Chapter Four: Of Books and Shapes

It was really almost too easy to arrange all this. Claire, of course, was a little wary, but that made sense. Even normal girls with normal lives could get into trouble with strange boys at college—and someone in Claire's position would be twice as cautious. Even so, she was meeting me today in just a little while to study. I checked my watch and found that I had a little while before four, so I pulled out Claire's journal for a bit of light reading and flipped to a random page.

October 2, 2006

Today the police came to school and started asking about the cheerleader who pulled the man out of the train wreck. Jackie took the credit for it and I let her. I can't let anyone find out about the stuff that's happening to me. They'd think I was a freak, and I am. But Zach told me today that he lost the tape that we recorded everything on. Oh my God, if anyone finds it, they'll freak out. I'm freaking out.

I asked Dad today about my birth parents. I'm hoping maybe they can tell me something about what's wrong with me, not that I told him that. He said that it was a grown-up decision though and that I shouldn't try to grow up too fast. I think he's just worried, but he's the best dad in the world. It's not like meeting my biological parents would ever change that.

Love,

Claire

I smirked. Wouldn't you know it; the girl still had an unusual obsession with being 'normal' and trying to stifle who she really was. I tucked the book safely into my backpack as Claire walked up to my table. I had chosen it for its position in the center of the large area, making sure that she would feel unthreatened and safe.

"Hey Michael," she greeted me with a smile, and I couldn't help but smile back. She was actually quite sociable, assuming one hadn't attacked her and opened her head up. Yes, this had been an altogether brilliant plan, although I still wasn't entirely sure what I was trying to get out of it.

She started talking about literature and Jane Eyre, and I completely missed every word of it. It was the conviction, the passion in her voice that caught my interest. It made me wonder if she devoted the same kind of zeal to her relationships with the people around her. It was enough to make me want to be the subject of the same kind of fervor. I found myself gazing at her face as she grew more and more animated. Her eyes lit up when she got excited, and I wished I cared about her favorite stories enough to be able to have a real conversation.

"But do you see what I mean, Michael?" she finished. "It's the universality of the themes that make it so popular."

"Absolutely, I do," I assured her.

She laughed, raising her eyebrows in an expression of unbelief. "No you don't. You've been staring at me, and you haven't heard anything I'm saying."

"I most certainly have," I protested. "You're talking about your favorite books."

"Okay, well you obviously haven't been listening to me, because I never said they were my favorites." She folded her arms across her chest and sat back in her chair.

"Not in so many words, no. But just because I didn't catch every word doesn't mean I can't listen to you and interpolate the subconscious affect you take on when you talk about this stuff."

Her face was blank for a second before she laughed.

"You must be smart, because I have no idea what half of that meant."

"Told you," I reminded her, grinning. "You'll never need another tutor as long as you're here."

Claire stuck her tongue out at me. "Let's take a little break before I ask you about my math homework, then. If you're so brilliant you should be able to teach me in a pretty short time, right?"

"Sure. What did you have in mind?" I asked, stretching back.

"Tell me about yourself." When I stared blankly at her, she encouraged me, "You know, just a few things about you."

"Um, hi?" It felt very awkward. Hello, my name is Sylar. I stole the DNA of a young man who visited a traveling carnival of people with powers, and now I'm using it to masquerade as a college student so that I can interact with this girl who, coincidentally, has appeared on my arm as a magical tattoo. I suppressed a chuckle before opening my mouth again.

"My name is Michael Garrison. I'm a freshman at Arlington who hasn't decided on a major yet. I'm left-handed, I love pie, and I'm from Queens."

She beamed at me, and I felt like the sun was shining on my face. "Good. I'm Claire Bennet and I'm originally from Texas. I love chocolate milk. I have a little brother named Lyle and family that lives in New York, and I'm adopted."

"Nice." I looked at my watch again and saw that we'd already been there for well over an hour. "Ready to work on your math?" She nodded reluctantly, pulling her textbook out with a sigh. We spent the next hour and a half going through her homework until we were both satisfied that she understood the material.

"That was incredible," Claire gushed as we left the library together. "You really are a good tutor." I smiled and thanked her as she pulled out her cell phone.

"Do you maybe want to join my roommate and me for dinner?" she asked.

"I can't; I need to go work on my own homework," I lied, noting the way her face fell at my refusal.

"I'm sorry I took up most of our study time. Thanks again!"

I watched the petite blonde's hips sway as she walked away. It was time for me to return to my real shape for a while. I was already thinking of Claire in her pajamas, the way she would be that night as I watched from her window.

A/N: Hello! Here's chapter four, after a long weekend. I hope you all had pleasant Valentine's days and were able to spend time with the people you love. Please remember to leave comments, as those are the only way we know you like/dislike what we are writing. We'd like to have at least five comments for each chapter, but we're not going to punish you all if we don't get to that number. We'll just feel very dejected.

--Mel and Chuck