The last time I wrote, I asked a question, so I hope you were paying attention out there in cyberland or wherever.

What’s the right way to fight back? With cold, calculated strategy? Or with swift precision designed to strike at the very heart of your enemy? Or simply with broad, powerful blunt force?

So I stood there, hands wrapped, doing my best Ralph Macchio impression. I looked kinda hot I think. I wonder if he did too? “So, my old nemesis, we meet again.”

“I don’t know if nemesis is the right word here.”

We were in the school gym. And I have been told to tell you, by her, that I must point out, that burning down gyms at anytime is wrong, and should never, ever be attempted unless there is vast amounts of asbestos.

Honestly. I don’t understand valley-girl speak.

Devon was grinning, watching my every move as I prepared, punching away. I could hear Katie talking then. Sometimes I wish it was just us, but she was helping us out, big time. “I admit,” he said, proud. “He’s still got room for improvement.”

“Well sure. He’s only been at this, what, a couple of days or so?” I heard Devon say it had been a week, but I was so busy listening in that the punch bag swung back and rattled the upside of my head. Served me right, honestly. Should have been paying attention to the bag instead of the boy.

Who didn’t even notice I noticed. Just carried on. See? They figured I could handle it? No biggie. I was getting there.

“Billy’s taking on so much responsibility just because it’s the right thing to do. We need more people like him in the world.” As I heard him say it, I could feel my cheeks flushing again. I look around, making sure I didn’t look straight at him. Too busy listening in.

“The guys I hang out with are all about appearances and posturing. Billy doesn’t care about that stuff. He’s honest. He tells you what’s up. I like that about him.”

I caught him smiling. Heard Katie’s head pop like a light bulb. “You like Billy, don’t you?” she realised, as if it hadn’t been totally obvs. I finally had enough of beating the bag and slammed it onto the nearest surface. I will admit, the added knife sticking through it was an afterthought. My bad. Devon told me, slightly seriously, that I needed to find a better way of training, considering how many bags I’d already gone through. I told him I was running out of knives, so we were kinda even. We all have to make sacrifices.

That’s the thing, see? When you choose to fight back, will you rush in, placing value on speed, or will you take the time to get to know your enemy first?

I mean, how much prep have you done? Think before you pack your stake or your sword tonight, before you go on patrol or after you’ve come in, straight after. What could have gone better? What slip did you make?

Devon and I had done the work. We’d watched the boarded up video place on the outskirts of town, pretty sure that that’s where the zompires were. That was the night.

We were crouched behind a red car, mostly out of sight. You wouldn’t have known we were there unless you were with us. Stealthy-like ninja. Devon warned me before going anywhere near the place what the plan was and that I should stick to it.

“Listen,” he told me, his voice whispering in my ear, which sent goosebumps down my spine, making me shiver. “We’re just here for a quick look. We get the intel we need, we take off. Okay? These zompires have been seen all over town, but every night they stumble off in the direction of this strip mall.”

I nodded at him. No unnecessary risks. I repeated it back to him, word-for-word. “Got it. Quick look, run like bunnies, don’t get eaten. Sold.” I remember laughing then, needing to release the tension. I compared us to teenage detectives, and Devon jumped in, “Like The Hardy Boys!” I agreed it was so perfect, because Devon was totally Frank, who was the hot one. Just as he’s telling me that I’m wrong and Joe was the one to make him swoon, I noticed something he didn’t and grabbed a hold of his jacket as quick as I could. “Get down!” I yelled, as quietly as one could yell. I spotted a zompire racing towards the video store. It was then we realised, in a very, not-comforting way, that this wasn’t just a zompire lair. This was a full blown nest.

As Devon started changing his mind, counting up, he figured there was about twenty in there all in. I figured, right that second, that there was maybe, one extra, like the one about to gnaw on my leg! I didn’t yell. Me, being the dork that I am, started talking to it!

I think it was Ms. Fletcher from the laundromat.

“Hello, ma’am,” I enquired, not expecting much of a reply. I got a slight tilt of her head. Looking back at it now, it was at that moment that I saw her teeth, and remember thinking how white they were. “I don’t want you to take this personally, but I am going to have to plunge a wooden stake into your chest. It may hurt.”

Before I could come up with another sure-fire way to almost get killed, the zomp exploded into dust and Devon helped me to my feet. I could’ve done that, I told him.

His smile faded for a moment. “Rule number one, always keep a stake in your hand. Second, no, you couldn’t have, because you’re not done fighting yet.”

“What? Why not?” I had genuinely thought that was all we were going to do that night. I slouched down back to the side of the car, admitting to myself inside that I was tired. When was the last time I slept? Or ate? Or watched the TV? But this was too important.

“We’re here. We know they’re amassing numbers, likely in prep for some kind of event which will probably not be good,” I said, but he distracted me with that goofy grin. Yet again. “And now there’s smiling. Why is there smiling?”

I stopped for a moment, looked around. “Is this a nervous laughter-in-the-face-of-a-danger smile or..?” He reached out and took me by my shoulders. “I’m smiling because I’m impressed by your moxie.”

But then he looked at me, more seriously, straight into my eyes. That electricity spark between us flared again. “But, you’re not ready to fight.”

“It’s my job as your Watcher to determine when you’re ready to walk into a fight and when it’s better for you to take your intel, withdraw and formulate a plan to come back.”

“So I’ll have a better shot at winning?” I quipped. “No,” he said, holding my arms tighter, protectively. “So you’ll have a better shot at decimating their zompire asses.”

An hour later, we were in my room, me giddy like a school girl again, excitement bouncing off me. Honestly, despite the danger, the adrenaline, man, you’ve never felt a thing like it. Knowing that anything could happen? It feels like… well, I couldn’t find words then and I can’t find words now. Make up your own mind. Devon called it ‘the thumpity thumps’.

“You know, Billy? That feeling when something amazing is happening and you can feel the blood rushing through your veins and the world goes quiet, and you’re breathing and all you can hear is the sound of your heart beating, going all…” I handed him my stuffed purple puppy. “Thumpity-thump,” I laughed. “I know.”

It was a rush, I assured him. Getting ready to do something important. Be someone important. And in a few days, hopefully, he told me, we could be ready to go back. A little planning, a bit more training. Then I’d be ready.

Dammit, Devon, sometimes you made it sound so easy and cool.

He came closer to me at that point, both of us talking over each other at ninety miles per hour. He’d mentioned something about wanting to talk to me about something, and I had a feeling I knew it was more training techniques, but the noise coming from the tube distracted me.

The reporter on the local news had mentioned Santa Rosita, the town we were living in. They said that a group of feral vampires had taken people hostage at the public library.

Nana Sky was in there.

As the news showed images from the scene, I frantically strained to see her, checking the backgrounds, every little image for the smallest trace of Nana. The reporter on the news said they hadn’t had time to watch the footage, so it could be disturbing and, on the screen, right there, was a zompire, leaping across a table in the library, tearing a chunk out of Mr. Delaney’s throat. On live TV!

The reporter went quiet, and I felt Devon touch my arm. “Maybe she got out.”

The reporter started up again, mentioning that the attack was at random. I maintained my strength in front of him, pretended anger was all I felt, when I was shaking inside. I don’t think he saw my leg twitch consistently. I didn’t even ask if he had a plan. I turned the screen off and asked him, point blank with no hesitation: “When do we go?” He looked at me in shock. We weren’t going to the library! We were going to the police!

That’s what the brave Watcher that had trained me told me. “The police?” I yelled. Twice. “The police don’t know how to deal with zompires!” But he insisted that neither did I, not yet. I couldn’t stop them or beat them right in that moment.

And he was right. He didn’t want it to be true anymore than I did, but he was right. I would get myself killed if I walked in there, and he was absolutely correct in that.

But it stung. What was the point then? We had been training for over two weeks, prepared, staked out, boxed, kicked, punched and slid our way out of danger and now he had no faith in me whatsoever? Screw him, screw his plan.

Nana Sky was the only person in the world who ever cared about me. I was not going to let her down. I was going, with or without the stupid boy. I slammed the door on my way out. I’m glad I didn’t see his face.

I ran to the library. Don’t know how long it took. Didn’t stop. Didn’t even see. I just ran. And when I got there, I stared at the building as if it was mapping itself out in front of me. All I had to do was get around the authorities that had gathered outside.

Stealthy-like ninja, remember?

The thing is, no matter how you choose to fight back, sometimes, even with all the choices before you, it might feel as if you have no choice at all. As though there is only one path. But even when your options are limited, it doesn’t make your choice to act any less brave.

I wandered around, through the parked cars, keeping away from the cops. They had the front and the back of the place covered completely, to their credit. But what they didn’t know was, if you grow up in a place like Santa Rosita and spend every summer avoiding school bullies, you find all the little short cuts and ways to escape. And when you find them, you make sure no one else finds them.

Remember that. It may save your life one day.

I knew another way into the library. All I had to do was move a few bricks and I’d be home free. As I started to remove the second brick, a hand tapped me on my shoulder and told me to stop.

It was Devon. I breathed deeply, not realising until that moment how scared I’d been that he wouldn’t show. He noticed me talking to myself, and wondered if I was developing a nervous tick or something, but I told him that he couldn’t have heard me nervous – I had moxie after all.

He started to pick up one of the bricks as I asked him why he was there, even though I was secretly delighted. He laughed at me. Told me he could see my moxie in the way I slammed the door. Ouch. But then he told me that he didn’t want me out here alone.

Well, actually, he didn’t want me out there, full stop. He told me that he thought it was because I wasn’t trained, but he’d realised that was an excuse.

“I like you, Billy. I think I’ve liked you for a while. And I didn’t want to lose you.”

I was too stunned at that moment to know what the heck to say. I managed to say something that sounded like ‘You like me?’ and nearly fainted in shock there and then! Zompires, no problem. Actual-requited schoolyard crush? Brings me down! When does THAT happen?

He turned away from me, as one does when you’re petrified of rejection. I’d done it enough times, but now he’d turned away from me. It was a good thing too, because by this point I was on the ground, sniggering away to myself. Getting louder every second as he stood there, his back to me, me ‘watching his back’ as he tells me that he wants to do everything he can to keep me safe. I barely noticed when he turned to look at me, looking rather upset in that moment.

“I didn’t expect laughter. I can’t lie. This is disconcerting.” I tried to stop laughing and giggling. Explained to him that he was being preposterous – he was the coolest kid in school and I was, what? Pretty Billy?

I got up and sat down next to the wall. “You’re the smartest guy in school,” he told me. He has a thing for nerds.

“And you volunteered to be my Watcher? The person who trains me to go into dangerous situations?”

“Well, okay, when you put it like that. I mean, heh, no, I guess it wasn’t the best plan ever.”

At that, we both started cackling into the night, completely forgetting why we were there. Wiping the laughing tears from his eyes, he took my hand in his. Told me he didn’t want me to be hurt. He knew he couldn’t stop me from going in, but was not about to let me go in on my own either.

I looked at him, the sweetest guy in the world. Told him he didn’t have to do this, but he insisted.

After removing the rest of the bricks, I found our way to where I knew we’d come out: the ducts behind the library, straight into a quiet room just off the non-fiction section. He followed my lead, assured me that we’d talk about us later, when we’d stormed a hostage situation, taken down a bunch of bloodsucking zompires and saved my Nana. All without getting killed. And then we could work out what we meant to each other.

We got in easily enough, but Nana’s hiding place was in the other quiet room – opposite the main atrium. Which was where all the zompires were. Great.

Devon looked completely bummed at this point, out of options. But we had another way: I told him how I spent a lot of time in the library as a nerd. There was a staircase, off the side of the atrium, that was connected to another by a long walkway the length of the room. Above the zompires. We were looking at climbing the stairs without being noticed by creatures who can sense movement. But we could then cross the walkway, find our way down and into the room where Nana was hiding. Simple.

Assuming, of course, that zompires don’t look up.

I got cocky, I’ll admit, showing off slightly, the hormones going to my head and I opened the door to the quiet room, straight into the path of a zompire in a letterman jacket! He knocked me to the floor as he passed and Devon yelled my name as the zombie picked me up and slammed me into the wall. I was convinced I was done for, and yelled to Devon, but the damn zompire knocked my stake out of my hand!

As the zompire went to bite me, he went poof. Devon smiled at me, reminded me to always carry a spare. I looked around at the other zompires, at least thirty of them, all looking at us like we were fresh out of the oven. It was running time!

We raced up the first staircase. I told Devon as we ran across the walkway that it was my job to fight and he had to save Nana Sky. He didn’t complain. As we reached the top of the second stair case, I made my move.

I kissed him, straight on the lips. Took him completely by surprise. Hell, took me completely by surprise too! But it was worth it just to see the look of shock and awe in his eyes. Consider it inspiration, I told him as I raced down the stairs, stake in hand.

One.

Two.

I could see Devon break open the door to where Nana Sky was. Three. Then there was another two, making five. And they’d cornered me. There was a sixth behind Devon and I yelled his name.

He turned just in time to see the zompire, but not enough to move. I felt a surge of panic go through my entire torso. Three dead. Four. Five went dusty as I raced to his side. The sixth vampire was the only one between me and Devon now. He reached him, just before I did. I felt the stake hit something, and then there was nothing between us but air.

Devon wrapped his arms around me and I exhaled. I don’t know how long I had been holding my breath. Nana Sky recognised me as she looked up and called me over. I hugged her, hugged him and grabbed them all into a bear hug.

The right way to fight back it seems, according to her, is to remember that you’re not alone. Even when it seems you are.

Now, we’re standing on a roof top with HER. Buffy Summers, the one and only, is with us, along with Robert Dowling, head of the Supernatural Squad of Police in San Francisco. The cop welcomes us to the team. I smile at him. And then I look at Devon. “Which means, we’re not alone, either.”

Buffy smiles at me, her hair blowing in the wind of the city at night. “No, you’re not. Billy?” she asks, turning to me. “You ready for your first patrol?” Devon puts his arms around me. I like feeling protected. “He’s ready,” he tells Buffy. “But get him back home safe. It isn’t just the world that needs him.”

He goes to pull away, but I linger enough for him to ask me if I’m okay.

“This city,” I tell him, looking around the bright lights, hearing the distant music on the breeze. “It’s like a beacon for people like us. You and me. People who thought we’d never find a place to belong. Still hard to believe. We’re where we’re supposed to be, doing what we should be doing.”

He smiles that smile at me. I almost call it a night, melt into that embrace. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Now it’s Buffy’s turn to grin. “Yes, it does. And just so you know,” she says, flicking her totally awesome blonde hair back over her face, “You belong.”

And with that, patrol begins.

The end.

Heh. For now. Be seeing ya!