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vampyre. Danny?”
    This is like third grade stuff. What a waste of time. “They can’t. The only way to be a vampyre is through genetics. If your parents are vamps.”
    â€œAbsolutely correct. Next question, three: a human can sexually transmit HIV to a vampyre, true or false. Sydney?”
    â€œFalse. Vamps are immune to all human diseases.”
    â€œCorrect. Next: if a male vampyre mates with a human female, she can become pregnant, true or false? Tomas?”
    â€œIf he’s stupid and doesn’t use protection, sure. But if he’s smart, he’ll deny it’s his.”
    Not so many people laugh. We’ve heard all his jokes before, and we just want the period to end.
    â€œThat’s very honorable, Tomas. Now, moving on: if a female vampyre mates with a male wulf—”
    â€œEww,” Tiffany Welsh says, loudly enough to make sure everyone hears her.
    â€œTiffany…”
    â€œNo, seriously, Ms. Vaughn. Why would a vamp girl do it with a howler?”
    â€œHow about, like, really low self-esteem?” Elyse says.
    A bunch of the girls laugh. The vamp boys look at each other and grin smugly.
    Ms. Vaughn folds her arms over her chest, making herself look smaller, which she does whenever she gets uncomfortable. “First of all, let’s start with you not using derogatory terms.”
    â€œSo we can’t say face-case or moondog or crumpskull or lunabitch, either?” Tomas asks.
    â€œIt’s not like there’re any wulves in here anyway. The only one in this class is Craig Lewczyk, and he’s still out sick.”
    I keep my mouth shut.
    â€œRegardless,” Ms. Vaughn says, “I don’t want those kinds of expressions used here.”
    â€œSor-reee,” Tiffany says. “But seriously, why would any self-respecting vamp girl want to have sexual relations with a lycanthrope?”
    She is so obnoxious.
    Vocabulary quiz from Constance, eighth grade: Natatorium. Nobody knew; she told us it was an indoor swimming pool building.
    I hate the smell of chlorine. And I hate this heavy, humid air. Faded Millbrook High School Champion banners hang from the ceiling; we don’t have our own team name because we’re technically part of Millbrook.
    â€œWhat’s the point of making it mandatory to go to ten school events if we don’t want to be here?” I ask Claire.
    â€œTo keep attendance up, I guess.”
    â€œNothing like fake school spirit, huh?”
    â€œStop your whining. It’ll be over soon. At least it’s Friday.”
    It is Friday. Which means tomorrow night is my date—or hangout or whatever it is—with Juliet Walker. Emphasis on whatever it is .
    â€œWhat if I’m reading her wrong?” I ask Claire.
    She tilts her head back and turns her eyes to the ceiling. “Please, not again.”
    â€œI trust your opinion.”
    She looks at me, a half-smile on her face. “That’s the best you can come up with?”
    â€œIt’s true.” There’s the eardrum-piercing shriek of a whistle, followed by a splash as the swimmers hit the water. My ears are ringing from the whistle, which is amplified by the tile and the high ceiling. “Seriously. I need to know if she likes me, and I trust you.”
    Claire turns back to the pool. “First, you’re making me sick, so don’t bother trying to act all sincere with me. You’re not good at it. Second, you’re asking the wrong girl. I don’t have a whole lot of experience with…relationships, or whatever. As you know.”
    I look back down the pool, watching the girls slice through the water. Gunther’s current girlfriend, Alana Gibson, is swimming in practically every race. Gunther and his crew are a few rows in front of us.
    There’s a pack of wulf kids sitting at the very end of the bleachers, near the starting blocks. There’s at least five yards between them and everyone else.