Devil XV goes by Exvee here. Literally X V.

THE DEVIL: Ravage, violence, vehemence, extraordinary efforts, force, fatality; that which is predestined but is not for this reason evil. Reversed: Evil fatality, weakness, pettiness, blindness.

He looked at the bookbag in his hands with the strangest feeling of confusion. It was his backpack– name stitched on by someone, the embroidery picture perfect– but he didn't quite feel like he had packed it. Like, he was informed it was his, but he had absolutely no relation to the thing.

Hell, the whole house felt a little strange. It didn't feel like home. Had his parents moved recently…?

The doorbell rang, distracting him from those thoughts. He threw the backpack over one shoulder and rushed to the front door. Sneaking a peak through a window, he saw a head of black hair that was simultaneously foreign and familiar.

Huh, that was interesting. He had the strangest feeling he had seen heterochromia before– red and yellow– but he couldn't quite remember where. Maybe it was the girl, considering the expectant look she gave him. "I see you there, Andrei. Is leaving a girl to wait your idea of a good time?"

"Sorry!"

He opened the door, and the girl stepped inside, giving him a quick once over. "At least you've got your uniform on. There's only so much I'm willing to do for you, Andy." She stepped closer to him. "And you still can't put a tie on to save your life. This school is wasted on you."

"School?" He asked.

"Very funny, Andy. Do you think I'm wearing this for you?" She gestured down, at the fancy looking school uniform she wore. Pleated plaid skirt, white shirt, the whole shebang.

"School. Yeah. Are we taking the bus?"

"We're walking."

And so they did, leaving a pair of very nice houses behind as they walked down lovely streets. Carefully maintained lawns, pristine bushes… they were clearly in a good part of town. Other students were walking by as well: two girls (a bubbly blonde and a gal with pink hair) smiled and waved at him from the other side of the road.

At the next crossing, they rushed over. "Heya, Andy! Exvee!"

"Hi." He greeted the two, a little unsure of who they were, exactly. Thankfully, he seemed to have a name for his neighbor. Exvee. Nickname, he supposed.

The blonde hugged Exvee. "It's good to see you, girl!"

"It's been two days, Astoria."

"Two days without my super cute underclassman is too long!"

Exvee didn't seem too happy with the situation, but she made no effort to squirm her way loose. "... We shouldn't be late. Sara's got her attendance to worry about."

The pink-haired girl, Saratoga, puffed her cheeks out in a pout. "I have perfect attendance, I'll have you know. Just like my big sis!"

"Hence you worrying," Exvee remarked. "That and knowing the teachers wouldn't find your pranks nearly as funny if you were skipping."

"Oh, that reminds me!" She turned to look at him. "Andy! Can you do little old me a tiny favor?"

"I can, but should I?"

"I'll make it worth your while~" She grinned.

"I'll make it worth your while if you don't," Exvee responded.

"Asty can back me up. She agrees it's hilarious, right?"

The school was big and fancy: a gate to an enclosed yard with big, blue shingle buildings in some old-timey style. Girls and boys lingered in the yard, laughing and chatting with each other. A lot of people waved, and their little group waved back.

The insides of the building were filled with old-fashioned paintings– someone had a naval history obsession– and photographs of previous alumni. Saratoga took an extra moment to gaze at a photograph of a pink-haired young woman, before rushing to keep up with them as they marched to class.

Fortunately, Andrei had the same classes as Exvee and Saratoga (Astoria took a less accelerated course) so he could just follow their lead. Hopefully, there wouldn't be any pop quizzes.

The first class of the day was with Miss Champagne, a towering woman with hair like cornflowers and a long, willowy figure. She leaned in her chair, dosing, with long legs kicked out. He really tried to ignore the way her suit flattered her. Really.

Exvee noticed. "My my, Andy, you're likely to make a girl jealous, looking at other women like that."

"Sorry."

The moment the bell rang, Miss Champagne rose from her seat and started talking. No need to check notes, just straight to the chalkboard.

"A certain theory of the universe's structure has grown more popular in recent times. The theory argues that the world we live in now is a digital construct. Actual soundness of the theory aside, it is the latest in a long tradition of philosophical skepticism."

"The purpose of any such scenario is questioning our assumptions. Our striving for our destinies, however, we chose to define them… what meaning does it have, assuming our reality is not real? Perhaps more pressingly, can we know anything of this true reality?"

"In antiquity, the philosopher Plato composed his Allegory of the Cave, proposing a sort of grotto where prisoners are kept in ignorant captivity, their exposure to reality coming from the shadows of puppets. Their life is mere perception of shadows until a prisoner is liberated from the cave. Until he is educated."

"Plato saw this earth, and our material surroundings, as the shadows, filtered through the meager lens of mere human senses. The sciences, reason, the ideal Platonic forms our world is a pale emulation of– these are the daylit world."

She could really get talking. He hadn't expected someone so chatty when he first saw Miss Champagne dosing before her class. However, she didn't put much down with chalk. Andrei looked around, saw most everyone else writing, and started scribbling his own notes.

"A question goes unanswered in both scenarios: who is the captor, the perfidious force who lets us partake in only a watered-down reality, a meager trickle? Descartes proposed a demon. Plato's scenario does not blame any real captor, beyond the ignorance of those poor fools left grasping at shadows. Does a simulation not imply a writer of such a simulation and a computer to process it?"

"Questions of whether or not true consciousness can be simulated aside, the computer must be a construction of remarkable complexity, requiring parts beyond counting, or means of computation we cannot currently utilize. Does the true reality allow for such a system to exist? Why make it?"

"One theory my colleagues find interesting is that of a mind. Could a sufficiently powerful mind not perform such calculations? If so, in what reality does the mind exist? Perhaps one could argue the mind is inherently existent. That it is, in the deep, theological sense. Miss Richelieu might call it the mind of God."

"She certainly doesn't do simple, does she?"

"It's not a true Champagne lecture without an existential crisis," Exvee remarked.

"Do you think we're in a simulation, Exvee?" Saratoga asked.

"Do we have the means to prove we aren't?"

"Well if we can't prove it, I don't see much point in worrying," Saratoga loosened her own tie, letting out a long sigh.

(Honestly, he was feeling a touch warm himself. It was a very sunny day.)

"It's only been one class," Andrei noted.

"But it's the one class between us and PE. I've gotta stay limber!"

"So you can run away from all the people you prank?"

"A real singer is like an athlete, yeah? It's not easy."

"You sing?" Andrei asked.

"I sing?" Saratoga asked, "I serenade you last week, and this is the treatment I get? You're just asking for hot sauce in your lunch, buddy!"

"I'm sorry."

"Well, maybe you can make it up to me…" Saratoga hummed. "You do that favor I mentioned this morning to start with, to start with."

"So you can scapegoat him and dodge detention? I don't think so." Exvee responded.

Astoria, the blonde from their morning walk, intercepted them and caught the last bit of the conversation. "Ugh, don't even talk about detention. Koln was about two seconds from giving me another one."

Saratoga sighed. "Because you never do the readings, baby."

"Because I've got kid sisters. Vince doesn't give me quiet time, and when I do read it's just… bleh."

"The Odyssey isn't bleh, Asty!"

Coach Baltimore was a bit young, but she really seemed enthusiastic about the whole thing. A lot of the other boys were enthusiastic about her, that was certain.

She brought them outside, to a big track around a football field. Lots of stands and hedges on the periphery, along with clay tennis courts and a big pool.

They took their positions on the track, and Baltimore shouted to them: "Alright kids, you know the drill: sub eight mile, and don't have to do a mile run next week!"

She started a timer and they shot off. Well, some of them shot off, and some tried to keep a proper pace. A few had running paces that were practically sprints.

Exvee, Sara, and Astoria were a cut above the rest, easily lapping Andrei. While he was struggling through his third, they each finished their fourth and final lap.

Baltimore glowed with pride. "Good job! Just don't slack off, alright?"

All three grinned at him and waved as he kept on running. With their encouragement, he managed a final spurt of speed that got him across the line with a fair sub-ten-minute time. (He felt like he could have done better…)

He collapsed into a bleacher, panting heavily, and someone gave him a bottle of water. "Thanks," he gasped.

"You're welcome," Exvee said. "I'm glad to help."

"You're a saint," he sighed.

"I wouldn't say that, Andy." She chuckled, "But I like to think I'm good at helping people. Built for it, even."

"Built for it?" What did she mean by that? That was a strange way of putting it, yet it almost seemed correct…

"Well, I'd make a good cheerleader, don't you think? Cute enough for it?"

"Definitely." He responded without a second thought.

Exvee guffawed. "Didn't even have to think. Were you already imagining us in tiny little skirts?"

The highlight of the day after that point was probably U-73 accidentally gassing them out of the chemistry lab. Well, was it accidental? He had heard rumors that a sufficient bribe could get you a recipe for a classroom-clearing accident. Her time in school saw more than a dozen new rules added to the lab.

But that wasn't his concern, not when they had a club to get to. Exvee dragged him to an out-of-the-way classroom, where Saratoga and Astoria waited… although that wasn't nearly as surprising as Miss Champagne sprawled out in one of the chairs.

"What's she doing here?"

"Club supervisor," Astoria explained, "like that means anything."

"What do you mean?"

"She supervises about as much as I play chess, you know?"

"Chess club?"

"Yep!" Saratoga chirped. "You wanna play a round?"

"... Sure." He was vaguely familiar with the rules.

But not familiar enough, it seemed. Saratoga smoked him as Exvee watched and Astoria worked her way through the snack budget. It was a pretty sweet arrangement, even if he felt a fool for being so thoroughly trounced.

After a while of good old-fashioned fooling around, they decided to go home. Champagne was left to her quiet sleep– Exvee tossed a blanket on her and locked the door so she wouldn't be disturbed– and Saratoga had peeled off along with Astoria to help her with the readings (and the sibling watching).

That left him and Exvee, walking down a quiet road as the sun set and painted everything orange and gold. After Saratoga and Astoria were a ways behind him, he felt her hand brushing his.

"Exvee?"

"You're not afraid to take my hand, are you?"

"Why's your hand so cold?" He gasped.

"I've always had cold hands." She replied.

"You did?"

"We've done this before. I didn't say anything at school, but it really does seem like you're struggling to remember things, Andy."

"I tried to not bring attention to it."

"You're too self-sacrificing. If there's something wrong, it should be redressed. The two of us have to look out for each other."

"We do?"

"We do. I'd like to think it's a bit more than neighborly though, yeah?" She smiled at him.

They reached their houses, which looked just the same as they did in the morning. No lights on, no cars in either garage, just as picture-perfect as they were before school. His grip on her hand loosened before she caught him. "What do you think you're doing Andy?"

"Going home?"

"Before dinner? You think I'd leave you to your cooking?"

"Well, wouldn't my folks…"

"They're out of the country on business, if you don't remember."

"That's…" pretty unrealistic, his parents must trust him a whole awful lot, "... good to know. And yours don't mind?"

"Single mom, miserable job with long hours. She does her best for me."

"Are there any siblings I should know about?"

"Nope."

"So we're eating together, at your place?"

"That's the plan. You mind gyros?"

"I really appreciate this." He said, looking up from his ocean plate. "I owe you for this."

"You can pay me back by working on homework with me, how about that?"

"That doesn't feel like enough."

"It's better than an empty house." She replied. "It's not like you're the only beneficiary. I need to eat too."

"You could've cooked for one."

"But I didn't, because I prefer eating with you."

"Thanks. I swear, I've been in some sort of state all day. You've been a tremendous help."

"Mhmmm. Like I said, you can repay me with some homework help."

The sun had sunk under the horizon, and the hour had grown quite late. It felt like an indecent time to be staying late, even if she was his neighbor.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. We're partway through the Odyssey, and I'd like you to read to me."

"You want me to read to you?"

"The ancients performed it. They sung with the lyre. We were at the land of the Lotus Eaters, as I recall…"

She watched him, never taking notes, just listened as he tried to emulate however the ancients would have done it. Like how Shakespeare was best performed. But he wasn't at the Globe, or even in an amphitheater. He had a rapt audience of one, who absorbed every last word as she laid back on the couch.

(Do not even consider the way that skirt flattered her–)

"Maybe we shouldn't be…"

"Maybe other people think we shouldn't." She breathed. "But I like to think of myself as a bit… devilish. Well, technically, I am Devil, not Exvee. Weird name, I know… but it says I'm made to break rules, sweetheart."

And was the devil not the father of lies?

I really liked the idea of a literal girl next door Devil XV since her line in the popularity poll. Anzeel was right about her being diabetes-level cute.