Disclaimer: I do not own Charmed or any of its characters. They all belong to Brad Kern and whoever. I do own Amarie, Melissa, Heather, and Grace. Please don't steal them.

Chapter 2

Chris looked around his side of the room one more time. Books lined the bookshelf, clothes were in the closet and dresser, and his laptop was on his desk. Wyatt's side of the room was a collection of half unpacked boxes. Both of them had a picture of their family propped up on their desks. Wyatt and Chris were sitting on a picnic bench, with Chris holding their youngest cousin Grace in his lap. Henry and Heather were perched precariously on the end of the table. Melissa was sitting in front of Wyatt, grinning mischievously at the camera. Amarie sat half hidden by Melissa; she had been pulled into the picture by Wyatt. Amarie had come to live with them three years before, and still didn't quite consider herself part of the family. All the children had a copy of the picture, even little Grace. Chris glanced over at his brother. Wyatt was stretched out on the small cross-section of his bed that was box-free, taking a nap. Chris shook his head in amusement. He considered waking his older brother, but the witch hadn't slept in forty-eight hours. He needed a break. The microwave beeped to the tune of some old TV show-Melissa had clearly been toying with it. The teenage girl had a disconcerting affinity with mechanical and electronic objects-she regularly dismantled and put back together every appliance that the family owned. She could also hold a live wire in her hands without any danger. Whenever Wyatt's car threatened to break down, he would coax Melissa into fixing it. She was usually amenable to bribes, fortunately. Chris read his email as he munched on pizza.

"Why must you be so productive," Wyatt mumbled.

"Someone has to be."

"You're a freak."

"Go back to sleep."

"I'm not awake." This last was at least partially true. Wyatt had an amazing ability to converse coherently in his sleep. When he was younger, Chris had been convinced that his brother could also vanquish demons in his sleep. Their mother had not been especially pleased with Chris' experiment regarding that theory. Wyatt hadn't been pleased either when Henry, the little tattletale, had told him about it. Wyatt never actually remembered these dream conversations, a fact that Chris had taken much advantage of over the years.

An earth-shattering ring distracted both of them. Mischievously, Chris sat back and let Wyatt answer. "What," he grumbled into the phone." Piper's voice could be heard on the other end of the line.

"I was sleeping." A pause.

"Yes, I'm unpacked, and Chris is freakishly organized."

His tone changed subtly. "Mom, you do not need to come up here. Don't bother Dad or Aunt Paige."

"Give me that," Chris snapped. He took the phone from his brother's hands.

"Mom, it's me. We've got nearly everything unpacked. We've printed out our schedules and checked the locations of the classrooms. We're about to fix dinner and then we need to run some errands. We'll call you in a few days, all right? Love you, bye." He hung up before Piper had time to do more than stammer a goodbye.

"I have got to learn how you do that," Wyatt stated in awe. Chris smirked a little. "What can I say? It's a gift."

"And since when do we have our schedules printed…" he trailed off as Chris held up copies of their schedules and maps of the school, with the important buildings highlighted. "You are a freak."

"Look, we can use this map to focus and get a sense of where the buildings are. We're maybe not as good as Henry, but we're pretty good."

Wyatt nodded approvingly. "You're a genius. A freaky one, but a genius nevertheless."

"Your stupidity brings it out in me." Chris yelped as Wyatt tackled him. He yelped louder when his shoulder found the thumbtack he had lost earlier. Wyatt laughed as he removed the offending object. "College is going to be great."

Wyatt discovered another reason why college existed the next day. Specifically, co-ed colleges. A beautiful redhead sat in front of him, apparently absorbed in the professor's lecture. Wyatt peeked at the girl's notes, and discovered with amusement that she had calculus notes on one page and some kind of story on the other. The professor was giving an overview of what they would be learning in class. About four people in the class were actually listening; the rest were miles away. After an interminable time, class was dismissed. "Hi, I'm Wyatt," he greeted the redhead. She shook his hand firmly, the touch of her skin cool. "Cassandra Weston." He wondered distractedly what Chris would pick up from her. "Are you new? I've never seen you here before."

"Do you know every student on campus?"

"I know most of the ones who would be taking an upper level math class," she retorted.

Wyatt grinned disarmingly. "Fair enough. Yes, I transferred in."

"Where'd you transfer from?"

"I took online courses for my first two years."

Cassandra looked curious but didn't ask, showing more perceptiveness than most people displayed. "Well, welcome to Tillman College" (1).

"I'm not sure where the music building is," Wyatt lied. "Can you show me where it is?"

"I'm headed in the opposite direction, but I can point it out to you. How many times did you get lost this morning?"

"I didn't get lost."

"Oh, I figured you must have, with you not being able to read the map and all." She gestured to the map he held, smirking.

He grinned sheepishly. "That was really stupid, wasn't it?"

"I was thinking more pathetic, but stupid will do."

"Do you ever eat lunch with pathetic guys?"

Her expression didn't alter, but Wyatt caught the flicker of amusement in her mind.

"I'm keeping you from your class." He stepped aside and gestured for her to go first. Amused, she left the classroom.

Chris turned his mind on automatic pilot as he sat through his freshman literature class. He had learned how to write a paper in high school; he didn't need a lecture on outlining. He amused himself by surveying the pretty girls in the room. Two were wearing engagement rings, so he ruled them out immediately. Who in their right mind would want to get married right out of high school? His attention locked on one girl with black hair. She was dressed casually, in faded blue jeans and a t-shirt. She was pretty enough, but that wasn't what caught his attention. There was something very strange about her. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. She turned her head and looked at him; he quickly looked away.

"Wyatt, I'm telling you, there's something weird about her?"

"I didn't think brunettes were your type, Chris," Wyatt teased his younger brother.

"Wyatt! What if she's a demon?"

"Don't you think your love life has enough problems without dating a demon?"

A slew of textbooks launched themselves at Wyatt. He fended them off easily, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "OK. Do you have any evidence, other than a creepy feeling, that she's a demon?"

"No," Chris answered irritably.

"So, keep an eye on her and try to find out about her. I'm not saying you're wrong," he overrode Chris' protest, "but we can't go making a vanquishing potion until we know for sure she's evil."

"What else would give me that feeling?"

"Just don't go off half-cocked, that's all I'm saying."

"Fine, I won't." Chris stalked over to his computer to do some research. Maybe he could figure out what the girl's name was. Wyatt did his best to hide his amusement-usually Chris was the one cautioning him to be careful. He looked speculatively at his homework. Did he really need to work on that calculus? No, he could do it tomorrow. He had more important things to do-like buy food. Both boys had promised their mother that they would actually eat regular food and not subsist on Ramen noodles and microwave pizza. He had a feeling that she didn't really expect them to survive on their own. Grabbing the car keys and a grocery list, he said goodbye to an oblivious Chris and left.

Wyatt stepped back as he studied the wide variety of cereals. He was seriously tempted to buy Chocolate Crisps just to see Chris gag, but the thought of eating a bowl of the stuff in the morning was too horrible to contemplate. "Ow!" An indignant female voice interrupted his thoughts as he took a step back. He turned to see Cassandra Weston's blazing grey eyes. "Sorry, I didn't see you."

"Well, you should have looked!" Her sharp tone irritated Wyatt-it had been an accident.

"It's a pity your eyes don't work," he retaliated. She started to say something else, then grinned suddenly. "Sorry, I shouldn't have gotten that mad. It's been a long day." She looked at his groceries. "What, no Ramen noodles?"

"My mom's a former chef. I would hate to be disowned," he laughed.

"Funny, sometimes I think I wouldn't mind it." Her laugh was forced.

"Besides, Ramen noodles are disgusting."

"I'd have to agree with you there," Cassandra admitted. "I eat large quantities of seashell noodles, though, so I'm not sure I can criticize anyone's noodle-eating habits."

"Please tell me you put sauce or cheese on them."

"Usually not."

"Well, there are weirder habits. My sister eats frozen vegetables."

"What's weird about that?"

"Most people thaw them first. Amarie just grabs them out of the bags in the freezer and eats them."

Cassandra laughed out loud. "I, on the other hand, hardly ever eat vegetables. I prefer fruit."

Her phone buzzed, startling them both. Her face paled a little as she saw the name. "Something wrong," Wyatt asked quietly.

She shook her head as she answered. "Hello?" Her posture stiffened as she listened. "I'm fine. I got all my stuff moved in yesterday."

She listened for a minute more. "I'll do that. Talk to you later."

She glanced up at Wyatt. "I have to go. I'll see you later." She walked away without any further comment.

That was strange, Wyatt thought. Shrugging his shoulders, he continued shopping. He would solve the mystery of Cassandra Weston later.

A/N: As far as I know, Tillman College does not exist. If it does, any similarity in name or anything else is unintentional.