"Alrighty, everyone to bed!  First day of school tomorrow!"  My announcement was met with groans all around as eight kids ranging in age from seven to eighteen began trudging out of the rec room and off to bed.  Henry, the only kid in the group older than me, helped me herd all of them out of the room, making sure none tried to sneak back in.  Even though Henry was a few months, and a grade, older than me, he still took orders.  Maybe it was because I'd been here longer, or because I had a way of handling all the kids.  At seventeen I was the only teenager I knew with a full-time job, who was self-sufficient and who lived on their own.  Henry lived at the boarding house, same as me, but his only job was mowing the grass in the summer, raking leaves in the fall, and shoveling the driveway and patio in the winter.

    My job, however, was to take care of all the other kids here.  Everyone school-age was part of my job.  Including myself and Henry.  During school season I was responsible for getting all of us to and from school, on time.  Getting us to bed early enough.  Calling in sick for those that were, and other things like that.  I'd gotten my permit over the summer and was eager to get my license as soon as possible, it would be infinitely simpler to transport all of us in the "bus" when one of the adults didn't have to come shuttle us back and forth.  The "bus" was one of those old VW vans that can hold, like, ten people.

    The house had four communal vehicles that we could all borrow and use.  We had a truck and two cars besides the bus.  Usually Davie commandeered one of the cars, seeing as it used to be his, so the others all sat in the car-port when not in use, as well as the cars owned by the boarders.  The bus was more or less set aside for school transportation, as the actual school bus didn't come out here.  The boarding house was on the outskirts of town, way out of the way of the bus routes, mail-man and, unfortunately, trash collection.  That was half the reason for the truck, we took all the trash to the dump every Saturday.

    It was almost like our own little world out here.  To get to the house you drove down this one road for what seemed like forever 'til you got to an even smaller road cutting through the woods.  Down that second road, at the end, was the house.  Being so far outside of town had it's perks.  We could see the sky really well, and there was little to no noise pollution.  The only difficulties were that everything was so far away.  Like school.

    There was a public school system that all of us at the house went to.  There were one or two private schools, but, for starters, none of us could afford that, and secondly, we liked feeling closer by being in the same school.  However, as we lived so far out of the city limits, we had to wake up super early every morning to get there on time.  Hence, why we were going off to bed at 8:30, no exceptions.  As the last of the kids walked into their room Henry turned to me.  "You excited for junior year?"

    I smiled.  "Yeah, actually.  You excited to be a senior?"

    He laughed and rubbed the back of his head.  "Kinda.  It's weird to think that next year I won't be going."

    "Yeah, but you'll still be here."  I walked over to my door and waved good-night to him as he headed towards the staircase.  "Remember, 5:45.  We gotta make sure all them are up by 6:30 or we're not gonna get there on time."

    "Ok.  Hey who's drivin' tomorrow?"

    "Davie, 'night."

    "Night."  he waved back as he headed up the stairs, his room being on the second floor.  I stepped through my door, closing it softly behind me.  I changed into my pajamas and set my alarm-clock for 5:30am, making sure I had ample time to wake up and be ready, knowing full well I'd sleep through the first few times it went off.  I sighed contentedly as I slipped underneath my covers.  Tomorrow's a new year.  A smile lit my face as I drifted off to sleep.

2: A new year

    The third time my alarm went off I finally reached out and turned it off.  "I'm up, I'm up," I said quietly to myself.  Running my hands over my face to wake me up some more, I turned on my light, noting that the outside world was still dark.  I smiled anyway.  First day of junior year.  I got myself ready, making sure that I'd packed all my notebooks and such before I grabbed my bag and headed towards the kitchen, knocking on doors as I went.  "Breakfast in ten."  I opened a few doors, those belonging to the heavier sleepers, and allowing light to land on their faces, one of the only ways I knew to make sure they woke up.

    By the time I made it to the kitchen I noticed that Henry was already up and had started getting out bowls and setting the cereal containers on the counter.  That's how we did breakfast here.  We would get all the utensils out and each of the kids would pour their own bowl.  I picked up a bowl for myself - filling it with Cap-N-Crunch.  I'd spent too much of my life eating bland cardboard, I always chose the most sugar-filled cereal there was... though there was a box of Krave farther down the counter.  I'll try that tomorrow.  The first of the kids walked in half asleep, Jessica, who was thirteen, and poured Cheerio's into a bowl as she sat down at the table with me.  Henry had chosen Reese's Puffs, as he usually did.  When food is provided, you tend to choose name-brand.

    As the minutes trickled by, the rest of the kids trickled in, each choosing a bowl and cereal before proceeding to stare at nothing like a zombie while they ate.  By the time the clock shows 6:15 I'd already finished my cereal, and started off down the hall to wake the one straggler.  The third door on the left, one of the one's I'd left open, was now closed.  I sighed as I knocked on the door.  "Carson?"  I called.

    "I'm coming!"  came the muffled voice from behind the door.  My guess was that he'd fallen back asleep and had only just woken up.

    "Alright, but if you're not out here in five minutes, I'm coming in there!"

    "Okay, okay!"

    Shaking my head I strolled back into the kitchen to see Davie waiting with the kids, having made a bowl for himself in my absence.  "Carson?"  he asked.

    "Carson."  Davie had volunteered the previous night to drive us to school today, as he had to run some errands in town anyway.  Davie basically ran the boarding house, along with Crys, who owned it.  We were the big three, Crys being the big boss, with Davie the next one down.  I was second in command when he was gone.  Most teens would have either gone power-mad or just plain crazy in my position.  Having Davie and Crys to take care of the more tedious stuff, as well as basically becoming my family made it almost like breathing.

    Right as the clock flipped to 6:20, Carson came running in, grabbing the last bowl off of the counter and filling it with Krave and milk before sitting down to scarf it.  Ten minutes later we were all squeezing into the bus, Davie behind the wheel, Henry at the back and me in the passenger seat.  We'd been sitting this way for the past three years, Henry and I, despite the driver.  I watched everyone get on to make sure no one was forgotten, he watched everyone get off for the same reason, making sure he was last.  All the schools started at the same time every day.  We stopped by the elementary school to drop off the five that went there.  Kelly was in charge of them while I was at school, being the oldest among them at twelve.  By 7:30 we'd pulled up in front of the high school, which also held the 7th and 8th grades.  Henry, Carson, Jessica and I stepped out of the bus, walking into the building together.  It was Carson's and Jessica's first year in the school, Jessica because the previous she'd been at the elementary school, Carson because he'd moved in over the summer.

    "You two,"  I said pointing to the both of them.  "Follow me and Henry to the gym.  Both of you got your schedules?"

    "Yep!" came Jessica's reply... while Carson tried to avoid my eyes.

    "You lost yours didn't you."  I said to him.

    "No!" ha said indignantly.  "I just forgot it, okay?"

    Sighing I glanced at Henry, my expression saying it all.  "I got it," he said with a smile.  Slinging an arm across Carson's shoulders he said, "Come on.  We're getting you another copy.  Don't worry, being shown around by a senior will only heighten your street cred."

    I laughed as Jessica and I pulled away from the boys and went to the gym to wait for the bell to ring.  Jessica, seeing some of her friends from the previous year looked at me.  I nodded and she ran over to them.  I walked over to my friends and idly talked about how our summers had been 'til, fifteen minutes later, the bell rang and we all sauntered off to our first classes for the day.

    This was the first year I got to choose my schedule, completely, and I loved it.  Study Hall first thing, so I could get anything done that I hadn't had time to the previous night.  Then History, Math, Science, Lunch, a double period of Art, and lastly, English.  Math and Science were required courses, but I got to choose what period they'd be and what teachers.  I loved History, and the teacher I had this year was the same as last year, so that was a bonus.  The first half of Art was officially my class, the second was where I was a teacher's aide, which just meant I had more time for the class.  I was especially excited for my English class this year.  I'd always loved the stories we read and wrote, but this year, I had Mr. Bartlet.  He always did a year long project, for each of his classes, and the theme for each class was different each year.  I was excited to see what ours would be.

    I walked into the library and sat down in the grouping of chairs off in the corner, my favorite spot.  Study Hall was held in the library at our school, with the sign-in sheet being up at the librarian's desk.  Ms. Lisa turned in the sheets at the end of each day to the office on her way out so they could keep track of who actually showed up to this "class".  After dropping off my book-bag I went over to the desk and said hi as I signed myself in.  I immediately walked over to the fiction section to see if there were any new books that we'd gotten over the summer.

    When I'd first started at the school, I spent almost half of my time in the library.  It was quiet, it was usually empty, and it was my own private escape.  After exhausting Henry's personal library in my first few months at the house I started devouring the books in the library.  I actually preferred the school's to the public one.  Wandering amongst the shelves I pulled out a few books I had yet to read and went back to the counter to check them out.  Afterwards I went back to my seat and began reading the first one in my stack.  It was a spin-off of Hamlet, where the story was from Ophelia's point of view, called, you guessed it, Ophelia.  It was really interesting to see events from her perspective.  And I thought I might get a few brownie points for reading a take on one of Shakespeare's classics - which we'd read last year.

    Eventually the bell rang for the end of the period and I bundled up my new books and headed off to History.  It was right down the hall, so I was one of the first in the room.  Mrs. Henderson looked up as I sat down in the same seat I'd had last year, right next to her desk.  She smiled as she said, "Jenna!  I saw you on my attendance sheet.  Glad to have a familiar face - that hasn't had to repeat one of my classes."  We both laughed at the last comment.  "I am glad to see you're still here, Jenna."  She said to me kindly.

    I knew what she really meant.  Most of the people at the boarding house only stayed there for a year, maybe two.  This would be my fourth year... and, honestly, I don't plan on leaving anytime soon.  I found a home there, where before I had none.  I found a family there, and a life... I wasn't about to give that up.

    The other kids started to trickle in, though the majority flew in just as the bell rang for class to start.  Class proceeded as the first day usually does; syllabus, reading paragraphs from the student handbook, other stuff just as boring.  I noticed a few kids at the back of the classroom listening to their music players, and I must say, one had an epic playlist.

    Oh, how did I hear?  Well... that's a little bit of a secret.  I guess you won't tell anyone will you?  Alright, so, here goes... I'm psychic.  Yes, that's right, you heard me correctly, I said psychic.  I have visions, I astral project, I am telekinetic, and, of course, telepathic.  The whole shebang.  I'll get more into details later, but yes, right now, I'm "listening in" on their playlists, and, as I said, this one kid had a good one.  Cover artists galore, and good ones.  Alex Goot, Lindsey Stirling, Megan and Liz, and a whole lot more.  I started tapping my finger along while I waited for the bell.  Half an hour later I followed the flow of traffic to Math... then to Science.

    Finally, lunch rolled around.  After passing through the line I scanned the lunch room for Henry and the others.  One of the things I made sure of is that we all had the same lunch period, and so did the kids in the elementary school.  We all sat together for the first few weeks, then we go and sit with any friends we might have made.  It's a good way for me to keep an eye on the ones here.  I finally spotted them off in the corner - figures -  and skated over to them, maneuvering through all the kids toting their trays.  I sat down opposite from Henry and next to Jessica.  Carson looked like he'd rather eat in the bathroom than with us, but he didn't have a choice.  I would have followed him into the bathroom.  That's how I roll.  I am very protective of my kids, something most of the school knows.  They also know, if I don't protect my kids well enough, Crys will.

    That's a story for another day though.

    In any case, Jessica prattled on about how her day had gone so far, Henry kept getting badgered by his friends to go and join them and Carson, well, like I said, he'd rather be anywhere else.  Lunch ended and I headed off to Art.  Honestly, Art was one of my favorite classes.  I can actually prove that I did my own work.  It may have come to mind that I could easily cheat in my other classes, in art I can't.  You can't copy skill.  I sat down at the table nearest Mrs. Brenan's desk, where the aide had to sit, and watched the rest of the class as they chose their seats.  Electives were the only multi-grade classes at our school, partly because it was a small school, and partly because the staff actually wanted us to interact outside of lunch.  So there were kids from all four high school grades here.

    The next thing I knew, the kid with the epic playlist walked in and sat next to me.  I was a little surprised to see the same kid in more than one of my classes, but it was a small school.  I was more surprised that she decided to sit next to me.  I'd thought she'd follow the same pattern as earlier, and sit in the back.

    Before I could introduce myself, Mrs. Brenan spoke up.  "Alright, time to go through our section of the handbook, trust me it wont take long, it never changes."  We all laughed at her joke.  After we rushed through our page and a half she brought up the syllabus.  "Alright, so... In this class, you will earn your grade.  If I don't see you put effort in, the best grade you'll get is a C.  Oh, and you can listen to music in here, I'll have some playing most days anyway."  She went through the rest of the syllabus, basically telling us that this class is basically a free-for-all.  She'd give us an assignment, and we interpret it any way we want.  If we really don't want to do said assignment, then we make up our own as a substitute.  Fairly simple.  She finished with, "For the rest of class you're going to be learning about whoever's your neighbor and drawing what you learn."  By neighbor she meant the person sitting at our table.

    I turned to the girl next to me and held out my hand.  With a smile I said, "Hi, I'm Jenna."

    "Minat."  She looked vaguely Indian, which would explain her name.

    "Are you new here?"  I asked, I'd never met her before, and the school was too small for her to have been under my radar for so long.

    She nodded as she pulled out her player.  "I used to go to one of the private schools.  Putting one ear-bud in her left ear she offered the other to me.  Accepting it, I put it in my right ear as Elements by Lindsey Stirling played.

    "I love this song!"  I said, and it was true.  There was a reason I'd thought her playlist was epic.

    She looked at me, surprised.  "You do?  As far as I could tell, no one here had any taste in music."

    "Glad to prove you wrong."  We talked for the rest of class, learning enough about each other that we created drawings of our impressions.  Then the period ended and Minat went on to her next class.  The second period went the same as the first, except I was alone in my seat and as an added piece to the syllabus reading, Mrs. Brenan said, "Jenna, here is the aide, if I'm busy go to her, she can help just as much as me.  Oh, and she'll tell me if any of you are getting others to do your work."

    After the period ended I walked over to my last class of the day, English.  Mr. Bartlet welcomed each of us as we walked into class.  I chose the seat nearest the door, as I'd always done for the last class of the day.  After we were all settled and had gone over the last page in the student handbook Mr. Bartlet passed out the syllabus to all of us.

    "Lets get this out of the way.  I know you're all excited to hear what this year long assignment will be, but we're going to go over the more mundane aspects first, I'm afraid."  The class, as a whole, groaned as he began reading through the syllabus.  When he reached the end of the pamphlet he looked up at us and paused.  "As you all know, for each class that I have, each year, I have a year long writing assignment.  This is, undoubtedly, everyone's favorite assignment of mine."  He paused again.  "The assignment is as follows...  Each and every Friday, you will read the next chapter of your story.  At the beginning of each Friday, the class will vote on who's chapter they want to hear first, each week will be someone different.  This Friday will be the prologue.  Now, your story does not have to last the entire year, but it does have to last at the very least, the first semester.  That's eight chapters, plus a prologue for those of you mathematically challenged."  The smile on his face showed the joke and many of us chuckled at his comment.  "Minimum.  Your theme is..."  Someone in the back did a drumroll with their pencils.  "The news.  You will choose an event from the news.  Be it an old story or new, be it local, national or global.  The event can feature people you've never met, people you know, relatives, it could even be something that has happened to you."  His eyes roved the room as he gave the details.

    "You will change all names, dates and specific places it may reference.  You will write it as if you were there or were hearing it firsthand.  You may embellish all you want, though you must keep the basis of the event the same.  You will also tell no one where you found your event, nor what it is.  Think of it as an anonymous story that you happened to write down.  You may, if you wish, tell me the event, but it is not mandatory.  You may spend the rest of the period researching events.  Oh, and, before someone bothers to ask, yes, you may use an obvious event, like the sinking of the Titanic.  No, you may not use fabricated events, such as Twilight.  We are not writing fanfictions here."

    More than half the class streamed out of the room to research their events.  I didn't bother to research any, I had enough of my own to choose from.  I'd think about it tonight.  I spent the rest of the period mentally checking up on the rest of the kids, at the elementary especially.  Kelly had done a good job of keeping tabs on everyone.  The last five minutes of the day I spent packing up my things and waiting for the bell.

---

    The bell had rung and I was waiting outside, tracking down Henry and the others with my eyes.  Jessica and Henry were together when they found me.  "Where's Carson?" she asked me.

    "I don't know."  I scanned the crowd again, looking for the dirty blonde head belonging to the boy.  I noticed the school secretary waving at me from the front doors.  Sighing and knowing what was coming I looked at Henry.  "I'll be right back, if Davie shows before I'm back, you know what to do."  I waded trough the flow of kids, all going in the opposite direction mind you.  I came close enough that she could call to me.

    "Inside please."  Sighing again I followed her back through the doors into the office... where Carson sat.  "I assume that Mr. Dody here is one of yours?"  She raised her right eyebrow at the end of her question.

    "Yes, he is."

    "Well, Mr. Dody spent the his last class today in the boys bathroom playing video games.  We've confiscated his gaming device and given him a warning..."  She paused and softened her tone before continuing.  "He is new and, as he is one of yours, I can't say that his behavior isn't out of the ordinary, but were it any other student he would have gotten detention."

    "I appreciate the gesture, Ma'am, but just because the majority of 'my kids' have less than whole families and live in a boarding house, does not mean we need special treatment.  I should be proof of that.  Thank you for making an exception for today, but, next time, I'd rather you didn't.  Come on, Carson."  I walked out of the office leaving a partially stunned secretary behind me and Carson stumbling in my wake.  As we  passed out the doors I walked straight towards our waiting housemates.  As we pulled up alongside them I turned to Carson.  "Sit." I said, pointing at the bench, and, though he grumbled, he did.

    We stayed that way until Davie pulled up in the bus a few minutes later.  Henry got in first, as always, and I got in last.  Davie glanced in Carson's direction, then at me questioningly.  "Don't ask."  About ten minutes later we pulled up in front of the elementary school and the five of the kids piled into the bus.  The whole ride home, Carson ignored everyone and glared out the window.

3: Another day

    Almost an hour later we pulled in to the carport and we all piled out of the bus.  Carson was one of the first out, climbing over the others as he stalked into the house, slamming the door behind him.  I sighed as the rest of us walked into the house.  Zeke and Zack, twins, were talking to each other as they always did.  Kelly was shadowed by her younger sisters, Emily and Hannah.  Jessica was chattering away to Henry and I about her classes.  Same old, same old.

    As we stepped through the door I announced, "Everyone with homework, do it now, before you're told off later."  The twins were the only ones that groaned.

    Kelly turned to them and asked, "Mr. Pritchard?"  They both nodded glumly.  "I had him last year, don't worry, he's not so bad.  He only gives a lot of homework the first two or so weeks, then he lightens up."  The boys brightened up a bit, but went to the dining room and pulled out their homework anyway.

    I put my hand on Kelly's shoulder and bent down to whisper to her.  "Thanks.  You did a great job today."  She beamed at me, before running off to her room.  I laughed.  Henry walked over to the rec room door, which was on the other side of the living room.

    "Wanna watch a movie?  Davie got a new one the other day that I've been wanting to watch."

    I smiled but shook my head.  "I'm good, I need to figure out what I'm gonna do for Mr. Bartlet's year assignment."

    "What's the theme this year?"

    "The news.  An event from the news."

    He stared at me for a moment.  "You're gonna do something personal aren't you."

    I didn't answer, just said, "Have fun watching your movie."  I smiled at him as I walked to my room.  Opening the door I dropped my back pack on the floor and flopped onto my bed.  I laid there, staring at my ceiling, for once, thoughtless.

    An event...  I laughed once, mirthlessly.  I've got events, too many.  Yet, not one stood out above the others.  Not one that I could turn into a story, not one I knew enough about to be truthful.  I didn't want to choose one that wasn't important, or that meant nothing.  I didn't want to choose simply for entertainment purposes either.  I had a whole house full of people to choose from... but I didn't want to betray anyone's secrets.  Especially when most of them didn't know they'd shared them with me.

    That brings me back to being psychic.  I don't normally pry in to people's pasts.  If I invade their thoughts in any way, it's usually just the surface thoughts, or, what they're thinking at the moment.  I can go deeper and see all their memories, and even what it's like inside their minds.  I usually don't though, actually, the last time I did was three years ago.  I used to do it all the time, back when I didn't trust people.  Now I try to give them the benefit of the doubt.  I've only ever gone in Henry's mind once, and never into any of the other kids'.

    In fact, there was only one person in the house whom I'd seen everything about.  Crys.

---

    Every night, all the boarders ate together.  It's just what we did.  Whoever either volunteered or was on kitchen duty made dinner, usually with help, and whoever was in trouble with their parents, or the bosses, did the dishes.  Tonight was no different.  Everyone talking to whoever, shouting across the table, kids throwing stuff at each other.  Normal night at the boarding house.

    Crys was at one end of the table, with Davie on her left and me about halfway down the table next to Henry.  Crys looked the same as always, normal.  Davie and I were the only ones in the house who knew any different.  Who knew the whole story.  She smiled and laughed at jokes.  Crys hid her true emotions well.  Only those who really knew her saw any different... that girl could beat a polygraph.

    "Jenna, how'd your first day go?"  Nora, who was sitting across from me, had asked.

    I smiled at her.  "It was great.  I have some of the same teachers from last year and I love all my classes."

    "I hear you have Mr. Bartlet thins year, is that right?"

    I smiled at her.  News traveled fast in the house.  "Yeah."  My eyes traveled back to Crys.  She was staring at me.

    "I had him when I was a senior."  She said from her end of the table.

    I scrunched my eyebrows.  "Really?"

    She nodded and took a bite.  "What'd he give you for your theme?"

    "The news.  Well, an event from the news."

    "You figured out what you're gonna to yet?"

    I paused for a moment.  "I think I might have."

---

    The next day at school, Minat and I sat next to each other in history as well as in art.  I could tell we were gonna be friends.  Halfway through art she was telling me about how her dad was from England.  They'd visited a few times, including over the summer.  She was telling me about the trip.  I watched her memories of it as she told me about them.  It really was a cool trip.  "I wish I could go on trips like that."

    "You've never been anywhere?"

    "I have, but they weren't really trips.  They weren't for fun.  I used to live on the east coast.  I moved here a little over three years ago."

    "Really?" I nodded.  "Where on the east coast?"

    I ticked off the places on my fingers as I said them.  "Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Connecticut and New York."

    "You've been to New York City?"

    "Part of it.  That's where I lived before here."

    "Why would you come here from New York.  This is a small town.  Wasn't it a big down-grade?"

    I paused, choosing my words.  "Sort of.  It's nice to be out of the city though.  I like the woods more anyway."  After class ended I thought on how close to home that conversation had been.  I don't talk about my past.  Most of the boarders don't, for good reason.  Aside from being psychic, my past holds things I don't particularly want people to know.  Most of what the school knows about me is fabricated.  As far as they know, I'm a slightly less-than-normal teenager.  Only Crys knows what lies in my past.  Just as I know hers.

    Which brings me to now, five minutes before the end of my teacher's aide Art.  I went over to Mrs. Brenan, "Is it okay if I leave?  I have a question for Mr. Bartlet about the year long assignment, and I'd rather ask between classes."

    "Sure, go ahead."

    I gathered my things and slipped out of the room.  Walking down the hallways was always a bit weird when they were empty.  I preferred it though.  I made it to Mr. Bartlet's room right as the bell rang.  Students streamed out of the doors and, as the last one left his room, I slipped in.  Mr. Bartlet looked up from his desk.  "Miss Arrons.  You've arrived here quickly."

    "I actually had a question for you, about the year long assignment."

    "Ask away."

    "I was wondering if we could use multiple events, so long as they went together."

    "Yes, I suppose you could do that.  So long as they either have the same people of interest or are in the same place... I don't see why not."

    I smiled, I now knew exactly what events I was going to use.  "Thanks."  I went and sat at my desk to start working on a rough draft.  The other students streamed in until the final bell.

    Mr. Bartlet stood up.  "Today you may use the entire period to either research your event further or to begin working on the prologue.  Yes, you may go to the computer lab and type it."  Half the class immediately left the room, while the rest pulled out notebooks or - the more prepared students - laptops.

    I looked back down at my notebook.  Part of me was apprehensive about writing the events of someone's life.  The rest of me was trying to figure out how to write the events correctly.  I made a list of all the names I could think of that were part of these particular events, and then figured out what I'd change them to.  By the time the end of the period rolled around, my main character's name was Becca, she lived in California and it was a fairly good read if I do say so myself.

    I checked for Carson before the bell, making sure he was actually in his class and not ditching again.  He was.  As soon as the bell rang  was out the door and out the doors.  Henry was already waiting.  "How did you get here so fast?"

    "My last period is gym.  I change early and I'm out the doors by the time the bell rings."

    "Perks of being a senior?"

    "Perks of being a senior.  So, what happened with Carson yesterday?"

    "He ditched his last class to play games in the bathroom."

    "First day?"  I nodded.  He let out a low whistle.  "How'd you handle Medusa?"  'Medusa' was our nickname for the school secretary - when she wasn't around of course.  The nickname came from how her hair was stringy and tended to look like snakes, and that when she glared at you, you felt like you'd be turned to stone.

    "Professionally."

    "You insulted her with decorum."

    "Well, look at you.  Aren't we the word-master today?"

    Carson and Jessica showed up at more or less the same time.  Kelly's mom was the one who picked us up.  She's done a grocery run, so there were bags taking up every space not taken up by a kid.  After we got the other five there were bags in laps.  As we got close to the house she called out to us.  "Everyone helping me carry these in?"

    "Yep."  I said speaking for them.  I looked back over my shoulder to where Carson was glaring at me.  I ignored him and turned back to the front window.

---

    That night, after dinner, Carson's brother Jason came to talk to me.  Jason was twenty-two and was a mechanic at one of the auto-shops in town.  After their mom had died a few years back, Jason had gotten custody of his brother.  They'd moved in over the summer because it was cheaper than the apartment they'd been living in.  "Hey," he said.  "Carson hasn't been talking since yesterday.  Did something happen at school?"

    "He ditched his last class to play video games.  He got caught.  Don't worry, he's not gonna have detention, unless he does it again."

    "He wouldn't be shut up like that just for getting caught, he's done that before.  Did you say something to him?"

    I shook my head.  "No."

    "Hmm...  Thanks anyway.  Keep keeping an eye on him will ya?"

    "It's my job."

    "Ha, ha."  He said over his shoulder as he walked away.

    I walked to my room and sat down at my desk, pulling out my notebook and worked on my prologue.  It was Wednesday night, so I had tomorrow to work out the kinks.  It was almost eleven by the time I put away the more of less finished prologue.  All the other kids had gone to bed about two hours ago... I needed sleep.

---

    The next morning I spent study hall writing out my prologue.  It was really the only homework I had so far, most of my other teachers were fairly complacent the first week.  Before I knew it, the bell had rung and I made my way through my other classes.  By the time lunch had rolled around, I'd worked out a plan.

    I found our table and dropped my plate down, waiting for Carson.  Once he showed and did the same with his own, I steered him by the shoulder into one of the side hallways where nobody currently was.  I let him go and crossed my arms, staring at him.  He was avoiding my eyes.

    "What's your problem, Carson?  Jason says you haven't been talking...  Does it have something to do with what went down Tuesday?"  No answer, not even eye contact.  "Fine, don't talk to me, I don't care, but talk to your brother.  At least you have family to talk to."  I got eye contact with that last comment.  I didn't care by that point.  I just went back to the lunchroom, sat down and ate my lunch.  A few moments later, Carson returned and did the same.

    Lunch passed normally after that, as did both of my art classes.  The next thing I knew I was in English.  The first half of the period we began reading one of our books, The Great Gatsby.  I was actually excited to read this one, as the movie had been advertised, even if it hadn't come out yet.  The second half we worked on our prologues, or first chapters if you were one of the overachievers.  Before half the class left, Mr. Bartlet announced, "Remember, your prologues are due tomorrow.  You have to read them aloud to get credit, so you'd better practice if you don't want to sound lifeless."

    After the last bell of the day I was the first outside, and Carson the second.  He stood next to me, looking nervous.  "Hi."  I looked down at him, but he was staring at the other kids.  "Did you have a good day?"

    By how awkward he sounded I had to keep myself fro laughing.  "I did actually."

    He quickly glanced up at me.  "Good."

    I smiled to myself as the others joined us.  I caught Henry's thought. 'Whatever she said at lunch must have worked.'

---

    When we got home, Crys came and found me in my room.  At her knock I called her in.  She went and sat down in my desk chair, as she usually did, while I sat on my bed.  "What's up?"

    "I'm going on a business trip."

    My heart stumbled.  "You got a lead?"

    She looked down at her hands.  "I think so...  In any case, I'll probably be gone between a week and a month."

    "When are you leaving?"

    "Tomorrow morning.  There's a bus scheduled at 4:00 am, so I'll be gone once you wake up."  She stood up to leave.  "Hold down the fort while I'm gone would you?"  Then she was gone, disappeared into the hallway.

    I sat staring at the door for a few more minutes.  I hope she finds them.  I changed into more comfortable clothes, a.k.a. sweats and a t-shirt, and went to the rec room.  Henry was there, looking through the stack of movies.

    He looked up when he heard the door.  "Oh, hey.  Wanna watch a movie?"  

    "Duh."  I went over to the rack to help him search.  We ended up picking Transformers.  Well, I ended up picking it.

    Henry chuckled at me and called me a motor-head.  My response was to punch him in the arm and say, "Hey, that is Optimus Prime, show him some respect!"  Which made both of us laugh.

---

    That night I went to sleep worrying about how my prologue was going to go over, and about Crys' "business trip".  Please don't let this one be a dead end.

4: Glimpse of the past

    Friday morning in Study Hall I wrote out my prologue, the final draft.  After checking through it about three times to make sure I'd changed all the names and places, I was finally able to relax - sort of.  I was still nervous about my story.  Not whether the other students would like it or not, I really couldn't care about that... no, what I was nervous about was if it somehow got back to who it was really about.  I didn't know if she'd be okay with it or what.  I knew the farther I got into the story, the easier it would be to figure out who it really was about.  Well, I'd deal with that if it happened.

    In any case, the rest of the day passed relatively normally.  In art, Minat and I took up our previous conversation.  Now we were talking about places we'd always wanted to go.  "I've always wanted to see the Cairo Museum."  Minat said, adding to her already mile-long list.

    "If we're talking museums, I've wanted to go to the Smithsonian."

    "Oh, there too.  And the Louvre, and the Library of Congress, the Statue of Liberty -"

    "Ellis Island."  I murmured, loud enough to be heard, but still, a murmur.

    Minat looked sideways at me.  "Why Ellis Island?"

    I didn't answer for a few moments, but, eventually, I replied, "Ellis Island was new beginnings.  Why the Library of Congress?"

---

    "...They had yet to suspect anything."  The tenth student had read their prologue, and I hadn't gone yet.  Without looking, Mr. Bartlet pointed to a name on his attendance sheet.  Turns out that's how he chose who was going next after the chosen one at the beginning of class.  He looked down at the name he'd pointed to and marked it off with his highlighter.

    "Miss Arrons, you seem to be next."  He said, looking at me.

    Have I mentioned yet that I have mild stage fright?  I've always been the person who hides in the background.  My name even blends in, along with my brown hair and eyes, I'm not usually the center of attention.  When I have to speak in front of a crowd more than about five... I start getting nervous.  I stood in the front of the class, clutching my paper... and took a breath.

    "I am going to tell you a tale. It is a tale of adventure, of danger, of sorrow and hardships. It is also about joy and love, and creating light from darkness. It is a story about a girl named Becca.  The events described throughout this story have since passed, but I assure you, every word of it is true. Though you may, and quite possibly will, become skeptical throughout it's telling.  This tale is not for the faint of heart, for it involves gore, violence, and an evil so rare that much of the world believes it to be nonexistent. However, if you still feel you are strong enough to travel along side me in the regaling of this life, then hold on tight.  Be warned, my tale begins...

    "I must begin with Becca's childhood.  However, just because this is her childhood, does not mean it is all unicorns and rainbows.  Becca was an average 5th grader. She got straight B's, listened to her parents, had friends and two younger siblings... a normal life. Her dad was a police officer and her mom a high school counselor. They lived on the west coast in northern California. Her mom or dad often would pick her up from school. The day her life ceased to be normal her dad happened to pick her up."

    I sat back down in my seat, having kept my prologue short and sweet.  Four more of my classmates had to read their prologues before I could relax and breathe normal again.  Most of the others had created much longer prologues than mine, I had a plan though.  I wanted my story to last all year, and, trust me, it was long enough.

    After class, on my way out to the front of the school, one of my classmates came up to me.  I sort of knew her, I mean she'd been here for longer than me, but we ran in different circles.  "Why'd you make yours so short?"  I just shrugged and made my way to where Jessica was waiting.

---

    Friday nights were movie nights at the house.  With movie night always came bickering over what movie we'd watch.  The girls wanted princess movies and the guys usually wanted explosions of some sort - then there were the adults who wanted more serious stuff.  After ten minutes straight of arguing I pulled out five movies and had a face off between them, whatever won, was the one we were gonna watch.  We ended up watching Oliver and Company.

    We all felt like the dogs in the movie from time to time.  All of us different, all of us on hard times, we made a weird family, but a family nonetheless... that's why I fight like hell for my kids, and so does Crys.  Henry made a joke that Fagan was like Crys, taking in all of us when she had to take care of her self first... he didn't know how apt the comparison was.

    "So who's Oliver, then?  I mean, if Crys is Fagan, the others have to match up with us don't they?"  I asked, good naturedly.

    "Oh, that's easy."  He looked at me,  "You are."

    Davie chimed in with, "That must make me Dodger."

    "Yeah, you're Billy Joel."  Nora had to point out that Davie was tone deaf - and the tone he was deaf to was his own.

    "I wanna be Tito!"  Zeke joined the fight of who'd be who.

    "No!  I wanna be Tito!"  Zack and Zeke were definitely identical, even down to their personalities.

    "Hey, you can both be Tito, now both of you shut up so we can watch the movie!"  Jason, who'd become like an older brother to them while here, said to them.

    Inside, I chuckled.  We were one discordant family.  Carson asked, a bit absently, "Where is Crys anyway?"

    "She went on a business trip.  She'll be back soon."  With good news I hope.

---

    That weekend I ended up writing the next three chapters out.  Rough drafts of course.  I pretty much stayed cooped up in my room to write it, but I was on a roll.  These chapters were longer, but there was still a lot of story to go.  A lot to get everyone hooked on.  By the time Wednesday came around I had my chapter for that Friday done as well as the roughs up to chapter seven.

    Wednesday afternoon, once we'd gotten home from school, I went for a walk in the woods surrounding the house.  The woods went on for miles in every direction - and I do mean miles.  There were footpaths snaking through the undergrowth everywhere.  One such path I was on.  The path lead to a tree house.  It had been there before Crys got the house and, after deciding to turn it into a boarding house, she and Davie had fixed it up.  The wood was all new, and Davie had snaked power out here - don't ask me how, I'm lost when it comes to architecture and the innards of buildings.  There was one of those big fans, the kind you'd see in a gym.  That's where Davie got it too, from the school when they put central air in the gym, he even got it cheap.

    Aside from the fan that kept it cool in the summer, there were also two space heaters (three when it was really cold), a mini-fridge, a couch, chairs, and extra outlets to plug in anything else needed.  Every once in a while power cut out, and we'd have to call back to the house for them to flip the breaker.  Oh, yeah, there was a landline in it.  I know, old school, but it was capable of calling the house, 911, the local police, the hospital, and any other emergency number.  Nothing else.  The only reason it was there was for emergencies - especially since cell service was shoddy way out here.  The tree house was about eight feet off the ground, with boards nailed to the tree trunk to get up to it.  I climbed the boards and pushed up on the trap-door.  When I stepped into the room I left it open, leaning against the tree trunk.  I went over and sat on the couch.

    I closed my eyes, leaning back against the cushions.  A small smile crept over my face as I remembered when Crys had first showed me the tree house.  Davie had almost finished it, and I could still see some of the old wood.  Davie had always been a Mr. Fix-it, and he proved it every time something fell apart.  Fixing the tree house was nothing to him.  I'd sat down on the floor with my feet hanging out the hole where a wall would soon be.  A breeze had ruffled my hair, on it, the sounds of the woods.  It was one of the first times in my life I'd felt truly peaceful.

    I hadn't been lying when I'd told Minat that I liked the woods better than buildings.  I'd grown up hearing car horns, squealing brakes, sirens and the general sounds of people.  Out here, I heard crickets, cicadas, the wind in the trees...  I think that might be part of why I was able to start over here.  It was so completely foreign from what I knew that I could be whatever I wanted.

    I opened my eyes, seeing the completed tree house, and coming back to the present.  I always chose to come here when I needed to feel... I don't know... at peace, I guess.  It wasn't hard.  In the not so silent quiet, I heard footsteps.  I glanced out one of the windows, and saw Zeke and Zack coming towards the tree house.  Between them was a gaming system, controllers and a game.  I smiled to myself as I got up from the couch.

    I climbed down the boards, waving at the boys as they approached.  "You guys need help lugging that stuff up?"

    Zack shook his head.  "No, we got it."

    Zeke looked at me.  "We're not bothering you are we?"

    "Yeah, we'll leave if you want the place."  Zack said, picking up his brother's sentence, something they did often.

    I smiled at them.  "No, you guys go ahead.  I was just getting ready to go back to the house anyway.  Make sure you're back by 7:00, okay?"

    "Yeah, okay!"  They said, almost in unison.

    They clamored up the boards as I walked back towards the house, silently shaking my head.  I was about halfway back to the house when a sharp ache went through my head and chest, simultaneously.  "Oh, no."  I groaned.  Another, more painful, ache went through me again.  I looked around, making sure no one was around.  I walked a few feet off the path, and sat down in the underbrush.  Another ache went through me.  I curled into a ball, laying on my side.  As the aches grew in frequency and intensity, I started to whimper at the pain.

    I'm not too proud to admit that I was scared.  Even though it's happened enough times in my life, I've never gotten used to it.  It's actually gotten worse over the years.  I guess I have to count my blessings that it happened while I was alone though.  It could have happened at school.  I started shaking violently now, because of the aches.  Almost like a seizure.  That's not quite how this went down though.  I felt like my soul was being shoved, while my body stayed exactly where it was.  From the pushing sensation I could tell it was the past this time.  My last thought before the final shove was that I wished it had happened before Crys had left.

---

    I was still on the path, though it looked... younger, less worn down.  I could hear the sounds of construction off to my right, in the direction of the tree house.  I walked towards the sounds and, as I'd guessed, came upon a scene of laughter and hard work.  A man, middle-aged, and three boys were clustered around the same tree that was our tree house now.  The oldest boy, looking about nineteen years old or so, was on a ladder, hammering some boards into the tree at an angle.  Supports for the floor, I realized.  The second youngest was nailing the boards into the trunk, the ones that we still used as steps to get into ours, he was about thirteen or fourteen.  The man was up on the already constructed floor, placing more boards, while the youngest ran back and fourth, dolling out nails and fetching more wood as needed.  He couldn't have been older than seven.

    I was a silent observer.  Unseen, unheard.  I could have waked right up to any of them and they wouldn't have seen me.  I was like a ghost.  The boys were laughing at something the man - their dad - had said.  They joked with each other as they built.  I did little else but watch and listen, I couldn't really do anything else.  Soon enough I felt a tug on my soul.  Pulling me sort of upwards, and sort of forwards.

---

    The next thing I knew, my eyes were snapping open and I was gasping for breath.  I was laying on my side, still curled in a ball, still in the undergrowth off of the path.  Once I'd caught my breath enough that I didn't feel like I'd just finished a marathon, I sat up.  A dull ache remained in the back of my head.  From experience, I knew it'd fade in a few minutes.

    I'd just had a vision.  I guess I could have explained that, huh?  Ever since I could remember, whenever I'd had a vision, I'd had those shooting aches.  It was the part I hated most about them, even more than the feeling that my soul was literally being either pushed or pulled out of my body - against my will might I add.  I was shaking softly, and covered in sweat.  I felt like I'd just crashed after an adrenaline high, but that wasn't unusual.  I slowly stood up, making sure I didn't become dizzy and collapse.  I brushed the leaves off where they'd stuck to me, and picked the few out of my hair.

    I straightened myself up as much as I could.  If anyone asked I'd just tell them I'd tripped on my way back and fallen into a bush or something.  No one knew about my being psychic.  No one but Crys.  Davie knew there was something, but he didn't know what.  It was my most closely guarded secret, one I was willing, time being, to take to my grave.  Yes, I did tell you, but who's gonna believe you?  You don't know me, not really.  You don't even know where I live.  Crys is the only one - besides you - who I've ever told... and that was as fair trade.  I'll get into that later, though.

    In any case, I turned back towards the house.  I managed to make it into my room without anyone seeing me.  I put on some clean clothes, albeit comfy ones, and snuck off to the bathroom where I washed the dirt off my face and arm.  There were still one or two bits of leaves in my hair that I couldn't quite get out, but no one would notice them.  I proceeded to go about the rest of the day as if nothing had happened.  As far as my housemates were aware, nothing had.

---

    I guess now would be a good time to explain my psychic-ness.  Ok, so, I found out I was psychic when I was little.  I'm not exactly sure how old I was, maybe three, when I had my first vision.  Back then, it was way easier.  The aches were more dull, basically like a headache, and the pulling or pushing was less violent.  Over time, for some reason unknown to me, they've gotten worse.  I always kind of knew what people were thinking, though when I was little, I thought it was common.  It wasn't 'til I was older that I started to realize that I was more different than I thought.  I count my blessings that 90% of the time, when I'd had a vision, I'd been away from people, more or less.  It's the hardest thing to hide - for obvious reasons.  I can't control when I get a vision.  I've learned to figure out what brings them on, well sort of.  Most of the time, it's when I go deep into one of my own memories, in a place where a significant memory was made.  Does that make sense?

    It doesn't always happen because of that, though.  Sometimes they were as out-of-the-blue as a UFO.  The few people who've seen them happen, I've been able to convince that I had epilepsy.  All except for Crys.  Crys is the only one who knows exactly what's going on when I have a vision.  Now, I call them visions for lack of a better word.  It's not like in the movies, where the psychic sees whatever.  It's more like I get taken to the event, and am there.  It's easier to describe it with "vision", as that's an established example that people can refer to.   Astral projection isn't like the movies either.  It's only ever happened while I was asleep.  I've never been able to meditate into it, like people say you can.  It's as involuntary as a vision, but far less painful and much more enjoyable.

    Telekinesis and telepathy are the only aspects of my psychic-ness that I can control.  It took me years to get moving stuff down pat.  I still send stuff flying if I get distracted though.  I don't do it a lot.  I do, however, use telepathy almost as often as breathing.  Beck before I moved into the boarding house, I invaded the minds of everybody.  I knew all secrets, and yet no one knew me.  I didn't trust anybody.  There was no such thing as privacy as far as I was concerned.

    I've learned to give people the benefit of the doubt.  I said that I skim the surface, and I do.  Even when I was pep-talking Carson the other day, I didn't "go in", so to speak.  Not all of my reasons are as good natured.  A lot of why I - well - changed, is because I was getting scared.  I have memories that aren't mine.  Between the visions and the mind reading, only half of what's in my head is mine.  It's trippy, and not in a cool way.

    I have to thank Crys for bringing about the change though.  If she hadn't found me, hadn't brought me here.  Hell, if she hadn't acted the way she did to me... I might still be the person I was... and my mind might not be my own.

5: Morning routine

    I'm seventeen years old.  I have more life experience than the majority of my classmates, and not all of it by conventional means, but I'm still just a kid.  When everything's going right, and I feel like the boss that I am, I forget that.  But when I have a vision or see something that... well, that I really shouldn't have... I remember.  I guess you could say that it humbles me.  It's ironic that, when I feel like an adult I feel more like a kid... but when I feel like a kid I feel so much older.  Does that make sense?

    I guess that's one of the reasons Crys means so much to me.  She's the same.  She only twenty-four years old, and owns a boarding house.  She's still young, even though she's legally an adult.  She gets it.  That's why I know everything, and so does she.  That's why, when she found me, when she brought me back to the house, I trusted her.  I trusted her at a time when I didn't even trust myself.  She's never betrayed that trust, not yet.

    Sorry, I don't mean to sound like a downer.  I just felt old all of a sudden.  Anyway, Thursday passed normally.  Friday came around and we went to school as usual.

---

    In history, Minat and I were talking about our art assignment we'd gotten yesterday.  It was a pair project, a mini mural.  It had to be somewhat abstract and show one of the seven deadly sins vs. it's opposing virtue.  "What pair are we gonna do?"

    "Hmm... Well, what ones are everyone else gonna do?"

    She tapped her pencil against her jaw, something I'd noticed she did when she was thinking.  "Wrath is gonna be a popular one...  And probably pride."

    "Greed and charity are too obvious."

    She looked at me with an expression that said I've-got-an-idea-for-a-prank.  "So are lust and purity."  She bounced her eyebrows suggestively.

    I chuckled.  "So that leaves gluttony, sloth and envy."  I ticked them off on my fingers as I said them.

    "I think we should do envy.  What's it's opposite again?"

    "Kindness."

    "Alright, I want to do the sin."

    "Fine with me."  I thought for a moment.  "What if we do a yin-yang type of thing?"  Minat looked at me confused.  "Like, the sin has a little virtue in it, and the virtue a little sin."

    "Hmm."  She tapped her pencil again.  "I like it!"

    "Alright, so, what if we..."  We discussed how it'd look for the rest of the period, as well as our art period.  Near the end of the class we drew up a prototype of what we were thinking of.  We thought it'd be interesting to balance cool and warm colors as well.  During my aide-art I thought on it more, until the last ten minutes when I checked my English chapter to make sure there were no errors.

---

    It was near the end of class when my turn came to read our next chapter.  "Miss Arrons."  It was only our second week, and I'd already realized that Mr. Bartlet was the kind of teacher who didn't use our first names.  I walked to the front of the class, nervous again.  I have mentioned I have stage fright, right?  I took a deep breath and began reading.

---

    As the bell rang Becca Hughes rushed out the door, straight towards her dad's idling car. Jumping into the passenger seat, she threw her backpack into the backseat.

     "How was school?" her dad said.

     She replied, "It was great! We started a new project in art class, we learned about ancient Egypt, we're almost done with our song list for choir and, for lunch, we had Bosco breadsticks!"

     Her dad chuckled, used to this sort of response from his oldest child. "I'm glad you had a good day. Ok, here's the plan, kiddo. We've gotta stop at the gas station, 'cause this car's tank is emp-ty, and I figure, while we're there... we can get some ice cream!"

     Becca turned to her dad with wide eyes and practically squealed her response of, "YES!"

     Her dad held up his hand, which was met with a high-five. Alright, here we go." He started the car and drove out of the pick-up lane. They drove to their favorite gas station, one that was always a few cents cheaper than it's competitors. It also happened to have an excellent ice cream selection. They pulled up to a pump and strolled through the door, heading straight for the back. There they picked our their favorites, a Strawberry Shortcake bar for Becca and a Drumstick for her dad. They paid for their gas and ice-cream before going back to the car. Becca finished her ice cream in record time, for it had begun to melt. As she waited for her dad to finish pumping gas, she realized mother nature was calling.

     "Dad, I gotta go to the bathroom! I'll be right back." she said as she hopped out of the car.

     "Don't take too long." It was common for her dad to let her go into this gas station alone, or to use it's restroom, for they'd been coming to it nearly as long as Becca had been alive, and her dad knew each of the attendants. Becca was like a niece to most of them, and a friend to the rest. He knew he had nothing to fear while they were at this particular station.

     She burst through the door, running straight for the counter. One of the attendants already had the key out and handed it to her as she reached the counter. This was near a routine by now. Becca was already rounding the corner of the building when the door closed behind her. When she came out of the bathroom she noticed a man putting a trash bag into the gas station's dumpster. "You can't do that." she called. She knew that it was against the station's policy to let customers put trash directly into their dumpster. She also knew he was not an employee.

     Upon hearing her voice, the man turned to face her. After a moment's consideration he turned back to the dumpster and kept at what he'd been doing. Becca shrugged her shoulders and began to turn away, saying to herself, "Don't blame me if you get into trouble."  As she was rounding the corner to the front of the building she heard the trash bag rip open. Her childhood curiosity made her turn her head at the sound, needing to see what'd happened.

     What she saw was a hand, a human hand, sticking out of the bag.

---

    After I'd finished I sat down.  Unlike last week, many of my classmates had their eyes on me.  I knew there'd be a reaction to the cliffhanger.  Stop staring at me!  I like that I fade into the background.  Aside from my stage fright, it's easier to hide that I'm not normal, even though I look it.  My heart didn't stop pounding until I was back on the bus and heading home.  Henry noticed that I was acting weird and questioned me about it when we got back to the house.

    "You know I have English last right?"

    He nodded, and then widened his eyes in understanding.  "Stage fright?"  He gave me a sympathetic look.

    I nodded.  "Uh-huh.  I guess I shouldn't have ended my chapter with a cliffhanger."

    He got quiet.  Skimming his thoughts I knew why.  When he spoke, I already knew what the question was.  "It's about someone from the house isn't it?"

    I didn't answer, I couldn't.  To deny it would only confirm his suspicions.  And I wouldn't say who it was.  I wouldn't risk them hearing about it... not yet.  Instead, I brushed off the question, as I had two weeks ago when he'd phrased it differently.  Instead I smiled and shrugged.  "It's a story."  And if I have anything to say about it, it'll never be anything more.

---

    That night we watched Spirited Away.  If you don't know what that movie's about, let me explain it a bit.  First off, it's a Studio Ghibli film, which means it's by Hayao Myazaki.  He's an amazing storyteller and artist.  Spirited Away is one of the stories he wrote, and of course, he did the artwork.  It's about a little girl who's family is moving.  On the way they get lost.  They end up in the realm of the spirits, where her parents get turned into pigs and she gets stuck.  She makes friends with a boy who turns out to be a dragon and a man that has extra arms that stretch to incredible lengths.  She goes on this weird adventure to turn her parents back and almost forgets her own name.  The boy helps her and she frees him as well, as he'd become trapped there long ago.  I won't go too into detail because then there'd be no fun.  You'll just have to go watch it yourself, it really is a good movie.

    Emma and Hannah were glued to the screen.  Kelly and Jessica were rapt as well, but they were a bit more discreet about it, sitting farther away and munching on popcorn.  Cartoons were a bit of a soft spot for us.  Good ones that is, ones that adults enjoy as much as the kids.  At one point we were cheering on the girl, as a whole.  Even Carson, sulky as he usually was.  Since it wasn't a school night, the kids were free to run amuck.  I, however, went to bed at about 10:00.

    That night, as I slept, I projected.

    A few hours after drifting off to sleep, I found myself opening my eyes.  I turned my head to look at the clock.  It read 1:30.  I sat up, placing my feet on the floor.  I noticed I was still laying on the bed.  I always did this when I woke up late at night.  It's how I knew if I was projecting.

    I stood up.  I bounced slightly, as I tended to do when projecting.  When I projected, gravity had less of an effect on me.  Kinda like bouncing on the moon, but less of a difference.  I guess it'd be easier to say it was like walking on a trampoline, but I moved more than the ground.  I'm getting too caught up in explaining how I move.  What I see is much more interesting.

    Take the view around you, weather it's your room, the library, even outside - and picture it how it'd look at night.  Now add the light spectrum back in.  The unseen part.  When I projected, I saw the auras of everything.  I guess I can best describe it as a halo.  Everything glowing softly, but the actual lighting not changed one bit.  I could see what I would with my eyes, but I could see more.

    When I project, I feel the same way I do when I have a vision.  Not the pain - oh, no.  No.  But how I feel after I've gone to wherever.  Like an invisible observer.  I don't spy on people, not anymore anyway.  I used to.  Boy, did I used to.  Back when I trusted no one, back when I was still in the business of invading minds, I spied.

    But, like I said, I don't do that anymore.  No juicy secrets for you tonight.  Instead, I walked outside, through the window.  Yeah, through.  I'm insubstantial when I project.  It used to freak me out when I was little, at which point I would snap back and wake up, for real.  Now It was as natural as breathing.  Ok, so not as natural.  I still hesitate before going through something.  In any case, I was outside.  I decided to go tree-hopping.

    Tree-hopping is just what it sounds like, hopping from tree to tree.  I climb up and literally jump across the tree tops.  It's easy since I'm so bouncy.  I can only do it when I'm projecting, so don't try this at home kids.  Eventually I got bored though.  I had no idea how much time had passed.  I went back to the house and slipped into the upstairs hallway, by Crys' room.  I peeked in.  Yes, I did say I don't spy anymore, but she was still away on business, so I wasn't spying.

    She'd left her computer on, I'd have to remember to turn it off once I woke up.  Crys' room was part of the original house, which meant it was small.  Her bed was in the corner, her desk opposite.  On her desk was one picture frame.  It was her family.  It was one of the times her aunt had stopped by and they'd gotten someone to take a picture of all of them.  Crys was little in the picture, maybe seven, her youngest sibling was just a baby in the picture, blanket and all.  The picture was turned outwards.  That's a good sign.  Whenever she'd come back from a trip that turned out to be a dead end she always turned it over, or so that it faced the wall... she couldn't face them.  She'd turned it back around a while back, so I knew she had hope, at the moment.

    I went back out and down the hall, to the stairs.  I went down and into my room, nearly floating over to my bed.  There were two ways I knew of to stop projecting.  One was to "slide" back in to my comatose body.  The other was if I got shocked or stressed enough and I "snapped" back in.  Snapping always woke me up, where as sliding allowed me to remain sleeping.  I laid down, right on myself, and slid in.  Before sliding in all the way I glanced at the clock, which read 4:53.

---

    Saturday morning I woke up to the smell of eggs and pancakes.  I pull myself out of bed, noting that it was 9:45.  On one hand I felt like I hadn't slept, on the other like I hadn't slept enough.  I usually feel that way after projecting.  I shuffled into the kitchen in my pajamas, as did more than half the boarders.  We clustered around the big table in the kitchen, well, half of us clustered.  Some chose to eat in the dining room, some at the kitchen table, some took their plates to other rooms.  There were a lot of boarders, aside from the kids.  There were Crys and Davie.  And myself of course.  Henry and his Grandma, her name was Lissete.  Nora was her sister.  There was Kelly, her sisters and her mom, Amanda.  Zeke and Zack lived here with their mom, Lori.  Jessica lived with her dad, Vince.  Then there was Carson and Jason.  Randal was an old guy who lived on the second floor.  Kira had moved in about two months ago, after moving out of her parents house.  And a guy about thirty who's name I hadn't quite memorized yet, as he'd moved in only a few days before school started.

    Pulling a pancake onto my plate, I got two eggs, a few sausage links and a hash-brown patty on as well.  I don't use syrup on my pancakes, just lots and lots of butter, so there was no chance of a sticky mess.  Grabbing a fork off the counter I took my plate to the dining room table.  I sat down next to Hannah, who was swinging her legs back and forth as she stuffed pancakes into her mouth.  Unlike me, she did smother her pancakes in syrup.  She had it all over her face, looking like five o'clock shadow.  Amanda leaned across the table and wiped the syrup off the face of her youngest.  Amanda was a young mom, only thirty two years old.  Her perpetual boyfriend (they'd never actually gotten around to tying the knot) had decided three years ago that he didn't want to live surrounded by girls, three of whom were "snot nosed brats", and had kicked them out.  She'd met Davie a few times in town and knew about the boarding house.  She's been here ever since.

    Hannah giggled and stuffed more into her mouth, messing what her mom had just cleaned.  "You might as well wait 'til she's done, Amanda."

    She rested her head in her hand.  Looking at me, she sighed.  "I know."  Looking back at Hannah, she said, "I'm fighting a loosing battle with this one."

    Kelly, who was sitting next to her mom, looked at Emily, who was on Hannah's other side.  "Emily did the same thing."

    "Did not!"  Emily hated to get dirty.  She was definitely a Barbie girl, she even had blonde hair and blue eyes.  But, Kelly was right, she did used to get syrup all over her face.

    "Did so!"

    "Well, I bet you did too!"

    Amanda, head still in her hand, looked over at her oldest.  "Actually, Kelly was the only one who didn't."  Kelley stuck her tongue out at her sister.  "Alright, stop it, you two." 

    "Sorry, mom!"  They chimed in unison.

    I laughed and caught Amanda's eye.  She smiled.

    Amanda was one of my favorite people in the house.  Oh, I liked everybody, but I did have favorites.  Crys, Henry, Davie, Amanda and Nora.  Amanda felt like a mom to me.  I don't remember my real mom, or my dad.  Amanda is the closest I've ever had to the real deal.  I don't think she knows though.  I've never told her.  I had to force myself to call her by name sometimes, just to keep from calling her "mom".  How embarrassing would that be?

    After breakfast, the girls ran off to do whatever and Amanda pulled me off to the side.  The parents would often ask me how the kids were really doing in school, because - you know how kids are - they're vague about how school went.  But that's not what she asked about.

    "Jenna, I've been meaning to ask you something for a while."  I went on alert.  "I would have brought this up with Davie, but I'm afraid of him turning us out if I do.  And I can't very well ask Crys herself.  It's just that I'm concerned for the girls.  I wouldn't have any problem if I was living here by myself, but I have them to worry about as well."

    I didn't skim her thoughts.  She was one of the few people who I never did.  I was freaking out though.  Did she find out about me?  No, she'd said it had something to do with Crys.  Was it my story?  Did she read it!  "Crys has so much money for someone so young.  What we pay her can't be nearly enough to run this place.  She pays Davie, you, and Henry as employees and she downs our rent for helping out here.  I don't see how she can afford this place.  She's secretive.  She leaves for months at a time without telling any of us where she goes, and when she comes back she locks herself in her room...  There've been times where I see something in her eyes or in her expression that scares me a little."

    I relaxed a little, I wasn't in trouble.  But I was still on alert.  She was getting into things that we don't share.  "Look, you and Davie trust her and you two know her the best, so if you're fine with it, I am."  She looked me dead in the eyes.  "But I need to know.  Where does Crys go on her so called business trips.  And where does she get the money to run this place.  I need to know if anything illegal is going on here so I can protect myself and the girls if things go south."

    I almost started laughing.  She thought Crys was a spy or a criminal or something!  "Crys isn't a criminal.  She gets the money for this place from a few different sources.  She's got inheritance money that she uses as well as a few government sponsorships that she got by all but blackmailing them with the constitution."  I lowered my voice a little.  "She's also got a P.I. service that she doesn't tell people about.  She does it completely by phone or e-mail so no one knows who she is, and she doesn't know who they are.  She lets people keep their secrets that way.  Davie and I are the only ones who know about it... and now you do.  That's where she gets most of the money for this place."

    "Is that where she goes for the business trips?"

    Inside, I felt a stab of guilt for the lie I was about to tell her.  I told myself it wasn't a complete lie, though, so it wasn't as bad.  "Yeah, she goes to some contacts she has and follows people for her clients."  She did meet contacts and she did follow people.  It wasn't for her clients though.  All her work for them she did at the house.  I wouldn't tell Amanda what she really did, but I'd told her enough.

    For the rest of the weekend I basically hung out in my room.  I did my homework, read a few books and watched a movie or two, but not a whole lot else.  When Monday morning rolled around I was ready for my art project with Minat.

6: Revelations

    In art on Monday, Minat and I were sharing her iPod again when a song came on that I'd never heard before.  The lyrics hit me hard and I must have been spacing out because Minat kind of shook my shoulder and asked if I was ok.

    "Yeah, I'm fine.  What's this song called?"

    "'We Are Broken' by Paramore.  Why?"

    "I like it."

    "Oh, cool."  She looked down at the painting, tapping the end of her brush on her jaw.  "Does this look okay to you?"

    I leaned over to look at what she was referring to.  She was painting something similar to flames for the background, whereas I was doing some sort of sky thing.  "Yeah, it looks great."

    "It's not too cartoony?"

    I shook my head.  "It's fine.  You're actually really good at painting flames, I wouldn't have done them that well.  Guess it's a good thing you're doing the sin, huh?"

    "If we're going off that logic, then definitely!"  We went back to work on the painting, making small talk as we did.  My mind was still on the song.  They were so similar to me and Crys in general that I was wondering if they somehow knew about our lives.  I could have sworn that the first verse was pulled straight from my mind, and the second verse was all Crys.  I'll take the truth at any cost, 'cause we are broken.  They got that right.

    "Hey, so who do you have for English?"

    "Mr. Bartlet.  Why?"

    "What year assignment did he give your class?"

    "I assume you have him too from the way you're asking?  We have to take a song and rewrite it to be a story, or just plain write it if it's instrumental.  What's yours?"

    "The news.  Make a story out of an article."

    "That sounds cool.  Are you planning on having it last all year?"

    "As of right now?  Yeah.  But it depends.  Are you?"

    "Maybe, it depends on how long it ends up being.  Why does it depends for yours?"

    I paused for a second.  "I know the person it happened to."

    "Oh."  She said it knowingly.  I was grateful that she didn't push.  "So, hey.  I don't have that many friends here and, since you're my only one so far, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out this weekend?"

    "Um, sure."  No one had ever asked me to hang out before, then again most of the kids here knew I lived at the boarding house, so they didn't bother.  "What're we gonna do?"

    "There's a new movie that should be playing at the theater, I wanna go see it."  She told me the name of the movie and I remembered Henry telling me about it.

    "Hey, do you mind if I invite somebody to come with?"

    "Who?"

    "His name's Henry.  He's a senior here, tall-ish, brown hair, brown eyes, freckles everywhere."

    "I think I know who you're talking about.  I've got gym with him last period."

    "Really?"

    "Yeah, hair's in a mess, leaves class early every day."

    "That's him."

    "I don't mind.  So how do you know him?"  She looked at me slyly.  "You don't have a crush on him do you?"

    I burst out laughing.  "No!  He's... my neighbor.  He's like a brother to me, and he's my best friend.  He told me he wanted to see that movie, so, when you brought it up, I thought of him.  It really wouldn't be fair to go see it and not invite him."

    "Ooooh.  Okay then."

---

    In the middle of my first art period the next day, I was called to the office.  I scanned the minds of the people in the office on my way there, to see who else had been called in.  Carson... Jessica?  What was she doing there?  She never got in trouble.  Part of me started to get worried.  My only sign something hadn't happened back at the house was the fact that Henry wasn't there.  I walked into the room, having no idea what was going on, but prepared for anything.

    There were two other boys in the office right next to my kids, they looked like they were eighth graders.  What the hell is going on?  I looked at Medusa.  "What's going on, Mrs. Calvin?"

    "I will let Mr. Carmichael explain the situation to you."  Mr. Carmichael was the school principal.  If he was the one who had to explain what happened, then something really bad was going on.  And it had to do with these four here.  I sat down next to Jessica.  The poor girl looked like she'd seen a ghost.  Carson and the two boys had bruises on their faces and one of the eighth graders had a bloody nose.  Carson's eye was swelling shut.  Obviously they'd been in a fight, but how did Jessica fit into all of this?  Honestly, my only thought was that we were three weeks in and Carson was already picking fights.  He was definitely a handful.

    Mr. Carmichael's door cracked open and he beckoned me in.  I got up and walked into his office, sitting in the chair across from his desk.  Mr. Carmichael was a nice guy, like a grandpa.  So, when he was mad, you know someone really screwed up.  "Miss Arrons, Let me start by saying you are not in trouble."

    I smiled.  "I knew that."  I said in a joking way that made him smile back.

    "You've been called in because two of your kids were caught fighting with two other children.  The parents of the other two boys have been contacted.  As you are responsible for them while they are away from your house, you've been called in.  I know their parents are at work, and I trust you will inform them of the incident upon their return tonight."

    "What happened, anyway?"

    "From what I can discern, the two boys not under your care initiated the fight, but Mr. Dody hit first.  I do not know how Miss Dawson fits into all of this, however."

    I sighed.  "Alright, so... What are they in for?"

    "Mr. Dody will be suspended from school for the next two days.  Miss Dawson will be suspended tomorrow."

    "But, Jessica wasn't fighting, you said so yourself."

    "I believe I said that I do not know how she fits into the situation.  I know that giving her detention would inconvenience all of you, so she will be suspended instead.  I will have it written down on her record as a detention, though.  For the rest of the day, Carson will be in detention, while Jessica will go back to class."

     I sighed.  Inwardly I did a lot more than that, but out loud, I sighed.  Now I am a bit ashamed to say that my only concern at the time was Jessica.  I know I shouldn't be biased, but I've known Jessica for longer than Carson and she's the girl who gets straight A's, never misses a day of school and is the perfect student.  This was going to kill her.  Carson was used to it, however.  I went back to the main office where Medusa wrote notes for Jessica and me.

    One of the boys mumbled, "Why does she get to go back to class?"  Carson shot him a death glare that shut him up instantly.  Jessica and I left the office just before Medusa ushered the three boys towards the in school detention room.  As soon as we were out of earshot, I pulled Jessica aside.

    "Alright, spill.  What happened?"

    Jessica's eyes darted, looking anywhere but at me.  "Nothing."

    "Mr. Carmichael told you it was only going to say detention right?  Is that what's worrying you?  Because I promise, I am not mad at you."

    "No, no, it's not that...  Just... "  I could tell in that moment, by the look on her face alone, that she was about to spill her guts on every detail of what happened, but then she surprised me.  "I came out of the bathroom and saw Carson fighting the other two, that's all."

    This was more complicated than it at first seemed.  Jessica never lies to me, and she was lying worse than a tree after a storm.  She was still shaken though, so I didn't push.  "Alright.  Hurry and get to class before you get into trouble."  At hearing the word 'trouble' her already worried face became the living expression of an alarm bell.  Needless to say she sprinted to class.

    Now, I could have easily peeked in to see what had happened, but I really don't like poking around in my friends' minds.  If they're lying to me they've probably got a reason.  Not that I won't find another way of wringing the truth from them.  When I got back to class, Minat immediately started in on me with questions of what had happened.  After about ten questions in a row, she finally said, "Why were you called in if you're not in trouble?"

    Inside I sighed.  It was time to tell her about my life outside of school... part of it anyway.  "You've heard how some kids here live at a boarding house?"

    She looked confused.  "Yeah, some of the other students have been telling me that.  What does that have to do with anything?"

    "What have they said?"

    She sighed in a very frustrated way, but cooperated anyway.  "I don't know.  That they live there because their families can't afford anywhere else?"

    Under my breath, I said, "They're not far off."  I raised my voice to a more audible level.  Here it goes.  "I'm one of those kids."

    Minat didn't say anything for a moment.  Her face was frozen in an expression that was a cross between 'what?', 'oh shat', 'this is one of those urchins I've been told about?' and 'I just insulted my friend... woops'.  To be completely honest, I would have expected the third one to spring from her mouth, but instead, I was surprised for the second time in ten minutes.  "So?  Why were you called in?"

    Now it was my turn to be shocked.  Minat was way more open minded than the rest of the student body, that's for sure.  "Well, I'm in charge of keeping track and taking care of the school-age kids that live there.  It's my job.  One of them got in trouble and I was called in and notified.  It's part of my job to tell their parents when we get home."

    "That's really your job?  No lie?"

    "Yeah."

    "Like you get paid and everything?"

    "Yeah...  It's kind of like babysitting taken up a notch... or two."

    "That is so cool!  So, you live in the house with all those other people?  What's it like?"

    "Kinda like an apartment building, but closer.  We have dinner together every night and have breakfast on the weekends.  And Friday nights we all watch a movie together."

    "That sounds awesome!  I wish I could live there, but my parents won't let me move out until I graduate.  Don't get me wrong - I love living with them - but I take good enough care of myself that I'm 90% sure that I'd be fine on my own."  She started rattling off reasons why she thought living in a boarding house would be awesome and cool, as well as the advantages and disadvantages of living at home.  Just like that we had moved past the awkward stage of the conversation.  I participated in it enough that she still felt like she had my attention, but inside I was stunned.  None of the other students had reacted that way when they learned I was one of 'those kids'.  We don't really tell our peers that we live there until they outright breach the subject.  Bullying aside, we don't want to be pitied.  Before and after school, no one really pays attention to who gets on and off the Bus, and at lunch, those first few weeks, no one notices our group off in the corner, so we can slide under the radar.  It's in class when we avoid the subject.

    But Minat didn't mind.  In fact, she thought it was cool that I lived at the house.  Cool!  It was so absurd that I laughed a little.  Hearing the laugh, Minat broke off mid-sentence.  "What's funny?"

    I shook my head.  "You are the first person in this whole school, who upon hearing that I live at the house, hasn't acted like I had the plague or looked at me with pity."  I laughed again and looked at her, a bemused smile on my face.

    "Seriously?  Well, I don't know what's up with them, but there's nothing wrong with living at a boarding house."

    "I think I just fell in love with you, Minat."

    "Aw, you flatter me."  She clapped her hands together.  "Now snap out if it!  We got a project to blow minds with!"

    Five minutes before the bell, I trudged my way down to the detention room and collected Carson.  We made our way out the doors just as the bell rang, a stream of kids soon following in our wake.  I steered him over to a bench far away from the other students and asked him what had happened earlier.  "One of them was being annoying so I shoved him, his friend decided he didn't like that and swung at me.  I punched him in the face.  Then we all started swinging at each other.  Jessica came out of the bathroom and tried to get us to stop.  That's when a teacher came out and broke up the fight, you know the rest."

    His tough guy act didn't fool me, neither did his almost impeccable way of making it sound like it was true.  He was lying through his teeth.  From what I'd noticed, Carson sulked before grudgingly saying what he'd done.  He didn't outright say what'd happened like it was no big deal.  This was an outright lie if I'd ever heard one.  "Don't play that game with me.  You and I both know there's more to it than that.  Now tell me what really happened, of I'll make sure you're stuck cleaning the bathrooms at the house for the next month."

    "But - !"

    "Tell.  Me."

    He shut his mouth and glared at me.  "I already told you."  With that, he turned his back on me and walked over to where Jessica was waiting for the Bus.  Watching them as I walked up, it was obvious that Jessica was trying to tell him something.  As I got close I heard Carson say, "Don't worry about it, it's no big deal."  I didn't say anything, however.

    Henry finally got to us then.  "Jenna!  I was looking all over for you, Minat told me that you'd been called into the office, and - "  I shook my head a little and nodded towards where Carson's glower got deeper and Jessica's face became worried all over again.  I mouthed the words 'I'll tell you later'.  He nodded.

    The car ride home was another awkward one, with Jessica getting more and more nervous as we got closer to the house, and Carson back to his habit of glaring out the window and generally hating the world.  No one really spoke, knowing that something had gone down, but not knowing the details.  The only two who did were lying about it.  I felt a migraine coming on.  It was going to be a long week.

---

    "So what happened?  As soon as we'd gotten home, Henry had ushered me into the red room and immediately drilled me for details.

    "There was a fight between Carson and two other boys, Jessica was involved.  They're both lying to me though, and I can't figure out why."

    "Wait, Jessica lied to you?"

    "Yeah, that's how I know something weird is going on."

    "Seriously, I mean, she never lies - to anyone!"

    "I know."  I shook my head.  "The school might not care that much, but I'm getting to the bottom of this."  I turned and stalked out of the room, tracking down the offenders.  I found Jessica first, she was sitting on the couch in the living room, looking like a lost puppy who just had it's bone stolen.  "Hey, you ok?"  Don't ask me why, but instinct told me that she was a victim in all of this... well, instinct and all but seeing the thoughts she was unknowingly radiating.

    She shook her head, looking like she'd just been handed a death sentence.  "I've never been suspended before.  I've never missed a day of school - I've never gotten in trouble!  What am I gonna do?  When my dad gets home, when he finds out I've been suspended - I'm going to be grounded for the rest of my life!  This is going on my permanent record, my future is going down the drain as we speak!"

    "Sweetie, trust me, colleges won't turn you away for one detention you had in the seventh grade.  To be honest, they don't start looking at anything until your junior year."  I gave her a hug.  "Cheer up.  It's not that bad.  You'll just stay home tomorrow, do all your homework.  And stay off the computer and T.V.  That's your house punishment, okay?  You can go outside all you want, but no electronics."

    She sniffled and nodded a watery smile on her face.  "Okay."

    "Okay, now go up to your room and relish as much computer time as you can before your dad gets home."  She smiled weakly and got off the couch like someone who had no energy at all.  The poor girl was acting like the fate of the world had been thrown in her hands and she'd dropped it on accident.  Part of me had to laugh.  If her biggest worries were about school and being grounded, then she had a pretty good life right now.  I just wished she'd have told me the truth, then she wouldn't have a house punishment.

    That's another of my personal beliefs, if you tell me the truth, then you get no extra punishment from me, just what's been dished from others.  And if you had every right to do what you did, then I'll even reward you, despite being in trouble.  As Jessica left the room, I heard a snort behind me.  I turned around to see Carson sporting a disgusted look.  "You know, if you make faces like that, it'll get stuck."

    "Ha, ha.  I see how it is, the good girl gets a slap on the wrist and I get a lecture and twice the punishment.  That's totally fair."

    "Well, if you didn't have a tendency to get your butt in trouble, then I'd feel worse about shoveling on the punishments."  And if you bothered to try and tell me the truth, you'd get out of it.  "Would you just tell me what really happened?  Then maybe I can figure out a way to fix this mess."  Nothing, nada, no response whatsoever.  "I thought you were trying to not get in trouble at school.  Apparently I was wrong."  He hadn't told me this, I'd picked it up from what he'd been sending off subconsciously.  But it was obvious in his attitude that he'd been trying - until earlier that is.

    He moved his eyes from the corner to meet mine, daggers piercing into my skull as he did.  I wasn't bothered by the daggers, but rather his lack of response.  Fine, that's how you wanna play it?  Screw privacy.  I delved into his memories of earlier today.  Going backwards from the moment he snorted at me all the way until right before the fight.  I watched the memory play out in my mind like a scene in a movie.

    Carson coming out of the bathroom and heading back to class. A voice down the hall says, "You're one of those brats that lives at the boarding house! I hear that you all live there because you're dirt poor and can't afford to even rent an apartment, even a motel room is too expensive for you guys!"

    Then Jessica's voice. "Just leave me alone." The trio of kids came into view, Jessica backed up against the wall with the two boys, a grade older blocking her escape. Carson's thought bullies. Carson sped up, walking brisker.

    "Hey." Carson said it as he grabbed one of the boys by the shoulder and spun him around. Before the boy could say or do anything, Carson had punched him in the face, knocking him flat on the ground. The other boy came at Carson and caught him on the eye. Carson, not even flinching, slugged him right in the nose. Jessica was staring wide eyed at the whole ting. The first boy got up and came at Carson again, while Carson fought him off, the boy with the bleeding nose tore into him as well. Carson fought off the two of them for almost a full minute before a teacher came out of the nearest classroom and pulled the boys apart, marching them to Medusa.

    While they were sitting in the office and Medusa called to get me from art, Carson turned to Jessica who was half scared to death. "You came out of the bathroom and saw us fighting. Okay?" Jessica stared at him wide-eyed, but gave no other sign that she'd heard him. At that moment one of the other boys was called into Mr. Carmichael's office and the mini interrogations began.

    I blinked a few times, coming back to the present. Carson was staring at me with a weird expression on his face. Probably because I'd just zoned out. "Why don't you go to your room and wait for Jason to get home." As he stalked past me, I called to him, "And you've got the same house punishment as Jessica, but for both days!" That's what you get for lying to me. Even as he skulked off to his room, probably hating me, I couldn't help the smile that grew on my face. I was proud of him.