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Nine POV

Today is Friday, the last day of our first week back at school. I can't say it's been the best week, and school seems to have driven my almost non-existent relationship with Six backwards.

I used to see her indifferently, another one of the group. She has this fiery attitude that makes me want to kill her and kiss her at the same time. Wait, kiss her? I shrug off the thought. There is no way Six would ever want me in that way. And I should never see her like that.

I fall in to place next to her as we walk to school. For some reason, she acts herself at home, and then it is as if the moment she walks through those gates that a switch is flicked. Socialite Six is go, gone is our trusted friend.

I throw her a meaningful glance and she narrows her eyes at me, before casually flipping her hair from out underneath her backpack and averting her eyes. I clear my throat but she continues to ignore me, so I give up my efforts and fall back to talk to Eight. It's best to act indifferent, I've found. Though I'm not faring so well.

Eight and I ease in to conversation about our one shared class, English. I haven't done the assigned reading and he is giving me an abridged version of the text, should I fall prey to a slyly flung question from our teacher.

I am half listening to Eight, really trying to focus so I won't mess up in class, and also half watching Six as she struts through the gates. With the gates comes the change in attitude, and I'm not ready to deal with this version of Six just yet.

Eight and I pass through the metal gate, painted black to give the school a glossier finish, at least, that's what the stupid history pamphlet on this place told me. Honestly, the school is fine, classes are easy and engaging, it's more the people in it that I'm worried about.

We've let security severely drop since coming here, and I'm constantly on edge for fear of surprise Mog attack. I haven't installed any security devices, no cameras, no hidden microphones, or even trackers on suspicious individuals – not that I've come across any suspicious individuals yet.

I guess this is the way that Johnny and the others used to work, flying under the radar and only be prepared to run. It is a foreign approach to me, as I am used to doing whatever the hell I want and backing myself up to save my ass, but so far it seems to be working. Only time will tell, I guess, but I really don't want to be leaving the John Hancock Centre any time soon.

After shoving some books in to the tiny locker assigned to me, I meander down to Chem. My lab partner and I seem to have a mutual understanding. That is, no talking unless absolutely necessary. I'm sure Mark is a nice guy, but that doesn't mean I have to interact with him.

I settle in to my seat and put my face in my hands, sighing louder than I intended to.

"Are you alright?" a nasally voice penetrates my ear from the right, and inwardly I cringe.

I peek over to see an annoying looking girl snapping her gum at me. Her hair is an unnatural blonde colour and she looks nothing like Six. I harden my eyes and stare angrily at her, why does she care?

She cringes at my expression and moves back slightly. Satisfied that she is properly scared away, I shift my focus to the front of the room, and listen to the monotonous tones of my teacher. He scratches his balding head whilst explaining the aims of the lesson, and I almost throw my head in to my hands again, but stop myself, for fear of attracting attention from wannabe Barbie.

45 tedious minutes later I am done with Chem for the day, and make a move to my next class, History. I wind down the hallway until I reach room 3.1, my mind far away. So far away, that I bump in to someone on my way through the door, and look down to see Six's wide eyes peering up at me. I had no idea Six was in my History class. Why didn't she ever sit with me?

Her eyes are red rimmed, as if she has been crying, and her skin is deathly pale. She has lost her tanned glow and looks like the ghost of herself. I open my mouth to question her but she speaks first.

"Nine, I need to –" her voice is shaky and she is cut off by the History teacher.

"Come on kids, stop blocking the entrance." She says "Audrey, why don't you take a seat?" her smile is warm and friendly. And though I know she means well I honestly want to strangle her right now

"Okay" Six stammers before retreating to the back of the classroom.

I grunt and move for my own seat, I won't be getting any more information out of Six right now.

Mrs whatever her name is begins the class and I force myself to focus on the lesson. We started this unit by looking at the Cuban Missile Crisis, and today is our final lesson on it. She starts by summarising the Crisis as a whole, and opens for discussion Kennedy's role in the complication, after that I tune out.

I shift my gaze to the window and stare out on to the street. Oblivious people are pottering about, so caught up in their own business that they barely spare a glance for one another before rushing on to complete their task. Are my kind like this, always present but barely there? I sure hope not.

I hear movement and see Six collecting her books. She then rises from her chair and approaches the teacher, mumbling some excuse about feeling sick. Whatever her name is clearly feeling charitable today, and she offers Six a warm smile before nodding encouragingly. Six stumbles out of the room in a hurry.

The teacher's forehead creases, and a wrinkle of worry appears.

"Can anyone accompany Audrey to the health centre?" she asks.

I've never shot my hand up so fast in my life.

I catch up with Six down the hallway, and fall in to step beside her. She is pale and sweaty and looks like she needs a hug. I am the last person she needs right now.

Her demeanour has changed since this morning and she looks worried and scared, her eyes dart around, as if searching for an exit. We approach a toilet block and she shuffles in, I wait patiently outside for her.

Two minutes tick by, and I am about to check on her when I hear a strangled scream. I push the door open, she hadn't locked it, and scramble in to the cubicle, to find it empty. I tilt my head and scan for Six, when she slams me against the wall, tears streaming down her face.

"It's not me. It's not me. It's not me." She rattles off, sounding agitated.

"What? What the hell is going on" I question

"They're coming. Today. Get out! Get out!" she screams and then falls to the floor, head cradled in her hands.

I freeze, who is she talking about.

"Six?" I offer carefully.

She looks up at me with puffy eyes "Today is the day that you die".

And my heart breaks in to a million pieces.

What is going on with Six?
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