4 of a Kind

Rex was late for his homeroom. It seemed to him that he was more late than usual, unlike his friend Jess, whose clock was set ten minutes ahead so she would always be on time. The thought made him smile, then frown. It had been a month since Jess 'disappeared', only to come out during the blue hour. Rex had spent hours in Maddie's attic, reading up on the lore, trying to find something that could help them save her, but nothing was found.

He wasn't watching where he was going and tripped over someone's forgotten book. He groaned and started to stand up. "Need some help?" someone asked. Rex looked up, looking into clear gray eyes. Normally the people had a bit of unfocused, a blur to his eyes. But this girl was different; he could make out her storm gray eyes perfectly. She had the focus on her. He saw her outstretched hand and took it.

"Thanks," he said. He could see her more clearly now that he was standing up. She seemed to be the same age as him. Her long black wavy hair reached just below her shoulders, her straight bangs stopping below her eyebrows. She reminded him of Emily Browning, the girl from that movie he had watched, The Uninvited. Back when he could watch movies that is.

"Your welcome, your school isn't very organized. All your school class numbers are mixed up, only one in three classes are where there supposed to be," she said. Rex mentally cringed at the mention of the number system, but he held his calm.

"Yeah, it turned out to be some sort of senior prank back in the 90's, but no one could remember exactly what went where, so it was just left like that," he explained. The girl smiled. He could sense confusion and something really familiar that he could quite pick.

"So, um, could you tell me where I could find classroom 36?" she asked. Rex nodded and pointed down the hall.

"Go down the hall, and then turn left. Fourth door on the left," he said. She recited the directions making sure she got them right. He nodded.

"Thanks," she said sincerely and walked away. Some how Rex got the feeling that he would be seeing more of her later.

-4-4-4-4-4-4-

Rex finally stumbled into his homeroom, thankfully for him, Mr. Ivanovo wasn't here yet. He walked to his seat, at the back of the class and sat down. He looked around the room, noticing how everyone was still talking about the new kids. Didn't they have anything else to talk about? It suddenly occurred to him, that the girl he saw was one of the new kids. The door squeaked open and he turned to glance at it. It was the same girl from before. Had she gotten lost already? He took a closer look and saw it wasn't her.

This girl looked just like her from afar, but when you looked closer, you could see the difference. Her hair barely even reached her shoulder. It was defiantly straighter than the other girl's, but still had that slight wave to it. It was layered, her bangs reached down to her nose, but they were pulled out of eyes, like curtains once they were drawn. Her gray eyes were bigger than her sister's, light freckles rested her checks. Rex could see the headphones cleverly hidden under her loose hair; he wondered how long it would last till Mr. Ivanovo found them.

Speaking of Mr. Ivanovo, he walked in right behind the girl, bumping into her.

"So sorry, are you alright?" he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder to steady her. Rex saw how she flinched, just like how Melissa used to before she could control her mindcasting. The girl nodded. "You must be the new girl. Right, let's see where there is an empty seat," Mr. Ivanovo said, while scanning the classroom. Rex glanced at the empty seat next to his and sighed. Of course she would be seating there, it was the only place left in the small, confined room. "Ah, there seems to be an opening next to Mr. Greene, there you go," he said, directing her toward my seat. He turned back and headed for his desk, and started writing on the blackboard behind him. "And Ms. Torres, no headphones during class," he said, not even turning to look at her.

She slumped into the seat, taking the headphones of, her bored face never waving. "Rex," he said, introducing himself. She glanced at him, sizing him up.

"Lea," she said, in a bored tone that he knew so well from Dess. She watched him, her eyes narrowing. She just shook her head and faced the board. Rex watched her, narrowing and unnarrowing his eyes. He hadn't noticed how clear her face had looked until now. She had the focus clinging to her too. It could have been that one of them was a midnighter and being together had passed it on.

Through out the first period, he glanced at her, her image always staying the same clear way, never fuzzing. At last the bell that ended the first period rang. Lea jumped out of her seat, slinging her backpack and walked out of the room, slipping her headphones along the way.

-4-4-4-4-4-

Jonathan Martinez sat in his first period class, in the back as usual, listening to the daylighter's gossip about the new kids. He didn't see what was so special about them after all; they were probably just like any other daylighters. Dess had said that the possibility of one of them being a midnighter was something like 1/100.

The door opened to reveal a tall and lean boy. His black shaggy type hair framed his tanned face, his hair falling freely over his gray eyes. Must be the new kid," Jonathan thought. His suspicion was confirmed, when he was surround by a bunch of preppy girls.

"You must be the new kid! I'm Lauren, what's your name?" a short blonde girl said flirty.

"Marcus," he said, quickly avoiding the girl's try to place her hand on his chest. He's got fast reflexes, Jonathan thought. Lauren Shelbey was known through out the school for the boys she caught and discarded. Marcus moved around her and headed for an empty table. He sat down at the preppy guys table, lucky for him they weren't there yet.

Starting to feel bad for the new guy, Jonathan decided to give him some help. Pulling out the always empty chair next to him, he called over to Marcus.

"You shouldn't sit there, prep table," he said. Right on time, the athletes walked through the door, heading right for him. Marcus seemed to understand and quickly got up, his backpack over his shoulder within seconds and walked quickly toward the empty seat.

"Thanks," Marcus said as he sat down.

"No problem," Jonathan said as Marcus shrugging off his black jacket, underneath he wore a simple black long sleeved. In a way, Jonathan thought, it did seem that the guy was in mourning with all the black. Not that Jonathan was one to talk, but at least he was wearing dark blue jeans today. "I'm Jonathan Martinez by the way," introducing himself.

"Marcus Torres," he replied back.

"Towers? Your last name is towers?" he asked. Marcus turned around.

"Yeah. You know Spanish?" he asked. Jonathan nodded.

"Yeah, dad's Hispanic. You?"

"Both parents. My siblings and I were practically raised in the Hispanic heritage, even though we moved from place to place every couple years. They think it keeps us stable" he said easily. Marcus pulled out a granola bar from his backpack. "You want half?" he asked. Jonathan nodded, unable to resist free food. Marcus split the bar in half and handed him part of it. "Never know when you get hungry," Marcus said. Jonathan nodded, they could defiantly get along.

-4-4-4-4-4-

A girl walked in late to class. Her long black hair was over her face and messy, she'd obviously been running in the hall. That's cause only one in every three classes are were they're supposed to be, Dess thought. Poor girl, she must have gotten lost. Mrs. Sachs, their language and homeroom teacher looked up from her roll paper. "You're name?" she asked, clearly irritated.

"Daniela Torres," the new girl said, breathing heavily, trying to compose herself. Mrs. Sachs looked down her paper, raising an eyebrow when she saw her name.

"Right then, now that you've announced yourself, why don't you tell us something about you?" Mrs. Sachs said. The girl's face fell for a fraction of a second, but then resumed its neutral state.

"My family and I come from Denver, Colorado. My father is the owner of the new club opening downtown. He has a franchise of them going up around the states which is why we move around a lot," she said blankly. Mrs. Sachs looked at her, waiting for more, but none came.

"Okay, Daniela you make take a seat next to Desdemona," she told her, her pale finger pointing to the seat next to Dess. Daniela walked towards the seat, making sure her messenger bag didn't knock anyone's stuff. She plopped down in the seat, taking her black twill-shirt type trench-coat off. She was wearing a black three-quarter sleeve shirt with a dark gray dress over it. At first Dess thought she was crazy, it was supposed to get colder by the end of lunch, and then she saw that she was wearing black leggings with gray Uggs. So maybe the girl wasn't so crazy.

"Stupid school, stupidly disorganizing, -thirteen letters, got to remember that-, logical way to number classrooms," Daniela mumbled. Dess looked up when she mumbled thirteen letters, why did she need to know a tridecalogism? Daniela noticed that she was being stared at, and stopped mumbling to herself.

"Desdemona, but you can call me Dess," Dess introduced herself.

"Daniela, but call me Dannie. I'd tell the teacher that, but it's less than a 10% that she'll actually use it," Dannie said. Dess laughed.

"I know, really. Either 5% of that is that they'll just don't use it; the other 5% is that they won't remember."

"Exactly, for once someone that uses more than 20% of their brain capability," Dannie said. They laughed. It felt great that someone else knew how to talk math.

-4-4-4-4-4-

Melissa sat in the back of the classroom, watching the idle people go about their oblivious lives. Their thoughts were all jumbled up, their tastes all the same. She could practically taste the way the new kid was going to be, all nervous and unsecure, untrusting to does who wanted to be their friend.

The door opened, a boy about 5'7" stepped in, oblivious to the wanna-be daylighters. Melissa looked at him, surprised by the way he thought. Of course they weren't as clear and as organized as Rex's, but they were a whole lot better than the average humans.

She looked at him, taking in his appearance. He slouched down in a chair, not taking his slick black jacket off. He ran a hand through his black, unruly, short hair and Melissa could see the cleverly hidden head phones, wireless headphones. His gray eyes were staring off into nothing; they were as blank as his expression.

Suddenly, his eyes flashed to hers. She didn't bother looking away and neither did he. The teacher started taking roll, stopping when he reached a new name. "Alec Torres?" he asked, searching the classroom.

"Here," he called, pulling his gaze away from Melissa's. She sighed, relived. She had felt trapped, caught in a storm by his gray eyes, unable to look away.

"Interesting" she murmured.

-4-4-4-4-

Rex walked into the cafeteria, scanning the tables. Immediately he spotted Melissa, in her usual spot at the usual table. Dess was there too, three chairs away. Even Martinez was there, he was usually late to lunch.

"Forgot how to work a lock again?" Jonathan asked, smirking.

"Shut up," Rex retorted, sitting down next to Melissa. He glanced at the door, the four siblings walking through it. Their images were crystal clear, just like the rest of the midnighters. "Unbelievable," he whispered. Everyone turned to look at him. "They've all got the focus and it's strong," he whispered, low enough not to be heard, but high enough for them to hear him.

"Is it possible that it's a second-hand focus?" Jonathan asked. Melissa shook her head.

"The boy with the black jacket and short hair," Melissa said, pointing him out, "He's a mindcaster."

"So is the girl," Rex added.

"Which one? The girl with the gray and black plaited skirt and leggings or the one with the gray dress and shorter sleeves?" Jonathan asked.

"Defiantly the girl with the skirt. The other girl, the one in the dress, was in my homeroom. Her name's Daniela Torres, but she goes by Dannie. Their father is the owner of the new night club that's opening on Friday," Dess said.

"The other guy in the black longed sleeves, that's Marcus, the oldest. He was in my homeroom and advanced physics."

"The mindcaster boy was in my homeroom. He's name is Alec."

"The mindcaster girl in my homeroom is named Alianna, but she prefers Lea." They stopped talking; the four kids crossed their table and sat in the one behind theirs. Dess leaned back casually stretching, trying to catch what they were saying.

"I can't tell what they're saying," whispered Dess. Jonathan leaned back casually, listening.

"That's because it's in Spanish," he whispered.

"Then translate Flyboy," Dess whispered harshly. Jonathan leaned back and listened.

-Puro aburido hay aqui, - There are only boring people here.

-No todas las personas son asi, Alec- Not everyone is like that, Alec.

-Quien no es? - Who isn't?

- Hay una niña en mi primera clase que parecer ser buena- There's a girl in my first hour class who seems pretty good.

-Es un Daylighter, oh no? - She's a Daylighter, isn't she?

- No ce. - I don't know.

- Shh, nos escuchan- Shh, we're being listened too.

The last one to talk was Lea, her eyes narrowed at the table in front of them. Jonathan sat upright, turning to look at them. Both tables were locked into a staring contest, only that the Bixby Midnighters couldn't look away from the Torres's eyes. They where caught in the middle of the storm, unable to look away from the pairs of deep gray eyes. The time ticked by until finally the bell rang, announcing the end of lunch. The Torres stood up, caring their magically empty lunch trays with them, and breaking the trance.

"Ow, my head hurts," Dess said while rubbing her head.

"Whose eyes were you looking at?" Melissa asked, while rubbing her own head.

"Alec the Mindcaster, I think," she said. "Wait, what are you doing!" she asked, pulling her arm out of Melissa's reach.

"I need to see if he left anything, like a taste. The girl, Lea left a small taste in my mind and I need to see if you have one too."

"No way are you touching me again," Dess said, stomping away. Melissa sighed.

"Stop the pity party, Jonathan," she snapped and walked away.