M O N S T O R Y
I don't need friends. Friends decrease my strength as a person.
ACT I: SCAR STORY
IZZY'S VAMPIRE
This story should start at the beginning, as any proper story would. Really any story that begins at a point apart from the beginning is hardly a story at all. A proper story tells of a chain of events, and any chain of events requires a catalyst. Something to start the ball rolling, knock over the first domino. This particular chain of events begins rather inconspicuously, but that is merely one perspective. From another perspective, the following events would have been incredibly simple to predict, and may be easier to understand. That's what a story is, after all (besides a chain of events): an understanding.
In any case, it was June 15th, a Wednesday. Normally the dead middle of the week, but this Wednesday was special. It was the last day of the school year. The school day had ended, the fanfare subsided, and most everyone had left to begin their summer vacation. Save for one Izzy Caldwell, who wandered the empty hallways somberly. After the hugs and farewells and "see you next year”s, she lingered, pondering whether she considered herself a Junior or a Senior now. She wasn't a part of any clubs, nor was she waiting on anyone. She simply lingered in the halls, running her hand over the rails of the staircases as she ascended and descended them aimlessly. A certain mood possessed her, perhaps equal parts lethargy and nostalgia. She wasn't in any great rush to get a head start on summer, even though there had been no homework assigned to her. With no great plans made, she had nothing really to look forward to besides a few months spent holed up in her room, watching TV or fighting with her brothers. She had no friends to spend time with, either. Some years ago she had decided that friends decreased her strength as a person; they sapped her agency and vitality. She was better off without them.
Despite her disaffection, the janitors hoping to start the afternoon's cleanup were giving her funny looks, and so Izzy took her loitering outside to the school grounds. She walked along the desolate country road that the school resided on, despite her bike being parked in the school lockup. She was taking a walk, she decided. Just something to do, she wasn't a health nut or anything. However, she soon discovered that she was not the only one patrolling the grounds at this late-afternoon hour.
Walking in the opposite direction to her, along the same side of the same road, was Trevor Hansen. Something of a school celebrity, Trevor had been elected as president of Izzy's class all three of their previous years, and was expected to continue into their fourth year. Izzy had never really spoken to him, they never had the same class in the same period together for the previous years, but she knew a bit about him. A pristine sort of person, utterly classy and, well, presidential. His attitude matched his looks, with dark hair parted carefully, a neat white shirt and well-hemmed khaki slacks. Even Izzy, who really didn't take part in any sort of rumors or gossip, had heard of his reputation of good conduct and scholastic achievement, and so one could readily believe such allegations without too much doubt. Izzy had always been fairly smart, and had taken honors classes throughout high school, but was somewhat "left behind" in that regard. Trevor was at the top of their class. They were two very different people, in that respect. Almost forming a dichotomy. For that reason, Izzy took notice of him. Just for a second.
However, as Trevor quite intently answered some message or another on his cell phone, a car had managed to creep up the road behind him. It had rained quite heavily the previous night, as it sometimes did this time of year, and so as the car drove past him it churned up a significant wave of muddy water, which splashed Trevor in an thoroughly unfortunate manner. As his expression of shock became one of disgust, Izzy took notice of something. The water, though muddy, had soaked through Trevor's white shirt and turned it somewhat transparent. Through it, she could see the hard lines of his upper body. Defined pectorals, strong abdominals, a hint of dark chest hair... did he work out? Izzy found herself entranced without realizing it. Perhaps the polite thing to do would have been to look away, but the surprise of someone so seemingly clean-cut possessing anything resembling an attractive side was a shocking thing for Izzy.
She didn't realize how long she had been staring until she heard Trevor laugh. She jumped, now noticing how close the two of them actually were: practically conversational distance. Trevor gave a light, sort of noncommittal laugh, perhaps purely to relieve any tension the situation may have had. How very civil of him... very presidential. Still chuckling, he wiped his glasses off on his dry pant leg, and turned his gaze to Izzy. Had his eyes always been that steely blue color? Interesting.
"I, uh... I guess I'm all wet."