Michael is living in a motel while attending his senior year; Fisk is not going to be friends with the rich boy in his classes; Kathrine struggles to come to terms with her sexual orientation; Judith gets into trouble for fighting the social system; and Rosamund is just so pretty it's like a disability. Oh, and there's the school play.

There were rich, gifted kids and there were the poor kids whose line had died out. They stuck together, in two noticeably separate groups. It'd been about fifty years since the schools were forced to mix because of equal rights groups. Not much had changed between the two social classes otherwise.

One of the most influential families in the school was the Sevenson family; Aaron Sevenson hadn't been born particularly wealthy, but he'd clawed his way to the top. His daughter, Kathryn, was possibly the most sought-after girl in the school, despite her mousy hair, a gangly form, and crooked glasses. She was extremely Gifted and clever, but not particularly pretty. Her brothers had all graduated, with the exception of the youngest Sevenson brother, Michael. Michael was reasonably good looking and even Gifted, but the Gift was passed on through the second X chromosome, and he didn't get on very well with anyone else. He was rather shy and too opinionated for most of the other rich people.

Probably the least liked and poorest family in the school was the Fisk family—the oldest of the girls, Anna, was dating an college sophomore named Max, who wasn't Gifted, but did have a good deal more money than the Fisks. Then there was Judith, who was sarcastic and tough, but almost never seen apart from the youngest daughter. Lizzy was a freshman, pretty and friendly and maybe a bit too likeable. And then there was Nonny. Nonny, short for Nonopherian, was the only boy. He refused to answer to anything but Fisk after 5th year.

Fisk was not well liked. His only defence against the rest of the world was a tough attitude and his ability to con his way out of nearly anything. That wasn't to say he was unintelligent, naturally; actually, he was probably smarter than 90% of the school's population. He was in all advanced classes and read classical literature in his free time. He was reasonably attractive as well; the sort that mothers prayed would come home with their daughters and daughters only went out with to make the boys they actually wanted to date jealous. Not that Fisk had really dated anyone—he'd gone to a dance with Lucy in seventh year, and there had been Jack in freshman year, but neither could really be considered relationship material.

So the fact that Mrs Cecil put Michael and Fisk next to one another in her homeroom AP Psychology class was either pure genius or absolute insanity—though the fact that they had perfectly matching schedules is purely a cosmic sense of humour.

"Ooh," Judith said as she looked over Fisk's shoulder at the Facebook page. "Michael Sevenson 'wants to know who has a class with him'. Can't imagine who else would be taking AP Psych, AP English, Theatre, AP Calculus, AP Physics, and AP Government… Really, Nonny? Theatre?"

"It helps with cons," He yawned.

Anna thwacked him over the head as she walked by. "Fisk, if you put 'con artist' on your papers again this year, I will not talk to the guidance councillors about your unusual sense of humour again."

"It helps if you don't say that every single year," Judith pointed out.

Lizzy giggled and ducked her head.

Quite the different scene was going on in the Sevenson household.

"When did you enrol in Theatre?" Aaron demanded.

Michael met his gaze unflinchingly, to his credit. "After you signed it, I went back and erased my elective choice. I decided shop class was superfluous, given that I already know how to take care of Chant, and that's the only care I'll ever need."

"Only twinks take theatre," His mother said.

"Benny took theatre!" Michael protested.

"Benny wears sweater vests," She sniffed, as though that were the deciding factor of sexual orientation. "We gave up on getting grandchildren from him long ago."

There was a quiet throat clearing from the doorway. "Benny is metrosexual, which means he cares about fashion but still likes girls. And homosexuals can adopt children. Additionally, extra-curricular activities don't determine one's sexual orientation."

"All these fancy new words," Aaron said. "There's straight and there's gay, and that's that."

Kathryn opened her mouth, then closed it and bit her lip. If tears were welling up behind the glasses, her father didn't notice. He was already regarding his youngest son with a fierce stare once again. "I want you to drop out and take something useful. You're not becoming an actor, Michael. There's no point taking this class," He said.

"I could," Michael argued. "I can be anything I choose."

"Did I stutter?" Aaron hissed.

"No, sir."

"Then—"

"But I refuse," Michael continued calmly. "I have taken every class required for my advanced diploma, and I got into Harvard. Now I want to take a class I'll enjoy."

"You're still living under my roof—you will do as I say."

Their gazes locked for a moment, and then Michael stood up and walked away.

"I am not done speaking to you!"

"Oh, but I am."

Aaron had a moment of silent outrage, and then stormed after his son with Lisabeth on his heels.

"Please don't fight," Kathryn says to the empty sitting room.

"You're Kathryn Sevenson," Someone said from behind her.

Kathy closed her locker to see Judith Fisk leaning against the locker beside hers. "Yeah. Judith, right?"

"Your brother and my brother are in all the same classes."

"Yeah," Kathy said.

"I'm in their Theatre class. Hacked the roll sheet, and surprise-surprise, there's your name."

"You can hack?" She said, eyes wide. Then she shook her head. "Um, yeah. My dad was being really mean about Michael taking the class, so I decided to take it with him."

Judith's eyes narrowed. "A lot of non-Gifted people think that nothing ever goes wrong in Gifted families—propaganda and all."

"A lot Gifted people pretend that's the case," Kathy allowed.

The other girl grinned, somewhere between shark and Cheshire Cat. "See you around, Sevenson."

"Fisk, Sevenson," Mrs Cecil said.

Fisk froze as Michael moved to sit down at the desk she'd pointed to. This sick twisted bitch is performing a social experiment on her students, he realised. Fuck.

"What?!" One of the Gifted girls hissed. Fisk shot her a glare as he went to sit down with Michael.

"Hello," Michael said politely. "I'm Michael," He held out a hand, which Fisk ignored. Personally, he reckoned it was showing remarkable restraint to not say well duh to the introduction. "Uh… You're a junior, right? You must be in really advanced classes to match my schedule so exactly. Guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other this year."

"Believe it or not, normal people can be smart too," Fisk snapped.

Michael stared at him, something akin to anger flashing just below the surface for one long dragged-on moment. Then, "I know."

Fisk rolled his eyes and opened his book—today was a rather worn copy of The Complete Sherlock Holmes.

"You're reading the introduction?" Michael hissed. "No one reads those!"

You interrupted my reading, Fisk thought violently. Out loud, without looking away from his page, "It's very cleverly written."

Michael fought a grin. "You're rereading the foreword?"

"Okay, um, wow. Look, Sevenson. I read books to avoid idiots like you, 'kay? I'm sure you live in a happy, naïve little world where we can get along, but I'm really not interested in anything but getting out of this bloody school. Understand?"

"I have a book I reread a lot," Michael said. "It's called The Sword in the Stone. Suppose you've read it?"

"Sentimental, overly Christianised crap," Fisk replied calmly, turning the page. "Chaucer is better."

He stared at Fisk. Finally, "I like Poirot better than Holmes."

There was a thud as the book was closed a bit too violently. "You what?" He said lowly. Then he raised his hand. "Mrs Cecil? I can't sit here."

"On what grounds?" She asked, lips twitching. Bitch, Fisk thought again.

"Blasphemy."

"Oh, for—Holmes is the better detective, alright? Happy?"

Fisk glared. "He's also a better person. How could you ever like Poirot better?"

"Holmes is very rude."

"Hang on—have you read this?" Fisk demanded. "Have you read a single story?"

"No, but I've seen the movies."

"Yeah, well, my sisters watched Merlin—does that mean they can judge T H White?"

Both were distracted by Mrs Cecil, who was definitely smirking as she passed out papers. "Well, boys, I guess you'll have to agree to disagree."

Fisk took a paper and swore inventively.

ALL SEATS ARE PERMANENT. STUDENTS WILL BE PARTNERED WITH THEIR TABLEMATE FOR THE REMAINDER OF THE SCHOOL YEAR.

Michael started laughing. Fisk's forehead hit his book with a thunk.

Kathy caught up to Michael in the courtyard on his way to study hall. "Here," She said as she thrust a duffle into his arms.

"What?" He asked, looking in confusion at the bag.

"More clothing, some extra cash, and your favourite books—I know it's not ideal, but might as well have your things. I got Benny to buy you a phone—it's cheap, but it'll work. I'll save the number under 'Abby' or some other innocuous name."

"I'm so sorry to leave you alone," Michael said. "I swear, the moment you're sixteen, we'll get you declared an adult and you can move in with me and I'll get another job so we can get a condo or—"

"You're rambling," She pointed out.

"I'm serious."

"I've got Rose. She's daft, but I won't be alone."

Michael hugged her briefly and then hurried to make his class before the bell rang.