A/N: Thanks to all of you who reviewed. I really appreciate it.

Disclaimer: I own nothing that does not belong to me.


Previously:

"No, sweetie. Nothing's wrong." He assures her after a long pause. "Nothing at all."

Chapter Six

I awoke with a start, gasping for breath. Why I'd had that dream now, I don't know. Maybe it was because I was thinking about my living situation. That was probably it.

I didn't really want to think about what had happened after that, but it was all coming back to me, flowing into my consciousness like someone had turned on the fountain of memories. My father leaving, the divorce, learning that my mother had custody; all of it was coming back, whether I wanted it to or not. I closed my eyes and willed away the memories. It was no use; I couldn't help but think about them. I opened my eyes with a sigh. Why did this have to happen to me now? Couldn't my brain have done this to me when I wasn't undergoing a huge change? Obviously, my brain was just as stubborn as I was when it came to being itself. It made sense, I guess. My brain should be like me – it was me, basically, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to complain about it. It's the prerogative of a teenager to complain, isn't it? Yes, I decided resolutely, it is. A teenager is not only allowed to complain, he/she is supposed to complain. It's expected for a teen to complain. So, I was only following the expectations of society when I complained about something I couldn't change. Come to think of it, I don't really understand why society is so upset whenever a teenager does something stupid. I mean, they throw it all over the media when someone does something stupid, it's practically shouting at us that this is what's expected for someone to do. I'd heard someone(1) say once that if the media stopped talking about the crime rate so much, the crime rate would probably go down. It made sense, kind of. When you say something to people all the time, they tend to start to do that something. Sometimes, the stupidity of people was exasperating. Other times, it was amusing. I yawned, it really was stupid…

The next thing I knew, my alarm clock was going off. Did that really just happen? Have I actually understood; this weird quirk I tried to suppress, or hide, is a talent that could help me meet the wizard, if I make good? So I'll make good…

"Nnn," I groaned, feeling for the sleep button. Click. The music turned off. I sighed in contentment, turned over, and went back to sleep.

Five minutes later, my alarm clock went off again: When I meet the wizard, once I've proved my worth, and then I'll meet the wizard what I've waited for since, since birth! …

Stupid alarm clock, I thought sleepily. It can't be time to get up yet. I turned over and, rubbing sleep from my eyes, looked hazily at the time. Then I scowled. It was time to get up. Where had the night gone? I could use a few more hours of sleep. I sat up and stretched. I sighed as I swung my feet out of bed and felt the chill of the air on my toes.

…And this gift or this curse I have inside, maybe at last, I'll know why, when we are hand and hand, the Wizard and I!... The music on my alarm clock was getting progressively louder. I turned back and turned it off. Then, I turned on my music, and, after some thought, put a different song on. I was getting bored of The Wizard and I anyways. The music came on, and I smiled.

"Okay!" I said aloud. "Time to face another day." I loved mornings. They always seemed so … clean, exciting. The entire day lay ahead of you; an empty page for me to write on. The only part I didn't like about mornings was the getting up part. It was always so hard to make myself get out of my nice, warm, comfortable bed. It was always cold in my room in the mornings. I shivered as I walked hurriedly to my dresser and pulled out my clothes. I decided to put on a pair of jeans and a long sleeved green shirt.

After I finished getting ready for school, I turned off my music and went downstairs as quietly as I could. I knew from experience that my mother would already be at work, and that Jim would probably still be upstairs in bed. I glanced into the kitchen and sighed with relief. My luck was in. Jim was still in bed. I grabbed my breakfast and realized that I'd left my back pack upstairs in my room. I snuck upstairs, and hurried down to my room as silently as I could. I grabbed my backpack and was almost to the stairs when I heard a noise coming from the master bedroom. I froze, listening hard. Hearing nothing else, I continued down the stairs.

I was just finishing breakfast when Jim appeared in the doorway. He gave me a long, hard stare before sneering at me and completely ignoring me. He went around me and got his breakfast without saying a word. It was unnerving. He'd never ignored me before, and I couldn't help but think that he somehow knew that I was a mutant. It was ridiculous; I knew that, but still… I decided to try out my theory by talking to him. Doing so would make him think about me, at least a little, and then I'd know if it was okay to be relieved that he was ignoring me or on the lookout for something he'd do.

"Good morning, Jim." I said pleasantly.

He twitched and returned the greeting politely enough, but his thoughts…they were anything but polite.

'…stupid girl. I'll be glad when we're rid of her.' What?!? He continued on, oblivious to my rigid face and the stiffness of my body. '…don't know why Susan fought so hard to get custody of the bitch; she should've just let the two of them go, and good riddance to the both of 'em.' He was thinking of my father and I when he said 'them.' What was he talking about? How were they going to get rid of me? Who were they? I didn't think he was talking about my mother when he said they; he didn't really have a picture for 'them', and people tended to picture the faces of people they knew when they were thinking about them. Since Jim didn't have a face that goes with his concept of 'them,' it implied that he hadn't met them. And 'they' were going to get rid of me. It was frightening.

I cleaned up my breakfast things on auto pilot, fretting about 'them' getting rid of me. Then I realized that he was probably referring to when I'd be leaving for college. I was a junior, after all; I'd be going on college visits and all of that stuff soon. Yeah. That was what he meant. I tried to concentrate on the relief that thought brought me and not the unease I still felt. A quick glance at the clock told me that Zack would be here soon to take me to school. I grabbed my things and went to the living room to wait where I'd be able to see outside and I wouldn't have to be near Jim. He really creeped me out.

I fidgeted as I waited for Zack to arrive. Time was creeping along again. Why did time go slowly when you wanted it to move fast, and speed by when you wanted to savor something? Zack could not arrive fast enough.

I sat there in the living room impatiently until I saw Zack pulling up in his red Forester. Thank goodness. I knew it'd only been 2 or 3 minutes, but it felt like 10 or 12 to me.

I waved to let him know I was coming, and walked out into the hallway leading to the front door. Jim was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, staring at me with absolutely no expression on his face. I tried to ignore him as I pulled on my shoes – sneakers today a part of me thought – and opened the door. As I was walking out thru the door, I caught a fragment of Jim's thoughts.

'…Tonight…'

I shivered and closed the door, heading out to the comfort of the person who actually cared about me.


(1) My English teacher.

A/N: Sorry about the shortness - it didn't want to be any longer :( And, if I had, it wouldv'e been crappy... which would suck, really... so... yeah.