LADY LUCK.
The room smells good, I notice. It's my first day being able to actually take in this room…my room. The boy's dormitory is surprisingly…large. I thought for a school for mutants the place would be small and maybe even kind of ratty. But it's a mansion. A mansion for me; a mansion for mutants. I'm a mutant.
God, I hated that word.
I learned about mutations in biology class years ago. Mutations meant a change in the DNA…for the worst. An uncontrollable, unpredictable alteration synonymous with diseases and people with problems. Why the fuck does everyone think being a mutant is a problem? Or for the worse? What's that about? If society didn't treat us like they did, plotting our doom behind their steely government walls or taking unapproachably passionate stances in school "debates", would our lives be all for the worse? That can't honestly be true. If we started all over again and the first mutant could increase vegetation…and he used it to end world hunger. Now would we be so hated? We'd be hated. But not so hated. We'd be despised because of our power, our all-encompassing godlike abilities. But hating like that is playerhating.
And if you have playerhaters, you're doing something right.
If we…if we what? Went back in time? I roll over underneath my covers; flat on my back.
That's possible, right?
To go back in time? For a mutant, I mean.
I wonder if those who had that ability tried it? I wonder if a self-loathing "mutant" went back in time and tried to stop everything.
I doubt it.
Time travel is so fucking dangerous...Galia had wanted to try and looked what happened to her, I reminded myself. Think, think, think. Don't be stupid. They'll come for you too.
My mouth is trembling a little and I turn back over to my side. My roommate, Santo Vaccarro had only shown up hours ago. He had registered late, but judging by all the people I've seen walk in and out of the front gates today, that's not exactly unusual around here. I was on my bed reading Rolling Stones and he just comes in, flops on the bed and is out just like that. No "hi", no nothin. I guess normal people would be afraid, but whatever he can do can't be as bad as mine. I turned back to the article on Billy Joel, but couldn't regain the same focus. Santo started to snore just as I closed the magazine and I knew there was no going back to reading in here anytime soon. I wrestled the covers from its tucked place under the mattress, being careful not to accidentally yank my gloves off in the process. The last thing I needed was to mess up their bed. And then I went to sleep and dreamed of when Galia dragged me to Coney Island and forced me to buy her cotton candy with that Cheshire cat smile on her face. That wasn't the worst part. The worst part was not being able to eat it with her, lying to her face and telling her I was full. I wanted to suck the sugar off her mouth and wrap my arms around her shoulder like she was my girl. And in the dream, I did. The dream was no longer a memory…now a deep fantasy.
Right when I was certain the first kiss wasn't enough, that I needed more of her…I woke up.
Galia…gone forever…slipped through my fingers.
Fuck everything. Fuck this mutant shit and all that comes with it. I notice I'm sweating and throw the covers off, fury so evident in my movements. I scare myself with this. I calm down. I'm not the evil mutant anymore. I am Kevin. Simple Kevin Ford with his simple, Kevin-like ways. Almost instantly I am back to normal, not genetically different in any way. I am trick-or-treating like every other kid in my neighborhood. I am eating everything I see. I am mouthing Green Day lyrics as I sit in my desk and burn holes into the clock with my eyes, wanting the schoolday to be over. Nothing different. I'm not the psycho kid who killed his dad. I'm not the monster who got kicked out of school. I'm myself…the lie I grew up as. Kevin Ford, the normal kid.
It's kind of sick really. How mutation is sparked by puberty.
Because by then, reality is the nightmare and the life you lived was a dream.
My grandfather used to say Lady Luck was smiling down on me, wanted to give me good things in life. He stuck to that too…even on his deathbed, with criminal me as his only family left…he stuck to believing it was all gonna work out. Maybe that's why everyone loved grandpa so much. He was so optimistic it literally made you nauseated. But the truth was_ and I could never bring myself to say it aloud because what if grandpa heard me in heaven_that grandpa was wrong. He was wrong and I was wrong for continuing to consume his lies, even when paint would disappear off the walls in my sleep and even when I ruined Mick's birthday gift by "grabbing it too hard."
I thought maybe Lady Luck was just having some fun with me, just fucking with my paranoia. But now I know.
Lady Luck is a bitch and she wants us all to fail.
…That's why Galia's gone.
THE PLANETS.
The day is full of unfulfilled promises. The leaves are slightly blowing. The air around here is crisp and cutthroat. Absolutely nothing like San Diego. I can feel my mind wander as I prepare for the first day of school. It's so odd and somehow unappealing. Eight months on the streets and the education system is the farthest thing from your mind. The future isn't, of course…but never before have these two topics, usually lovers, felt so far apart and unrelated to each other. My entire life used to be based off of my GPA. Now it's based off of what I've survived and the friends I've lost. It's a testimony to the games I played and the games I'll continue to play as long as I'm on the move like this.
Since when do I want to start settling down?
Since never…since now.
The voice inside my head can't any more raw than that.
I miss Chase. I noticed this minutely last night. We used to sleep next to each other in the hideout…in sleeping bags of course. We would just stare at the ceiling and talk about the planets. He liked planets a lot. The conversations always stayed the same, but the gestures and tones and hopes riveting through our voices…they always seems to change. What planet we talked about usually depended on how we were feeling. Or most times, what Chase was feeling. Because I enjoyed biology more than anything and I couldn't get into it enough to give a personal opinion. But I did like Saturn…just because it had a ring. Chase picked up on that early enough and whenever he wasn't spewing off facts about Mars to hide his frustration at Molly, or discussing why Pluto was no longer a planet to cover up his forlorn for his parents, Saturn was always the best subject.
But now he's not here. He's in the boy's dorm room.
I wonder if this was a good decision.
Coming to this school.
Were we really safe?
"No." Or, at least, that was the answer of Bobby Soul, some kid and his mute little brother that I had met in the line for class schedules.
"But would you rather be not safe here…or not safe on the streets?"
Damn. That just hit home. I thought about it for the rest of the day. This place was spacious; it was stocked with food, medical equipment, and knowledgeable people. It was better than the place I had back home, or, whatever the hell I had had back home.
And now I was going back to high school and aiming toward a diploma. It feels weird, coming back to school. I hated school when I was there. It was just a whole bunch of unintelligent, superficial nincompoops running around, stealing, and vandalizing. There was nothing even slightly fun about the experience, contrary to popular belief. They say in college, you learn how to become an adult, but that's a load of bullshit. You're molded into who you are in high school, make or break.
My senses whirl to life as I notice the alarm clock in the corner of the room go off, the one next to my roommate's bed. Callie. I had no fucking idea what she could do, but as she turned the alarm clock on snooze and covered her bedhead with lime green sheets, I wondered if she knew I was awake.
A snore came from her direction. Probably not.
I want to go back to bed, honest I do…but it's really no use. I slip my feet from my baggie socks, entangled in the edge rumpled sheets below me. My feet are stung by the cold as I put them on the ground. I might as well take advantage of an empty shower.
My clothes are already on the edge of my own dresser, beckoning me to begin the day. I grab a bright blue washcloth and matching towel from the small closet next to my bed. I turn around to eye my roommates one last time. They're too caught up in their dreams.
My finger hits the switch, bringing the lights to life.
Callie shifts a little underneath her covers. Did I wake her?
Bright yellow energy spills from the doorway, illuminating the dark bedroom.
Callie murmurs a little…goes back to sleep.
I look down at my bare toes before closing the door on them.
No takers?
Callie snores again.
No takers.
