna have to redirect his thoughts somehow, to get at his logical side.
"I like your hair," she tried. He had wavy locks that were spiked out where they fell, and curled at the back, like he'd just gotten it styled. It was like a messy wolf-cut, but more natural, and a little more common-preened. He must care a lot about his appearance, that meant he might be professional. Impressing those types was always a good idea. She smiled at him, for extra effect.
"Huh? Thanks, I woke up this way. I haven't showered yet," he mumbled.
She closed her mouth. Now, she kinda wanted to swat him. "Listen," she tried again, "I need a tour guide. Someone to show me around, tell me the story of this place."
Somehow, that worked! He stood straight up, and bowed to the other three. "We'll be off!" he announced in a British accent, for what she could only assume was some kind of performative joke.
Just her luck – she got the weird, internal-crisis-engine theater kid. He was probably gonna fall madly in love with her, write her a ballad, and then threaten to shoot himself before jumping off a bridge.

He zoomed around the school, waiting for her to catch up at each point. He was really fast, and fit. Now that he was moving, he was also a lot more upbeat and outgoing, too; out of his shell. That was good, cause she really didn't feel like kissing a clam for its pearls of wisdom. The only thing she was worried about now was how to make him clam back up again, when she was finished with him.
"So what's up with this 'vampire' thing?" she asked him.
He zipped from room to room, floor to floor, around the school, taking her for a jog. He explained the history of Slate's grander tale: once a prison, now a boarding school, possibly a government experiment in re-using Indigenous Assimilation tactics on the middle class. Formerly, host to Vlad Sebastian Moldovan, and his Inner Circle. Their nemeses: Rex the Raider, and Sir Noddy the Rat. Now Vlad was defeated, and was reformed back to being a cute emo alt-rocker. His Inner Circle never actually existed, at all. Their imaginary crime: an organized blood-theft ring that targeted unsuspecting students at random. There were other stories, too: Rex had the power to shock things, with his bare hands; he'd been born in a flaming sewer, and came to Canada through a portal between time and space. Or so he claimed. The tour guide himself, named Ray, had been on his own adventures as well. Like sleeping in the woods behind the school, because Rex stole his identity. He got caught smoking with Sebastian by Nadal, who made a strange, melodramatic fakevid about it. Now Sebastian was suspended, until further notice... Ray said he missed his friend. That, and Ray'd recently been diagnosed as intersex, and forced to change his designation to 'other'. He was a bit upset that he didn't have any nicer-sounding options, because somehow, the word made him feel estranged. Almost like it... 'othered' him. Crazy how that works. Lan-Yung knew the feeling well, having been othered her entire life. She asked him about his other problem... the autism.
"My what?" he asked.
"You... haven't noticed yet?" she asked back. To her, it was obvious. She'd been around so many special needs kids in her life, she could practically tell what they were dealing with at a glance. Ray had the same look, or maybe a lack of one, it was always hard to define. But it was there.
He stared at something distant, and looked back at her. "I uh... I dunno. It would explain some things, I guess. Like why I get along with Byron, so easily. Nobody else seems to understand him like I can, so he gets picked on a lot. Personally, though, I find him a little clingy and distracted. I must not be as far on the spectrum as he is."
Ray felt that he and Byron were similar, in that they were both a bit off-beat. Ray, however, was high-functioning, while Byron was in Special Ed. Rex was somewhere between them. While Lan-Yung was looking to keep her distance, for fear of being associated, Ray saw humanity in those boys, perhaps better than any other student could. He didn't mind being associated, because he didn't care if he was popular, nor did he believe he could be dragged down by anyone; least of all the 'handicapped kids'. Nobody else saw the reason in their misrhyme. To him, it would be more damning to be considered a friend of Darnell's, whoever that was. But Ray didn't understand why Byron could get so SET on a specific track, like his mind hadn't yet learned to switch gears and keep up. Byron couldn't adapt. Rex couldn't take in new information very easily, but he could at least go with the flow of the mo', so to speak. All Ray could really do was wait for them to catch up, or find his way back to whatever they were stuck on.
"What can I say?" Ray shrugged. "People are intricate."