The school looks old, even though it's only been around for maybe five years, and even that's stretching it a bit.

Destructive kids do that.

I jump out, practically running into the school in an attempt to avoid as many people as possible.

Nobody even glances my way as I jump over some bushes, heading around to the back of this poor, sad building. I lean against the building, pulling out a map of the school to check all the lines and numbers I'd scribbled to keep track of where I go now.

. . . Oh. Garfakcy's class first. I mean, Mr. Ash.

Stupid name to pick, if you ask me. If anybody else had been in on that project, they would surely be able to process the implications.

No idea what the chicks dig about that little midget, but it gets them to pay attention. He has a higher percentage of people graduating than the other science teachers. It keeps him in the school, but he'd probably be able to stay even if only one student a year passed his class, considering who his teacher is and considering who his teacher is to the principal.

It's a conspiracy, and, I swear to you this, that is not just my paranoid imaginings.

I sigh.

I look up, watching the clouds roll past. It's nice sometimes to just sit back, relax, and watch the perspiration in the sky. . . .

Heh. That's one big horse.

DR-DR-DR-DR-DR-DR-DRING

I jump up, whacking my head on the windowsill that just happens to be above me.

See what I mean about a conspiracy?

Garfakcy glances around the room. His eyes meet mine before continuing his search, but he's already found what he was looking for. Me.

. . . Well, okay, he might actually be looking at every face in the class, but I don't believe it.

Thatz, a few chairs behind me, is snoring softly, eyes hidden by his green hair.

Garfakcy throws an eraser at him.

"Huh? Wha?"

Bierrez sits in the front row, twirling his pencil and acting bored. He sticks the pencil on his nose and tilts his head up.

. . . Yep, bored.

Gil is sitting on my left side, not out of wanting to talk to me, but because he wants to ask me something, which, I suppose could count as talking, but it's not like I'm going to really answer. Maybe edge around the subject.

"That cat at the breakfast table, with the reddish hair, what's his name?"

His . . . name?

Well, I suppose I couldn't call that cute little cat 'Fire' all the time. Bad name for a cat, unless I was to burn him for a ritual or something. Hm.

. . . Wait, did I just call a cat cute?

Ew. . . .

Thatz steps up behind Gil (who decides, eventually, that he will not get an answer), looking over his shoulder at a paper Gil is doodling on. ". . . Is that man supposed to have a hand coming out of his mouth?"

Gil scowls, flipping his pencil over and erasing furiously.

Then the final bell rings and everyone is in class.

I glance around.

Not that many people, really. A couple girls, a couple guys, Garfakcy, who's a little of both. . . .

Yes, Kharl has a weird sense if humor.

I can feel it all throughout the lesson. Garfakcy watches my every move, judging the class based on my acts.

I know this because he doesn't throw an eraser at Thatz again.

The next class is English, which I like marginally better. Fedelta is sort-of odd, but just because he likes fire way to much and nearly burned down a classroom last year doesn't mean Garfakcy has anything on him.

Besides, he's more like me. A closet psycho.

. . . Well, okay, anyone with eyes can tell he's a psycho, but still.

Somehow I made it into honors without trying. Rune's in this class, too. (He was supposed to be the year above, but spent last year at his other school mostly in a coma with his girlfriend.)

Shyrendora teaches us Math, and that's right before lunch.

Well, I don't go crazy in the cafeteria.

Kaistern will be so proud.

I don't know. P.E. is cool, Spanish is boring, and in computers I (somehow) nearly blow up a computer and freak out the teacher at the same time.

Multitasking is fun.

So, anyways, Bierrez and Gil have been staring at Thatz like he's an alien since lunch, and I'm just sort of . . . standing there, watching Kaistern pull up, thinking how wonderful it would be if these boys were the only ones that would pay to live at my house, but no. Last year, after the first day, we got a lot of kids coming to the frecking mansion after school. I don't know why they didn't make an appointment or something, but they didn't. Just showed up, expecting to get a room.

They got a room, of course (Lykouleon is sorely open minded), but it annoyed the heck out of Alfeegi, who had to do all the paper work, including the bills, which were horrendous, mind you. What else could you expect from a house compiled of mostly teenagers?

Another thing I don't understand is why, exactly, they came after the first day of school. Where did they spend the night before? Are these people stupid? I've never heard of anything like it before. Maybe the air does stuff to people. That would explain why we have so many weird people in this city. . . .

Actually, I'm sure the air does stuff to people. Last year something was released into it, but nobody knows quite what it is or who did it. All anybody knows is that it's nontoxic, but will sometimes make people hallucinate.

Shortly after this announcement a girl ran out of school saying a dragon was going to eat her.

Stop staring at me like that. I had nothing to do with it! . . . Well, maybe a little. . . .