The long cream-colored halls were bustling with chatter, echoing with bellowing laughter and giggles. Footsteps and slamming lockers could also be heard, but mostly the chatter. People in this place were loud. People in this place were… unique. All sorts of people moved through these halls; thin, pudgy, fat, brawny, short, tall, maybe even normal. Well, no, scratch normal. No one's normal. Especially not me.

I, with my frosty white hair and long, white-tipped eyelashes am far from normal. I, a Junior girl who stands taller than or as tall as most of the Senior boys, am definitely not normal. I, with my eyes as cold and clear as ice chips, am not, nor have I ever been, normal. I'm not the kind of chick you'd expect to go to school with a bunch of preppy, image-obsessed humans. No, I'm not referring to my race in the third person. I'm no human. Not exactly.

I know what you're thinking. I've watched movies. I'm not an alien. I'm not human… I'm part human. Ninety-four percent human. Three percent bird. One percent ice. Maybe that explains why I'm so cold. Cold to the core, cold to the flesh. I was a walking ice cube. In all technicality, two percent of me isn't living. It doesn't exist. On the bright side, I don't feel as much pain as the other humans. I'm a fight champ in the school.

I know this sounds unusual. But I know you've heard this before. I can fly. I have wings. White wings. The wings have an eighteen foot wingspan. Impressive. I know. Oh, yeah, what's not so impressive is that I molt. For those of you who aren't familiar with bird terms, that means I shed my feathers. Oh, yeah, I shed all over the school. Don't laugh. You try it.

Okay, really, it's hard enough being a super tall freak in a public school without shedding feathers all over the floor. I just walk down the hall and there they go, flying off to who knows where. It's not fair that I can actually get suspended for molting. It's not like I can help that. It's in my DNA.

I pressed myself between the students, occupied by my own thoughts, moving quickly through the halls. My wings were pressed to my body, form-fitting, and sleek. Oh, I could hear every comment that was said behind my back. It got worse the older I grew. But I don't care. I gossip, too.

A locker slammed shut to my right, and I glanced over to catch the eyes of my friend whose eyes were locked on my wings. Cole Demp had always been enthralled by my wings, and I had always scolded him for staring, but with my mind drifting like today, I figured, hey, what the heck? I'd stare if I was him.

Catching my gaze, Cole glanced away, looking shameful, but he came to my side like a loyal friend would and tried to strike up a conversation.

"I haven't seen you in a few months," he commented. Then, with a dry smile, he added, "We all thought you'd flown south for the winter."

I let out a gruff chuckle, but I wasn't amused. He was always making cracks like that. Another thing that couldn't be helped.

Noticing that there was silence, Cole smiled awkwardly and said, "It's good to see you, Icy."

I gave him a half-smile in return. "Same to you."

"How've you been?" Cole asked. Conversation wasn't my forte. I noticed that he didn't ask where I was. He knew how I would've reacted. That was good. I didn't want to share.

"Can't really complain. It's like it always was," I answered. "I still want to kick the crud out of all the 'popular' people."

Cole snickered and smiled. His mother was a dentist; he'd always had a gorgeous, dazzling smile, but I was never impressed. He sighed and replied fondly, "You never change. It's just like you."

I forced a laugh, but I set up my barriers now, sinking back into my world. Yeah. It was just like me. Someone dear to me had once referred to me as a viper. I asked him what he meant, and for half a year he didn't answer. Finally, though, he explained that I was charming and hypnotic, but I was lethal. I wouldn't deny that. I was rebellious and cold, but at the same time I was 'gorgeous.' I don't know what he was talking about.

Oh, yeah, there's a shocker. A girl with wings being gorgeous? Most guys would say that crap just so they can get a girlfriend. But I know this guy wasn't lying to me. He wouldn't just say it; he meant it. Who's this mystery man? His name is Jeb Batchedler.

Maybe somebody else's story is coming to mind now. Or maybe it isn't. It depends on how much you care about current events. Most kids have read Max's warnings, her little journal or Fang's blog about the whole 'School taking over the world' thing. I agree that the School's bad. But I wouldn't try to kill anybody, or anything, about it. No duh I've heard of Maximum Ride. I'd have to be crazy to not have. She's a girl like me with wings. But she's not like me. I'm better.

I don't have to deal with the misery of emotions like she and her flock do. No issues with bleeding out. No problems with fighting. I can break my hand and keep swinging. I'll share a little tidbit with you; my bones are made of ice. Hollow ice. Light, and self-fixing. If my wrist breaks, the bones will melt, the water will shift, and then it'll freeze up again, just as strong as ever. Of course, this gives me a bit of a weakness. Heat. I sort of hate the sun, but don't most people?

Still, like I said, I'm better than Maximum. If I could be taken out by light, well, then, I'd be dead by now. But the sun can't get the best of me. I have a secret weapon. Get on your reading glasses and pay attention, because this is where it gets interesting. This is where it gets real cool… get it?

My body temperature can rise or lower twenty degrees in under three seconds. How? I have two hearts. One was implanted into my embryo, and the other is natural. All my red blood recedes from my veins with a fleeting thought, pooling up into my red heart, and the second heart on the right side of my body which stores a special type of water begins to pump, and in seconds I'm cooled off. If I get too cold, my hearts automatically switch back, unless I specifically 'tell' them not to. Although I've never gotten too cold.

You remember what I said about emotions, how I don't have to suffer their misery? That's a harder concept to explain. It'll make sense when I finish explaining. You see, the people who 'created' me, Icy Harvenger, the 'Snow Angel,' chose to dissect my brain when I was only, like, four. Don't freak out. I'll explain. They didn't dissect every little piece. Just the part that allows you human people to feel happy, sad, angry, loving, etcetera.

I was only four, so you've got to understand how afraid I was, sitting with some people doing a biopsy and lobotomy of my emotions. But Jeb was there, and his presence just made everything seem right. Normal. Oh, yeah, I was awake while they probed through my skull. It's not like I could've felt anything.

After the surgery, Jeb told me that I had a special ability, the ability to heal using my ice bones. He said that my ability had prevented them from completely removing my emotions, like they'd wanted, but instead lessened their intensity, mostly leaving the negative emotions. I quickly noticed the change.

On most days, where I'd be poked and prodded with needles till I passed out, I'd have cried and wailed in fear and sadness. But afterwards I didn't feel anything. I'd just scream at the scientists. I'd yell how unfair it was that I had to lie under a blinding light for hours on end. Jeb had to teach me to control my anger after I decked a chick in the face for defying me.

So, yeah, that's basically me. Oh, you've noticed that the numbers don't quite add up. Ninety-eight percent complete. Right? And you're wondering where the other two percent of me is. I'm just going with the excuse that ninety-eight is the new one hundred.

I blinked as Cole's elbow slammed into my ribs. I growled, and he continued with a grunt, "Hey, Icy, you missed your classroom!"

I whirled around on my heel, my eyes narrowed and furious. "Thanks," I muttered as I began to stalk back to the class. I lifted my head to see the familiar face of my science teacher, Mr. Chade, giving me a wry smile and tapping his digital wristwatch. I bit my lip and picked up the pace, still pushing between other students who began to rush to their classes.

As I walked past my teacher, he patted my back between my wings, slightly pushing me in the door towards my seat. The motion wasn't uncommon, nor was it more than a simple nudge. He was the school counselor, and a good friend.

He followed me in the classroom, then veered off to his desk, sitting tall and straight in his chair to check his E-Mails until ten minutes after the bell rang. In that time, the students would read to themselves, or quietly talk to their neighbors. I moved over to my desk in the back of the room, flopping down into the chair just as the bell rang, setting down my binder and picking up my book. I'm not all about the latest trends, but I can't really complain about Twilight. It's got vampires.

I'd read about fifty or so pages within seven minutes when I felt a piece of paper land in my hair. Without lifting my eyes, I reached up with my thin hand, plucking the paper off a long white strand of hair and letting it drop to the floor.

My wings twitched, then flexed and began to outstretch to their full length. The tips of my wings barely missed the opposite walls, and the slim, sparkling white feathers stretched and splayed, towering over the classroom. With my enhanced hearing I could make out the voices of three boys, one whimpering in fear, and the other two laughing nervously.

I lifted my bored and indifferent eyes to the one who was afraid, a scowl on my face. Do you really want to do that?

The selected boy shifted uncomfortably under my cold gaze, his eyes uneasy, his face flushing as fear began to course through him. I was a very scary person, I'd bet. He peeled his eyes away from mine, tapping his pencil nervously on his desk and staring at the front of the room where Mr. Chade now stood. My gaze followed the kid's, and I absently reached for my bookmark and awaited Mr. Chade's teaching.

"Today we are studying human reproduction." A hurricane of growls and groans flooded over Mr. Chade, and his cold eyes raked over every student. They grew deathly silent. He continued, "This unit will continue until next Friday. If you or your parents have questions or comments, you all have my number."

I leaned back in my chair, folding my wings in, my icy eyes burning into Mr. Chade's skull. At first, I was sort of paying attention, but then all interest faded away. After five minutes, I wanted to bang my head on my desk and scream.

Slowly, inconspicuously, I reached into my binder and pulled out a notebook with a vintage cover and a pencil. I set the notebook on my lap so that the spine was on my knees, and I glanced up to see Mr. Chade rambling on about the unthinkable. I lowered my face once more to the notebook, flipping it open to reveal the first, and last, page.

Instead of opening up to a piece of lined paper, or even blank paper, it revealed a thick sheet a translucent material. I set the sheet on the cover, and then could be seen a white flashing cursor, like what one would see when typing. I waved my hand over the bottom cover, and a holographic keyboard faded into existence beneath my fingertips. Suddenly, on the upper sheet of paper, words appeared.

HELLO, ICY. HOW'S SCHOOL?

I couldn't help but smile. I could always put his voice to his writing. It was Jeb. I gently poked at the practically transparent keys, not touching the cover and making no sound.

GOOD ENOUGH. I'M LEARNING ABOUT HUMAN REPRODUCTION. YAY.

I swore I could hear amusement in his reply.

WHAT IS LIFE WITHOUT LOVE?

I didn't bother to think about it, and I didn't want to, but I had to admit that without love I wouldn't exist. Yuck.

WHEN ARE YOU COMING TO BRING ME HOME, JEB?

"Miss Harvenger?"

My head snapped up as Mr. Chade called my name. My eyes narrowed. "Yes?" I wasn't embarrassed that he'd called on me during sex-ed. I didn't fear getting in trouble. I have no troubles with my emotions. Truth be told, I was mad. He had no right to burst into the conversation that he had no idea I was having.

YES HE DOES. HE'S YOUR TEACHER, AND A GOOD FRIEND.

My eyes flickered to the screen for half a second, and I frowned at Jeb's response. Somehow he always knew what I was thinking. It was kind of creepy.

"Miss Harvenger, you aren't paying attention," Mr. Chade mused. "What are the—" He cut off as a soft ringing began to sound from the intercom, repetitive and annoying. Under his breath, I could hear Mr. Chade murmur, "I was not alerted of a lock-down drill today…"

Mr. Chade's class was one of the few in the very center of the school, one of the few classes with only two doors to get in or out. Naturally, that meant it had no windows. On the bright side, that meant less work for the students in the class.

Mr. Chade slid over to the light switch behind his desk, and he flipped it to off silently. My eyes quickly adjusted to the shadows. Another benefit of being a freak is that my eyes can collect a single particle of light and change it to day-time vision. I could see every detail on the students' faces, and their wide, fearful eyes. They knew something wasn't right. And so did I. I glanced at the screen of my notebook and typed quickly.

JEB, WHAT'S GOING ON AT THE SCHOOL?

The response was almost instant. My heart began to race.

YOU NEED TO GET OUT OF THAT PLACE. NOW. I'M COMING TO GET YOU.

I could tell by how hard my eyes were straining that it was pitch black in the classroom, and in all the rest of the school. Good. That meant no one could see me leaving.

I stood from my chair quickly and silently, like a ghost rising from a grave, keeping my wings tightly pressed against my body like earlier. I prayed that the tips of my wings wouldn't brush anyone's shoulders or neck and startle them. That would blow my cover. I weaved between the desks and the bookshelves till I reached the door, keeping my notebook close to my belly. I reached for the handle of the door, turned it slowly, and pushed outward, emerging into the hall.

As I suspected, the rest of the school was just as dark as the class had been. The halls echoed with my footsteps, and my breathing. The cold was silent, and haunting. Pressure began building in my skull, from the strain of keeping the night-sight going. I hadn't trained it much since I learned I had it.

I glanced from side to side once or twice as I headed for an exit, staying close to the center of the hallway to give me space to maneuver. I heard several sets of footsteps from across the school, and my eyes narrowed, and I stared around uneasily. I slowed to a halt and whirled around, staring through the shadows.

The pain in my skull was growing merciless and intense. I turned to my right, staring down a hall to the way out. Bingo. Light flooded from the door, and I allowed my brain a rest, allowing my vision to go almost black.

A chill crawled up my spine, and their was hot breath in my ear. A gravelly voice hissed, "Wrong move, dove."

I was a predictive fighter. Most fighters would first aim a blow to the head, attempting to knock their victim into unconsciousness, making a shorter and easier fight. I followed my instinct, as I always did, and I ducked, just as something slashed through the air, cutting through the air itself. I knew what would come next; it would be a sweep kick to knock me onto my back. I pushed off the ground with my legs, lashing my wings to make one good, heavy beat. I felt the top of my head touch the ceiling, and I knew it would be safer up top than down on the ground. I spread my wings and kept them flapping so I was suspended above my adversary's head.

"Clever girl," the creature mused in its deep, gruff voice. I still couldn't see, and it would only make concentrating on fighting harder. All around I could hear the steps and quiet hissing cackles from several creatures much like my attacker. And by all around I did mean above my head, too.

I ducked under the ceiling panel with a surprised gasp just as something broke through, falling to the floor beneath me with a snarl. Debris showered my head, and I flinched, instinctively moving downward, away from the falling ceiling panel, and right into the reach of my attackers.

The first attacker grasped my ankle with what felt like hooked claws, yanking me to the ground and slamming me down on the floor. Oh, yeah, sure my bones can heal in a flash, but my organs and muscle are still organs and muscle. They heal just a few days faster than a normal human's do.

My head rang as he threw me to the ground, hearing tile break underneath my skull, but now wasn't the time to cry out in pain. I rolled back, onto my upper back, and pushed off of the grounds with my wings and hands, my legs stretched out in front of me. I felt one foot connect with the jaw of my attacker, an angular, bony jaw, and he flew backwards with an evil hiss. Through all this I still had my notebook clutched in my hand. I wouldn't let these rancid loons find Jeb.

I landed lightly several feet away, and then I shot for the hole in the ceiling. The enemies would attack and bring me down if I gave them a chance, and I would try to keep that possibility to a minimum. I scrambled up through the hole in the ceiling, my wings almost unable to fit through, and I rose to my feet, gazing around into the shadows. There was a skylight above my head, so thankfully this room was brighter than the halls. But still, a presence lingered, stalking me as it moved like a shadow over the ceiling panels. I could feel warmth radiating from where the creature was. I knew where he was, not what he was, or what he was planning. He could see me, and I couldn't see him, and that was bad business.

After several moments of stillness, I narrowed my eyes, and my night vision flickered back to life. Stalking forward from behind several boxes was something like a wolf, but something so different from a wolf that I couldn't help but blink in shock several times. The creature had long, matted, prickly gray-brown fur and big, heavy paws with claws like talons. Its teeth were long and sharp like daggers, clean and white. Its eyes were narrow slits of hatred and bloodlust. The creature leaned back to its haunches, then leaped for me in the darkness.

I dodged a second before it hit—thank God for quick reaction time—and watched it slam into another pile of heavy wooden crates behind me. It struggled, but it was buried beneath several hundred pounds of weight. It thrashed and snarled, scrabbling feebly at the floor. I couldn't help but smile devilishly, and I stared up at the skylight.

"Time to go," I mused to myself, shooting off the ground and breaking through the window with my rock-hard skull. People call people numb-skulls, but they've never broken through a window using only their head while climbing in vertical ascension at approximately ninety miles an hour. Once a fair distance above the school, my night vision stopped working, and I froze, practically hovering in mid-air and staring, horrified, down through the broken skylight. My hands were empty.

I patted myself over quickly, searching for my notebook, and an irritation welled up inside of me. My notebook was gone. I'd left my notebook in the monster-infested school. I could only assume I'd lost it when I flew up through the hole in the ceiling and pulled myself through. I could remember having it through the jump, but after that I must have lost my grip on it or set it down.

That was my only communication with Jeb. I bit my lip. He was going to kill me. Then I swallowed hard. He couldn't kill me if the monsters did first. With that final fleeting thought, I plunged straight down into the school the face the darkness.