"So, I told him that he could be a merman for all I cared. If I wanted to take a ride on a yacht, I'd steal one!" Lydia and I giggled at Allison's story. I actually giggled. Of course, that could have been because of the fruity little wine coolers Lydia pulled out during our manicure. I'd had three and I was feeling light as air.

"Do you think mermaids are real?" Lydia asked. She was laying on her bed with her head at the top and Allison next to her with her head at the bottom. I was sprawled across the shaggy pink rug.

"There's no way they could be," Allison protested. "We would have found them by now."

"You've never found the rock elves, and they live in every country in the world," I pointed out. "Fuck up roads a lot if they're not looked after too."

"You know about elves made of rock, but you didn't know about werewolves?" Lydia questioned.

"I didn't have a lot of experience in the supernatural," I explained. "We're exposed to what our parents do first. Mom's a reader, item and people specialized. So she would have old stuff sent to her, study it, and she'd send it back. Between five and ten, we get to go to grand meetings. We're not actually allowed in the meeting but we stay with a few adults who have activities and stories for us. At eleven, we can attend meetings. Sixteen, they start our training for specialization. Training finishes at 22, we're up for council at 33, and we retire at 77. I only ever made it to one actual meeting."

There was a long pause and then Lydia asked, "How do you sound so clear when you're so clearly drunk? You're so much more talkative but you didn't slur one time!"

"I'm not drunk!" I protested.

"You're definitely not sober," Allison snorted. "Have you ever drank before?"

"Yes!" I regularly drank ritual wine.

"For fun?" Lydia demanded.

"No," I admitted. Allison laughed and it felt funny instead of mean so I laughed too.

"Now that you're properly hammered," Lydia stated, "let's hear you talk about boys now!"

"I'm not that drunk, Lydia!"

"Then drink the wine cooler sitting near your head," Allison commanded, "because even I'm interested in how you made out with Stiles when you were supposed to be on a date with Greenberg."

Lydia agreed. "If Scott and Isaac know anything, they're not talking. So you should."

I grunted, reached up, and grabbed the bottle above my head. I took a long pull from it and pointed out, "You're a lot nicer when I'm drunk."

"You're a lot nicer when you're drunk," Allison retorted. "Seriously, most of the time, you act like you're pissed at us for being around you."

"It's because she's uncomfortable," Lydia defended. "Stiles has told you that."

"It's true," I sighed honestly. "I'm literally uncomfortable around you people all the time."

"Maybe stop calling us 'you people,'" Lydia suggested. "And start relaxing. You act like it's such a bad thing that we know about Brian being a zombie. What are we going to do? Tell on you?"

I stared at the girls on the bed and, even through my hazy, tipsy brain, I knew to keep my mouth shut. But it didn't matter anyway because Allison sat up quickly and exclaimed, "Oh my god! You have laws, don't you? Like the Hunters do! And you're mentioned that you weren't supposed to bring Brian back. I thought it was breaking natural laws but it isn't, is it? Your family broke a real law, didn't you?"

I just stared at her. She continued, "You did! You broke very real laws. The Hunters kill people for breaking our laws. What do your kind do to punish? What are your people called?"

"Come on," Lydia encouraged when I just stared blankly. "We won't even tell the boys that you told us."

For the first time since I started drinking, I read their faces. Sloppily, since the symbols were literally sliding across their faces, but I could still see the trust and honesty that were moving throughout. Finally, I said slowly, "We call ourselves Natural Scientists. Witches is an annoying, outdated term. Our gifts aren't magic. Nothing comes from nothing. We see and command atoms and molecules."

"So potentially, your kind could do anything. You could rearrange the atoms in my body to turn my blood to iron," Lydia interrupted.

"Potentially, but nobody does because we're not violent. Everything is balanced for us. Like in chemicals. Like in nature. We want balance. Plus, only the older ones focused their gifts in human biology. It's not taught anymore. The information hasn't been passed on. When the older ones are closer to their end, they'll pick a handful of elementals, readers, and builders, and they'll teach them so that it won't be forgotten. They'll be taught separate so none of them pair and feed off one another. It's a specific job."

"What do you do though? You mention them in pairs. Builders and readers. But you're both. Are there others like you?"

"Not that I've heard of. I was an anomaly within the community. They assumed it would fade with age and, as far as they know, it has. If they knew I could still do both, my mother and I would be pulled under watch."

"Why?"

"Because Natural Scientists aren't meant to do more than one thing. Readers interpret the situation; builders change it. Water elementals alter water, fire-fire, air-wind, earth-stone. We have to know the material to change it. So, if builders want something to be changed, they have to have a reader tell them how. If readers want something changed, they have to find a builder. It's a check system. It's what stops us from turning trees to flowers, burning water…"

"Bringing back the dead," Allison said in awe and I nodded. "You're supposed to have somebody to stop you from doing whatever you want, and you don't."

I nodded again. Lydia said, "So who takes care of it."

"The lawmakers. Ten per continent. A mix of the gifts. Not a perfect blend but a standard of our kind. Every citizen across the world knows them. There are so few of us, basically little family groups. Once we were hunted, now we're barely there. The lawmakers travel, greeting babies, assigning trainers if one hasn't been provided, running meetings, and making sure we do three things: teach, remain peaceful, and keep the balance."

"And you broke the balance."

'No, I didn't. Brian's life force is on the other side of the rift. The overall balance is kept. But, in their eyes, I've still done wrong. But I'm underage. I won't be held accountable. My mom will."

"They'll kill her?" I could tell Allison was thinking of her mom and her mom's death.

"Worse. They'll wipe her mind, leaving her with only her ability to read."

"And?" Lydia prompted.

"And a reader who is only left with their gift can only use it in one way- playback. She'd be an empty shell repeating the thoughts of anyone near her. Over and over and over." I suddenly felt very sober and I lifted to bottle to my lips to drain the remaining alcohol.

"Carter, you don't know us, and you don't trust us, but we will never tell anyone," Allison promised. "Nobody will ever find out and we'll help you keep them away if they do find out. And I know Isaac and Scott will help too."

"Thank you. And Brian and I will be kinder. Less aggressive towards you. It's been a long time since I had friends and it'll be nice to have more than Danny and Stiles." I smiled softly.

"Now that we're all friends, tell us what happened with Stiles," Lydia broke the solemnness of the moment. "I mean, we could wait until you've drank more but tell us!"