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Chapter 2

At half five, I decided to make a U-turn and head back home after my run hit the fifteen kilometre mark. Here is the thing though; I hated exercise and would actively avoid it when it was thrusted upon me but I did it to clear my mind of the thoughts that almost had a passive grip on my mind. I don't know what it was but I practically lived in my own mind, finding myself ingrained in deep thoughts that made little cohesive sense. I struggled to keep with the present, but I think school kind of helped me with that. It provided a focus with subjects and it meant I could bury myself in work to shut up my thoughts. That's really why I liked school; not because of friends or even my brothers but because it gave me a chance to escape my otherwise inescapable thoughts. I was doomed when I graduated. Karla, my Mum, had proposed to me to try and find my Soulfinder when I left High School as surely a relationship with steady my otherwise fracturing mind but I frowned at her. How would finding the "perfect" person for the "perfect" relationship help my thoughts and my anxious and depressive mind? Would I not just ruin them, burden them even, with my thoughts? Did she not comprehend this?

Not only that, I'm not too sure Soulfinder's still exist. I mean, my parents are and even my biological parents were but apart from that, no one I know has found their Soulfinder. None of my eight brothers, none of my only biological brother – Michael's – younger brothers have. None of my cousins have and there was a fair few of them too. It just seemed improbable.

I put my key in the front door, unlocking the bolts telekinetically. Cotton ran in front of me, running to her water bowl as I trailed behind, locking the door again.

'Ella,' I heard Saul say behind me and I walked into the kitchen.

'Hello!' I exclaimed, jumping out of my skin.

'Good run? What time were you up this morning?' He asked me as I flicked on the kettle.

'Half three again, didn't get to bed until two. Anything interesting happening?' I asked him as the kettle came to a boil. I looked over Dad's shoulder onto the laptop screen where he was flicking through the Savant Net.

'Just some new applicants we need to approve and some transfers but your Mom and I will need to discuss them when she's up –'

'Transfers? You need to discuss? You can just tell me that you want to put me on the Grey net, you know.' I told him, getting out three mugs from the cabinet above the sink. Saul remained silent as I scooped the teaspoon of coffee from the jar and into the two mugs, and then four teaspoons of coca into my one before pouring the boiling water on top of them.

'I think it'll be best for you, Ella.' Saul said gently, pulling the chair for me to sit down.

'Vick mentioned you wanted to me after you moved him.' I confessed up to him.

'I asked him not to tell you before we talked to you about it,'

'Not my fault big brother is a snitch – why did you want to move me, anyway?' I asked, crossing my legs at the table. I knew the move was inevitable. The Savant net had two different settings on it for people who wanted to join. Most just went into the Net and was the goodies of the Savant world, and would pull together to help each other out. It meant that people higher up in the net, or request the information could see people on this list. The Grey Net was a bit tighter, and people had to be requested to be transferred. It meant you were hidden and even if people wanted the information you cannot be found. Normally only really powerful Savant's were moved in there or when their job could conflict with their Savant status. Vick was moved because of the work in the FBI. I was being moved because I had strong gifts and had the square root of fuck all control over them too. This meant I would end up freezing my tits off for no reason, or realise I was projecting to Australia in the middle of class. That's why they wanted me to move to the grey net – to protect myself if I ever got in trouble.

'You're starting to do more work with the FBI –'

'It is because I have fuck all control, isn't it?'

'I would use that language, Eleanor, but yes.' Saul said, 'But would you mind?'

'If you think it's for the best, I'll sign the paperwork,' I smiled shyly getting up again to finish the coffees. One for Yves, and one for Zed. Yves had a white coffee with one sugar, whilst Zed had it as black as my soul.

'You know, your parents would be so proud of you if they could see you here now,' Saul said gently and I froze. It was always those prominent little reminders, when we were alone in the morning, that made us both remember the crash I was in when I was little. My mum, biological mum and not Karla mum, was Saul's younger sister. When we pulled out the photo albums one morning, I looked identical to how my Mum did when she was fourteen (I have the chubbiest cheeks known to mankind,) and I guess Saul always saw that side of me when I woke up, had my hair tied up and no make up on.

'Would they?'

'Of course they would, Eleanor, and so are we.' Saul said and even though being called Eleanor, and not Ella, really pissed me off I smiled gratefully at him.

'Thanks,'

'Now go and wake your brothers up or you'll all be late for your first day back,' Saul said, carrying on typing on the laptop.

I carried two mugs of coffee up the stairs, telekinetically moving my hot chocolate behind them. On the first floor I stopped outside the third door on the hallway, knocking gently before opening it.

'Coffee?'

'As always,' I said to Yves, who was still curled up in bed. He yawed as I put down the coffee on his bedside cabinet, glaring at him for a second as he continued to lay down.

'Evie get our ass up,' I said rudely to him and he just chucked.

'Call me Evie again and I will punch you Yasmina-Ellie.'

'Oh, shut up,' I said, rolling my eyes. At birth my name was meant to be Yasmina-Eleanor, and it was until the age of four. When in preschool in England I decided I just wanted to be Ella, and my parents and brothers and sisters supported this notion so I was known as Ella. After the car crash, we had to change my name to hide me in America, and had to chance Michael's name (which was from Mike – he wasn't creative) so we wouldn't be found. So Yasmina was completely wiped from my birth certificate, and my last name was changed to Benedict. So it was Ella Mia Benedict, which was alright. However, as the Benedict's had gone from T-Z with their names, so when I had to pretend to be Yves' twin, my name beginning with E wouldn't cut it. So I said I shorterned down my name, true, and it was Yasmina-Eleanor, also true. So we got around the whole name thing that way. I hated it, but my brothers would taunt me about it relentlessly. Even worse was when they extended Ella to Eleanor or Ellie. I could deal with El, not Ellie.

'How cold is it out?' Yves asked, sitting up in bed.

'I'd say ditch the cardigans, still, but we could still ride the bikes in, it's not too bad.'

'Gotcha, thanks.' He said as I walked out the door, closing it. I grabbed my hot chocolate and Zed's coffee from the floor where I left them and carried them up the next flight of stairs to the top level of the house. It was only half, as the roof cut off slightly, but it meant my bedroom was to one side and even had an en-suite, whilst Zed's door was opposite mine with another bathroom to the right, and then a spare room, which used to belong to Uri but was converted into a study and a linen cupboard.

I knocked gently on Zed's door, opening it but he was still on the bed snoring softly.

'Come on Zed, wakey wakey.' I said, putting down his coffee on the shelf next to his bed, slamming it slightly as he jumped awake. I walked across the room slowly, climbing over his stack of textbooks that has been there all summer to sit on his window seat, looking across the south end of the slopes. Zed rolled over, looked at the clock and moaned, rolling back over. 'No, don't go back to sleep wake up,'

'I can't do another year of this bullshit, Ella.' He mumbled.

'Two years,' I said and he only groaned a bit more. 'It'll be alright – we can do it.' I affirmed to him.

'H+ow can we Ella? We barely made it through Sophomore.'

'But we did.'

'After we were both expelled for trying to get a paedo out of school. That was the end of the line, how can we go back. Our gifts are just fucking us around, aren't they. How can we survive another two years of that crap with our gifts fucking us over.' Zed argued sitting up in bed running his hands through his unkempt hair. 'Sorry, it's not even your fault.'

'Calm the heck down.' Was all I said. 'One day at a time. It's only inductions today, sorting out timetables, picking more electives. If you want me too I don't mind doing the same lessons as you if you need me there, I'd rather you be safe and okay than me doing a course for a few months.'

'You can't do that for me Ella,' Zed said gently, taking a sip of his coffee.

'I can if you want me too,'

'I'll be good – I'll pull it together this year.' Zed said, kicking around a shirt on his floor.

'If you don't, the same rules as last year apply. Tell me, and I'll come and find you.' I said, and he nodded. It was a simple system and even the teachers had started to cop in on it. If Zed foresaw something he tried to stop it, but only ended up doing something that made it worse, or if people just picked on Zed because of family reputation, the same way they pick on me and he wanted to leave the lesson he was free to do so – only if he calls me, texts me or tells me telepathically so I can come and find him and calm him down. It wasn't his fault his anger was explosive and caused stupid responses. I was the complete opposite; I go into withdrawal, hide it then find somewhere quiet to cry.

'Your attendance –'

'I don't give a shit, alright? I don't care if I get a stupid diploma or not because I have already got GCSE's and A-levels from my online courses I've been doing. I can still go to college or university if I wanted too. I have back up plans from the FBI and Maui, I don't give a shit anymore. I'm just sticking through it to appear normal. You don't have GCSE's and A-levels, and I bet my ass you don't even know what GCSE stands for. You need me you call me, got it?' I lectured my younger brother, turning to look out the window.

'Yeah. Thanks El,' He said softly, hugging me to his chest. 'You smell, get a shower,'

'Hypocrite,' I joked, getting up and walking into my room, straight over the bed and into my small ensuite, flicking the shower on as I jumped up on the small vanity unit as I frowned. I never understood where my brothers, well my family really, got their reputation. I mean, apart from being alright looking and getting in with all the popular people gave them that edge. But people are school are scared of them – why? Especially Zed. I know him as the softest guy ever who admittedly has anger issues. He's not dangerous or aggressive. He's only got into three fist fights and normally it's over me and when someone says something stupid about me. It's not his fault.

It's none of my brother's faults.

We can't help our gifts. They are meant to aid us and give us a genetic advantage but currently it hinders us – it makes us harder to be human and survive. Not only that there was the pressure to remain hidden. It's tricky when we can see what's about to happen before it happens, or make things catch fire, or suddenly drop five degrees because you're daydreaming. How can we be human when we're so... unhuman?

I jumped in the shower, washing the slight sweat in my hair, conditioning the otherwise dead split ends. If I could make it through today, I could make it through the week. The week would lead to a month and soon I'd only have to hang around in education until mid March in Senior year before I could leave. What i'd do after that is anyone's guess but I wanted to go back down to Cornwall with someone. I couldn't take friends over, as I'd stay with Michael and with Michael's new manager roll within Maui it might be hard to get him off work. I could probably invite one of his other friends. I knew Jake, who I've known since I started when I was twelve or something ridiculous. Every night or so we would constantly message each other about the most randomest of crap. I knew all about his family; his older brothers and sister and his younger brother who isn't quite with it and in control of his gifts (Jake's words seemed harsh to him but I could strangely relate to the younger brother guy) but he was also a manager, so I could try and convince one of them. I knew Jake's older sister Carly quite well, so I could try and butter her up into a surfing trip to Cornwall if I couldn't find someone by then. It was still quite some time away and I hope someone crops up into my life before them so I can go Cornwall and just have a surfing holiday away.

Nothing would happen; no one night stands or drunk nights out. I'm fairly confident I'm not like that.

I got out the shower, doing the limited make up I wear mainly just to cover the freckles I got over summer, quickly towel drying my hair before grabbing some super skinny jeans, wiggling them on and a baggy shirt, and without another look I grabbed my black spotty backpack and walked out my bedroom.