His skin is dull and uncared for, dead scales visible on the surface. His hands are tiny little things that shake as he clings onto his papers like his life depended on it. His eyes are the palest shade of light purple possible, staring blankly out at us. They seem to lack sheen, as though he was actually a corpse that had somehow managed to become reanimated. A shiver runs down my back, startling Moby. He stares up at me innocently from his position. Unable to speak, I half-smile reassuringly at him.

"My name is Thar," he begins, looking straight into the plastic surface of the podium, not letting our eyes meet his. "I'm going to be your teacher for this class. I expect good work from all of you," he says quietly. His voice has the quality of a file on splintered wood.

I relate all the details back to Gregg as we sit in the staff rec. room. He listens intently, occasionally nodding. Other than the bandages on one of his antennae, it is now impossible to tell simply by looking at him how close he came to death. For awhile, he had my blood in his veins, I realize with a little shock. What an odd thought. Seeing as how it is somewhat of a scary thought, I push it away. Best not to dwell on the morbid, I believe.

Then I notice the slight pressure on my hand. Looking down, I see Gregg's hand on top of mine, his long spindle-claws gently curled around my hand. His face is turned away from mine, blushing. "You're my really good friend, Original. If this guy ever tries to do something creepy to you, just come to me. I'll teach him a lesson in Irken civilization."

I smile gently, turning my hand over and wrapping my own claws around his. "Sure, Gregg. I'll do that."

Gregg gives me the cutest, embarrassed little smeet look by turning his head slightly sideways. He doesn't say anything, he simply smiles. I sense that he's going to do something far more important, and lean slightly forward. He does the same. He's looking directly into my eyes when a lean yet large form plops between us.

"Am I missing anything important?" Willow asks, her gigantic grin nearly spreading so far that it falls off her face. Surprised, Gregg and I squeal and fall backwards. Unfortunately for us, we're still holding hands, and end up more or less rolling sideways and clunking our heads together. When we sit back up, muttering angrily at Willow's choice of introductions, our antennae brush together. Gregg immediately looks like the monsters that bit him have reappeared, his face darkening with a horrible blush.

"I'm sorry but I have to go, training you know!" he cries, leaping to his feet and skittering off. I stare after him, one finger absentmindedly tracing my mouth.

"What got into him?" Willow asks, helping herself to my snack cakes. I turn back to her, unable to believe her. I've quickly learned that one does not make plans to see Willow; Willow makes plans to see you.

"Did I say you could eat those?" I ask.

"You never said I couldn't," she shrugs. "Want 'em back?" she asks, showing me the half-chewed food.

"That's gross!" I reply, shaking my head at her.

"Hey, I offered," she replies, eating another cake. "So…. what were you and G-R-E-G-G up to before I decided to drop in? Making a little wild monkey love magic?"

"Wild monkey love magic?" I ask, confused. What's a monkey?

"Nevermind," she replies. "You weren't around when Zim made his latest transmissions."

"I've heard of Zim, but I've never seen him."

"Invader about this tall," she says, holding her hand about two inches off the ground. "Really, really funny. He missed his calling as a comedienne. I can't decide if the tallests hate him, like they say, or if they really love him because he's so funny and he keeps them in stitches. I think they're in denial that they actually look forward to his reports."

"Ah," I say. It's all I can say. Willow takes it for granted that she hangs out with the tallests, whereas the rest of us do not.

"These cakes are horrible," Willow says. "Really dry."

"Buy your own next time," I reply dryly. Willow looks at me and laughs.

"I'm influencing you in a bad way. When I met you, you never would have had the guts to say that to anyone. I think somebody's growing a spiiiine," she sing-sang.

"Now you're just being silly," I reply, grabbing up the last cake before Willow can get to it. After all, I'd like to at least get ONE of them, since I did buy them. "I've got to leave soon. My class meets tonight."

"Ah, how are things going for you?"

"My instructor is a zombie, but that's about it." I shrug. There isn't much else to say. We study, we do homework, we pray that we won't fail the test. This test has the ability to push you as far back as it does forward. That's why I decided against taking it in the first place. I was scared I would fail. I'm still deadly petrified that I'll fail. "I wake up in the night with my heart pounding angrily at my ribs, terrified because I've just dreamed that I failed."

Willow turns serious for a moment. "You're not going to fail, okay? You're my FRIEND. I saw something special in you in that storage closet, something really special. I wouldn't let someone like that go on being a gem among stones."

"You're full of it, Willow," I reply, starting to pack up the remnants of the meal that Gregg and I had been eating before he'd run off to do his training or something. Perhaps he was simply avoiding Willow. It was obvious, at least to me, that they mixed like cleansing gel and oil, which is to say, not at all.

"I'm full o' tha HOLY SPIRIT!" Willow yelled, waving her arms in the air in imitation of an Irken preacher. I laugh so hard that I nearly fall over. That's one of the reasons the establishment hates the current tallests so much. The first time they met the Irken Headmaster, think of him like your Earthen pope, tallest Red raised his arms in the air and screamed exactly what Willow had just screamed. At least, that's what I'd heard. Urban legends like that have a tendency to grow and twist until the truth is nothing more than a distortion. I did know one thing: their inability to take anything seriously was LEGENDARY.

"Great, now I'm late for class," I snicker, gathering up the last of the foodage and dumping it in the trash.

"I'll walk ya' to it," Willow shrugs. The two of us set off down the hallway, Willow's clunking boots announcing our presence to the entire Massive. She notices the stares and shrugs. "They're jealous because I'm fashionable."

"Sure, Willow," I reply, leaving her behind as I enter the classroom with two other late Irkens. The pale teacher glares angrily in our general direction, but over our heads. He never lets his eyes meet anyone else. I wonder why. I initially thought he was blind, but it became obvious as he continued to teach that he could see out of at least one eye, for he didn't need help navigating about as he wrote things on the computerized note board.

Fast-forward five weeks into the class, only two weeks left to go. The stuff on the board is increasingly complex, and I haven't seen Gregg in a week as result. I need my free time to stuff my brain meats full of information I'll need to pass the test. I'm finding that I miss him more and more as time goes on, and I can't understand why. I've had five good weeks with him hanging out, laughing, and ducking Willow when we actually get the chance to see her coming with evil intent written in her eyes. It's not that we hate Willow, we simply dislike it when she shows up and drinks our soda without asking. When we have no food, Gregg gets squeamish but we usually don't run from her.

I wonder what's wrong with me. I've been focusing on him so hard that I have to scramble to get the newest equation onto my miniature computer. I can't start getting day-dreamy at this part of the class. It's far too important. Sitting between my ankles, Moby makes a little humming noise to himself. I wonder what he could possibly be doing down there and taking a peek. He's got a sheet of paper and a pink crayon. He's drawn two stick-figure Irkens. The caption reads "Original loves Gregg."

I let out a gasp of surprise so loud that the whole room turns my direction. The teacher gives me a harsh glance, but it's aimed at the chair next to me. I immediately feel the blood rushing to my face. "Sorry, elder," I mutter, embarrassed. I can't believe they're all staring at me. What a time to finally be noticed, I think sadly.

"Well, if some of the audience would allow me to continue teaching, then…" the teacher sneers, returning to his work. I'm humiliated. I feel like crying. I'd run from the room if I could, but then I'd only be embarrassed more. I can't even tell Moby to put the picture away for fear of causing a stir. I'm frozen and caged in my helpless situation, and I don't like it. It hurts.

"This is why I never wanted to take this stupid test!" I cry as I run from the room. I've disposed of the offensive picture and I've got Moby under the crook of my arm. Hot tears are running down my face as I stumble back towards the sleeping units.

The class runs so late that most of the functions of the Massive have shut down for the "night" by the time it gets over. My standard issue boots thud dully on the ground as I haul Moby along, still sniffling miserably. What a way to make a fool of myself, I think viciously. Sometimes I really hate myself, I honestly do.

I collide straight with him at the high rate of speed I was going. I had my head down, so I wasn't paying attention. We both let out cries of surprise and bounce backwards. "Sorry, sorry," I mutter. How many times can I embarrass myself in one day?

"Original?" a familiar male voice asks softy.

"Gregg?" I ask in response, looking up. "What are you doing out here?"

"Picking up extra cash by working someone else's night shift for him so he can go out clubbing. What are you doing here?"

"I just got out of class," I reply. "I'm sorry I ran into you."

"No, I should have been paying attention." He looks closely at my face. "Original! Your face is smeared with tears! What happened? Did that creep try to do something to you?" he asks.

"No… I just… I just made a fool of myself in front of everyone today."

"Oh, I'm sorry," he replies softly, putting an arm around my heaving shoulders.

"Don't be. I'm the one that made an idiot of myself."

"Now, don't talk like that," he says as he helps me to my feet. "Come on, I'm walking you back to your sleep chambers. Don't worry, I won't get any trouble. I'm supposed to simply patrol the Massive and make sure everything looks normal. Most trouble I've ever run into is mid-aged Smeets out for a thrill."

I nod weakly, letting him take me and put his arms around my shaking torso, essentially guiding me back to the incubation chambers. Outside the door, he pauses and leans over, letting his antennae intentionally touch mine. Because he's slightly taller than I am, I have to tip my head up to look into his eyes. Without warning he leans forward, pressing his open mouth against mine.

I'm so stunned that I can't reply verbally. I want to push him away, but instead my neck flexes backwards, tipping my head back. My hands are on his chest, Moby and my papers suddenly forgotten and lying on the floor. He puts his claws around my back and pulls me close. My heart is pounding as he brushes my face with his antennae. My breathing becomes shallow with excitement. I'm responding to every movement he makes, everything he does.

Then he breaks away. "I'm sorry. That wasn't right of me."

"I don't understand," I mutter. "Willow said that low level Irkens don't have the urge to mate. What were we just doing then?"

He turned slightly darker in color. "They took me off my anti-hormone pills while I was recovering. When I started having feelings for you, I decided I'd never take them again. As for you… well, you're in training to be a scholar, right? Scholars don't have to take those kind of things."

"Gregg…" I respond softly, touching his face with my antennae. He holds out a claw, and I press mine inside his. There's a brief moment where neither of us is capable of movement and then he shrugs. "I have to go make the rounds. I'll see you later, okay?" he asks, giving my claw a quick squeeze.

I nod and watch as he leaves, feeling a lump in my throat. The second he's out of sight, strong hands grasp me. I try to scream, but they cover my mouth. "How could you?" a voice hisses in my ear, then I'm pushed hard on the ground. Moby squeaks and dodges out of my way, but I land hard on my papers.

"After all that I did for, you ungrateful wretch, you go off behind my back and make eyes at that… mindless servant of the war machine!" Willow shrieks. Her eyes are flashing like lightning glowed within. Her hands are balled into fists. Her entire body is shaking violently, like she were being vibrated by some unseen force.

"Willow?" I ask, scooting in terror across the floor.

"You were supposed to be MINE! Did I not make that clear?" she hissed. My eyes increase in size and I back-peddle across the floor as Willow menacingly advances on me. As she walks, her spider legs extend one by one until they lift her off the ground. I have no choice but to extend my own legs, retreating until one of my legs clangs against a metal support post. I debate skittering up it and decide against it. After all, she could easily follow me and I'd be trapped in a corner.

"I got you into the scholar tests so that you could get off the hormones. I did that for you and this is how you repay me?" she asks again, her voice low and menacing.

"Willow… please… I didn't know your intentions!" I cry, huddling against the pole. "And I… I… I want to be Gregg's mate!"

I immediately realize my mistake and have time to dive sideways before her legs strike the place where I was hard enough to send slivers of metal into the air. By that time, Willow's screaming incoherently and has drawn a small crowd of Irkens out of their incubators. They stand in the doorframe and stare.

It must be an odd sight to them. Willow huddles, shaking violently, against the support pole. Smoke rises and makes a halo around her head from the sparks she made when she leaped at me. I'm lying on my back, my extensible legs spread in a circle around me, trying to will them to work again before she has time to make a second strike.

Willow grasps onto the pole like a lifeline, straightening herself out as I manage to get back on my legs. She laughs, her voice filling the empty corridor. Where are you, Gregg, I wonder as I look frantically about. Just when I need him…

Then, Willow puts her legs away. An easy look crosses her face. "It's okay," she shrugs. "You do what's right for you," she purrs, then she saunters off.

Carlit runs from the incubator room to my side and clasps my arm as I lower myself gingerly to the ground. I'm out of practice with my legs. "What was that all about?" she asks.

"I… I honestly don't know," I reply sadly, my antennae drooping like they were covered in lead weights. "But I just know I'm not going to sleep well tonight."

***

I FIXED THE PROBLEM SO THAT NOW, SUPPOSEDLY, YOU DO NOT HAVE TO SIGN IN TO REVIEW THIS STORY.