Seven classes, five days a week. Sixteen weeks a semester. Two semesters a year. No holidays, no days off, a total of three sick days a semester, and even then there has to be a confirmation from the academy's nurse. That is what the Hendrick's Academy's rule book said. And this is what Peyton told Oz and Alex, after Bart informed her.

There was a vast variety of class, separate from martial arts. The individual students were allowed to pick their own classes. Normal students got to pick their own classes. Blunt picked the classes for his team, making sure that they shared classes; not all - but enough to matter.

"So, this sucks," Peyton commented as she sat on Oz's bed, waiting patiently as the two boys that owned the dorm were getting dressed. "We've got the basic-ist of basic classes. The least he could have done was let us learn something..."

"Speak for yourself," Alex said, as he quickly pulled on a t-shirt over his head, but Peyton still managed to catch a glimpse of his exposed flesh; the cuts and bruises not yet healed, the bullet wound still bandaged. "My schedule's an exact replica of the classes I'm supposed to be taking. The least he could have done was given me blow off classes that require no concentration and effort."

Peyton chuckled. "What, no comment?" She asked, turning to Oz.

Oz glanced up, as he was pulling on his jacket. "Yeah, you're a nerd and this kid is exactly that -- a kid."

"So what does that make you?" Peyton asked defensively.

"Unlucky," Oz said quietly. He glanced around the room. Alex was looking at him with an odd expression. Peyton looked slightly bored, drumming her fingers on her knees, and staring off into the empty space before her. "Where's the other guy?" Oz asked, his voice loud in the sudden silence.

Alex shrugged and glanced over at Peyton. "I dunno," Peyton said shrugging. "Probably out...observing stuff. He seems to do that a lot. It's kind of creepy and a little unsettling. Sometimes I find myself talking to myself because I get lonely."

"Yeah," Oz drawled, glancing down at his watch. "I wonder what they'll do if you're late to class," he commented. The first class of the day was scheduled to start in ten minutes.

"Why?" Peyton asked.

Alex shrugged. "Well, it is supposed to be a cruel institution. Or that's what Blunt was hinting at. The only way to see if their cruel is to make them cruel."

Peyton shrugged. "Are you gonna be our guinea pig, Oz?" She asked, glancing up at him. She wasn't drumming her fingers anymore. She was rocking back and forth.

"Are you ADD or something?" Oz snapped.

"What?" Peyton asked quietly, tapping her fingers and rocking in unison.

"Why can't you sit still?" Oz asked, impatiently.

Peyton shrugged. "I can," she murmured. "...it just feels weird when I do."

"Yeah," Oz drawled. "That's normal." Peyton attempted to say something but Oz spoke at the same time and their voices mixed together in incomprehensible banter.

Alex glanced down at his watch. "Someone has to be the overachiever," he said loudly, over the arguing. There was five minutes until class started. "Everyday after today, someone has to go to class ten minutes early. Someone has to go to class directly on time - and someone has to be late everyday."

"I call dibbs on being normal," Peyton said quickly.

"Awww," Oz sighed. "Normal at last, eh?" Peyton made a mock smile, and covered her heart, as if it were in pain.

Alex shrugged. "I guess I'll go early then. And you'll be at least ten minutes late every day," he said looking at Oz who nodded.

"What about Bart?" Peyton asked.

Alex shrugged. "He truly will be the normal one of us. He is not a part of the experiment. He is what you call the control group. The normal one. The one that goes to class at varying times."

"The unmoldy bread," Peyton commented. Alex gave her weird look and then shrugged. Peyton glanced down at her watch. "Well it's time for us to go to class. Not bad, since we all have the first class together."

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