The End

4. Unsafe

(Phil's car ^)

Dan's POV:

( 2 weeks later [cuz I'm a lazy human] )

Phil and I stand in a less crowded hallway waiting for school to start. Thank god it's Friday. We're already over the awkward stages of a new friendship. He's slowly telling me things about his life. Still, I haven't told him what I am. It makes me feel like I'm lying to him. I plan to tell him, but I just don't know how. I remember asking my parents for help.

* Flashback to Monday *

We are sitting at the dinner table eating chicken with some kind of pasta. I decide to tell them what happened earlier today.

"Uhm... So I have something to tell you both," I say looking at them.

"What is it, Daniel?" asks my mum putting her fork down. My father looks at me as he continues to eat.

"Okay so today at school I noticed this guy. I don't know why, but he stood out to me. He fell and I helped him up. And I'm sure you guys know where I'm going with this."

My mum's eyes get all teary and she gives me a huge smile. My dad gives me the 'I'm proud of you' face.

"It turns out he's the One. It was a bit weird how I instinctively knew it was him. You were right, dad."

He chuckles. "I told you so."

I smile and then frown. "But there's one problem. How do I tell him that I'm his Protector without creeping him out?"

"That, my boy," starts my dad, "is something you will have to figure out yourself."

That's just great.

* end of flashback *

Phil snaps me out of my thoughts. "Dan, are you alright? You look a bit pale."

"Yeah"--cough--"I'm fine. Just a bit cold," I half lie.

The truth is that I am sick. I refuse to accept it, though. That wasn't going to stop me from going to school. Who knows what could happen if I leave Phil all by himself in this hell!

"If you say so," replies Phil skeptically.

The bell rings and we say our goodbyes. I walk to English as he walks to History.

It's hard to focus on the already boring English when you're sick. From the back of the class all you can hear is me caughing and sniffling. Everyone tries to sit as far away from me as possible. I don't blame them; I would do the same thing.

Half way through the class I can feel the vomit slowly climb its way up my esophagus. Without asking for permission, I put my hand over my mouth and run out the classroom towards the nearest toilets. Mr. Johnson must have seen how ill I looked because he doesn't stop me. I make it just in time to empty my stomach in the toilet and not the hallway. I'm sure anyone walking by could hear me dying in here.

I knew I shouldn't have eaten that bagel.

After I'm done emptying my stomach, I clean myself up and decide to go to the health office. I can't stay here any longer.

Forgive me, Phil.

The nurse tells me I have a fever and that I should go home before I "get the other students sick." She has someone bring my stuff from the class so I could leave. I sit in a plastic folding chair in the corner of the room. I rest my head against the wall and try to concentrate on not throwing up again.

A couple minutes later, a girl--if that's what you would call her--walks in with my stuff. She has blond hair and wares a dress I would consider a little too inappropriate for school, but when you're rich you can do whatever you want. She is your typical popular girl, all caked with makeup and looking like a Barbie. I stand up and get my things from her.