"Dad!" Dominic yells frantically from down the hall.

"What?!" Adam shouts, running into his son's room.

"What the hell is going on with my voice?!" Dominic shouts in a deep alto voice. Adam smiles.

"Puberty…" he whispers.

"Uh… what?"

"Puberty."

"What the fuck is puberty?!" Dominic questions harshly, his voice cracking. Adam chuckles.

"When you get hormonal and shit," Adam replies. "Google it. I don't know…" Dominic rolls his eyes.

"Wow."

"But, now should be the time when you're going cuckoo over all sorts of bitches!" Adam shouts.

"Uh… yeah… okay…"

"Shut up. Go get and shower and whatever else."

I walk into the school warily, searching the halls for my class. The different wings and floors are highly confusing, sending me every which-way all across campus. I finally find my class and walk inside, seeing the rowdy creatures that high schoolers call 'freshmen'.

Boys toss around a rubber football while girls sit on the tops of desks absentmindedly applying lip gloss. There are a few girls huddled around a tiny shiny trinket, perhaps a bracelet. They marvel moronically at the way it sparkles in the sunlight of the small rectangular window in the corner of the classroom. Their high pitched giggles consume the room.

There's a skinny boy in the back of the room who's reading a scientific book about reptiles. His face is covered in acne, his brunette hair looks slick and nearly black from minimum bathing and any other forms of hygiene, his skin tone is pasty and frailed, and his clothing is atrociously mismatched. I swear I can smell his foul odor from the farthest distance I am apart from him at the moment.

He wears worn-out tennis shoes, white cotton socks to his shins, khaki shorts, and an Avengers t-shirt. He has to continuously snort and push his wire-rimmed glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. He opens his mouth to yawn, showing two rows of yellowed, blotchy, wildly crooked teeth.

I quickly look away from the frighteningly awkward mess of a boy and search the opposite side of the room, seeing a thick, red-headed girl sitting alone, examining something in her hand. I think about walking her way until I see her shove her chubby finger into her nasal cavity. I watch in horror and disgust as she pulls her finger back out with a small wad of green-tinted goo.

My jaw drops in shock and absolute disturbance. I somehow peel my eyes away from the horrid sight and focus my eyes to a group of dark-skinned girls. The four dark-skinned girls discuss how nice their asses look in their skin-tight jeans. I roll my eyes, looking to the ground.

'Typical high school stereotyped classroom… lovely…'

"Hey, you," a female voices from the middle of the room. I look up with a raised brow, searching for the owner of the voice. A tiny, brunette-haired girl looks up from her notebook, nodding once at me. I hesitantly walk over to her, sitting in the empty seat behind her.

I hear a loud continuous ring, lasting for a few brief seconds. I look up and all around me, trying to figure out where it's coming from and why. The blonde girl laughs. I look at her with confusion in my eyes.

"You've never been to a real school, have you?" I shake my head. She chuckles. "There are plenty of freaks here. You'll fit in somewhere." I just watch the girl curiously, his pink lips moving smoothly and flawlessly. She hesitates before speaking again. "My name's Shana…" I continue to watch her with interest. "Do you speak?" she asks. My focus snaps to attention.

"Oh, uh, yeah… I'm Dominic. You can call me Nicky, if you want…" She smiles and speaks again.

"Hola, Nicky."

"¿Hablas español?" I ask.

"Uh… What?"

"Usted dijo que bueno, asì que supuse que eran capaces de hablar espanol." Shana looks at me in confusion.

"Dude."

"Do you even speak Spanish?" Shana shakes her head.

"I just like the word hola…" I raise a brow, and she shrugs.

"Well, how would I know where I fit in?" I ask. She pauses, pursing her lips and taking in a deep breath.

"Do you play a sport?"

"No."

"Are you a male cheerleader?"

"No."

"Do you swim?"

"Yeah."

"Competitively?"

"Nooo…"

"Can you sing?"

"I don't know."

"Do you play an instrument?"

"All of them."

"Wanna?"

"No."

"Are you peppy?"

"Not always."

"Are you friendly?"

"You tell me."

"Bookworm?"

"Not really."

"Slacker?"

"Never!"

"You a science junkie?"

"I like all subjects equally."

"Favourite colours?"

"Purple and black."

"Do spikes fascinate you?"

"They're okay, I suppose."

"Do you like death?"

"Not particularly, no."

"Have you physically harmed yourself?"

"Not on purpose."

"Have you tasted the rainbow lately?"

"What?"

"What are you fighting?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Baseball."

"What?"

"Catch or pitch?"

"WHAT?!"

"Do you like guys or girls?!" Shana whispers loudly. I hesitate a second before voicing my reply.

"Ggguu-girls." Shana nods slowly.

"You can like both, ya know." I feel my face flash with heat.

"No, no. I just like girls." Shana smirks.

"Well, it seems as though you're possibly one of the rare normals at this hell hole. Congrats."

"What are you?"

"I'm basically strattling the fine line between normal and freak."

"Okay, then…" I'm timid to tell her about my same-sex alien fathers, so I keep it to myself. I figure that I can tell her when she's ready… in a couple hundred years or so…

I realize that the teacher's been in the classroom a short while.

"Dominic Glambert, could you come to the front of the classroom for a moment, please?" the teacher requests.

'Shit. First day of class, and I'm already fucked…'

"Class, this id Dominic," the woman says, touching my shoulder. I shy away from her strange touch, her falsely maternal attitude. She ignores my gesture and continues. "He's never been to school before. He's been homeschooled his entire life, so I want you all to treat him nicely."

The teacher smiles and pats my back, letting her hand rest precariously against my back. I feel her awkward maternal sensation again. I move away from her warily, looking back at her hand, which is closing slowly from the rejection of her gesture. She smiles warmly at me as I walk backwards to my desk. She watches me sadly for a few more seconds before moving on with her class plan.

"What was that all about?" Shana asks. I shrug.

"She seemed like she was trying to act like a mother to me."

"Does she know your mom?" I hesitate, not sure whether to divulge my secret or not.

"I… don't have a mom…"

"Oh, Nicky, I'm so sorry…"

"No, it's not like that or anything… I literally have no mother."

"That's not really possible."

"Yeah it is."

"How?"

"I have two dads." Shana's eyes widen slightly.

"Ohhhhhh…"