“No, I do not sparkle in the sun,” Damian hisses, glaring at you. It’s useless. No matter how much he obviously despises your presence, you keep hanging around him. “Nor am I five-hundred-years-old and pretending to be student.”

You’re his classmate—his insufferable classmate—with far too much cheer. You weren’t supposed to find out he’s a dhampir, but you have. Instead of being afraid, you started babbling about some book series. Twilight? He’s never heard of it.