One of the things I love about my mom is that she's so down to earth. She understands that sometimes, I really can't be a normal kid.
This may have something to do with my wings.
But still, she tries her best. She accepts that I honestly can't go anywhere without my flock – a group of kids I've lived with forever, and like me, happen to have the wing attachment. We were always together, every since our torture years back at the school. Me, Max, Fang and Iggy are all in the fourteenish range. Nudge, the chatterbox, is about eleven. Gazzy, Iggy's partner in crime is only eight, and his sister Angel, our resident mind reader/mind controller/generally scary girl, is just six. Though only Gazzy and Angel are actually related, we're all family anyway. We've protected each other, flew together, and I'm in charge of it all, sorta. Lately my role as "mom" has been taken over by my actual mother, Dr. Martinez. And she's actually pretty good at keeping order.
Like I said, she's pretty down to earth. Which is why I was completely shocked when she threw the school suggestion out there.
"I just think you might benefit from it?" I could tell she felt kinda guilty about saying it. The expressions on our faces were pretty horrendous. Still, she should know better than anyone that for us, hearing the world school is akin to hearing the words fiery hellish pits of doom. For a starter.
I put down my fork gently.
"Mom," I said, getting a little pleasure out of the word. "We've, um, tried school before. And it really, really, didn't work."
She sighed, but didn't argue the point. Instead, she went to the kitchen and came out with – chocolate chip cookies?
Well that was just playing dirty.
So I'd allowed myself to be talked into it.
School.
Again