Read NEWBORN: Book One of the Newborn Trilogy for Free Online Page A

thought
stream.
    I look up at him. “Okay what?”
    “I’ll take you to the beach,” Gabriel allows,
watching me closely. “But I have one condition.”
    “Of course you do.”
    “Don’t ask about the Vampass and don’t ask to
see the Vampass. Clear?”
    I nod again in ersatz solemnity. “I
understand, sir.”
    Turquoise eyes glisten. “But you can keep
your cheek.”
    * * *
    Walking to my next class, I check my schedule
on my phone. I have English 103: English Composition, next. The
English class everybody has to take if they plan on graduating.
This class is going to suck compared to Victorian Era
Literature.
    For one thing, I’ll be surrounded by a bunch
of students who don’t want to be there – accounting and computer
majors sighing their day away. For another, I’ll probably have to
read the fucking Great Gatsby again. There’s at least a 98%
chance of that occurring. Screw it – I’ll Wikipedia-plot-summary
the sucker.
    I take a seat in the full classroom, going
out of my way to find a chair in the middle and by a window. I like
being close to windows. Makes me feel like I can breathe better,
even when shut. Students are glancing around with interest, but I’m
not joining in. Only one person has the key to my thoughts.
    Gabriel came out of nowhere back there. How
did he do it? I wanted to ask him but he kept sidetracking me with
his boyish charm. I can’t let that keep happening. If he begins to
think he can control me I’ll be a goner. I must keep up. Must stay
in the race. He can’t win.
    Win what? my alter ego asks with a
giggle. Your heart?
    Shut up, I tell her. Shut up right
now!
    A tall man with a short white beard walks
into the room. He’s nearly bald, unlike Dr. Renaus, and doesn’t
offer the class a smile as he sits behind his desk. “Bonjour,” he
begins, “Je m’appelle Dr. James. Enchante!”
    Startled, I gaze around the room. Am I in the
wrong class? But other students are looking as alarmed as I feel,
and a moment later the professors’ eyes widen and he shakes his
head.
    “Desole! Excusez-moi,” he says. “There’s
always one class where this happens at the beginning of term! I
come back from teaching in France and the first thing I do is start
by making a complete fool of myself. I beg your pardon.”
    Nobody answers. We’re all too relieved we’re
in the right class.
    “My name is Dr. Christopher James,” Dr. James
restarts. “I will be your professor for English 103. This class is
about the basics in grammar and reading comprehension, because if
you don’t have a solid base with those you won’t get very far. The
syllabus is available online – I see no reason to waste paper when
we don’t have to in this modern age. Has anybody read the
syllabus?” Not a sound. “I thought not,” Dr. James says
disapprovingly, “or else some of you are too afraid to speak up.
That will change. You will be contributing to our in-class
discussions if you expect a passing grade. In any case, the first
book we will be reading, comprehending, and then discussing is The Great Gatsby .”
    * * *
    It’s now evening and I realize I have to eat
something. Traipsing back to my dorm, I make a half-hearted stop at
the dining hall. To my surprise I actually make it through the
door. No fish today unfortunately, but there’s pasta, pizza, and
Caesar salad. I bypass all of these and head for the breakfast
section. Here a tiny refrigerator sits on the counter, its contents
a clutter of yogurt and milk.
    Opening the fridge, I grab a raspberry
flavored yogurt. If I can get anything down it will be this.
Grabbing a spoon and some tea from the beverage section, I make my
way to a table by a window. I peel off the top of the yogurt
container and begin to eat, feeling the soft cultures refreshing my
stomach. It’s good. Momentarily, my nausea is at bay. Although how
long that will last I can’t say.
    I’m embarrassed to be eating alone. Looking
around, I see that everybody seems to have a