I blinked. Crap.
“Foster,” she repeated.
“Here,” I said.
She looked up from the roster with a curious look. “Is there anything I should know about you?”
“No.” Yes.
“I’m the best boxer in the state,” Aaron said from the seat behind me.
“Very impressive, Mr. White. And do you know anything about Supernaturals?” Professor Whatever-her-name-was said.
“Not a thing,” Aaron said, but I could tell by his voice that he was lying. All of them were. They’d been raised by mothers and fathers of our kind. Unlike human children, Supernaturals were raised to a standard. Part of a parent’s job was to teach them about themselves and their past. These children were liars. And I was their queen.
“Okay, well, after today, you will. Now, this is the syllabus for this semester . . . ” She walked down the rows, handing out pieces of paper. I glanced at the sheet. It covered everything, starting with Supernaturals and how they manifested, from a genetic perspective, and going on to well-being, daily precautions, and coping with it. Coping with it? What the hell? She practically talked about it like a disease. We were the greatest beings on this earth. If you couldn’t have pride in that, you didn’t deserve to be a Supernatural.
“Now, we’ll be starting with the section on genes and genetics. This week, we’ll specifically cover how you gain the genes to be a Supernatural. But before we talk about that, does anyone know what being a Supernatural even means?”
No one raised their hand.
“No one has any idea what they are, or wants to take a guess?” She strode across the classroom until she stopped next to my desk. “Ms. Foster, how would you classify yourself?”
“A Supernatural is a person with inherited genes that enable them to manifest abilities when they reach maturity,” I said, giving her the definition I’d just read in the syllabus.
“Very good, Ms. Foster, you can read. Supernaturals are people, yes. However, they are not humans—we are not human. Some of us appear human, but others don’t. We are a species of our own. We may share many superficial similarities with humans, but don’t be fooled; we are very, very different.
“Not only is our species set apart by our abilities—although that’s the biggest known difference—but many of us also have qualities and traits stemming from our unique genes. Any ideas what they are?”
No hands went up right away, but, finally, one crept up.
“Yes, Ms. Hunter,” the teacher said.
“The lifespan of a Supernatural is twice as long as a human’s,” Tori said.
“True. Humans only live to be eighty, on average, and Supernaturals live to be one hundred and sixty-five.”
“Different DNA,” someone said.
“Yes, but I already said that.” She scanned the class, but no one else raised their hands. “What about appearances, personalities, and general health?”
Still no hands went up.
“So, other than your lifespan, genes, and abilities, you have no idea what separates you from humans?” she asked in astonishment.
She turned and went to the blackboard, where she wrote something, while the class started talking. When she finished, she turned around and waited for us to stop. “Well, if you have enough time to talk, you have enough time to do an essay. So, I will be choosing your partner at random, and you and that person will have to write an essay together. This essay will cover defining Supernaturals and the differences between humans and us. It is due on Friday. You’ll find my guidelines for essays in your syllabus. Now, let’s see . . . ” She looked around the classroom then grabbed the roster and started pairing people off.
“Ms. Foster and . . . ” I silently prayed, if there were a god, that I’d get some loser I wouldn’t even have to talk to and who’d do all the work. “Mr. White.”
My heart skipped a beat. I wanted to shatter her into a billion pieces. Aaron was the very last person I wanted to be paired with. I looked at my phone to see how much of this class I had left, and when it was only 2:04, I sighed and put my head on my desk. This just kept getting worse and worse.
“Now, onto class.” She launched into a speech about what we’d be learning this semester and explaining each of the parts of health and how it related to our well-being.
After about five minutes, I got bored and put my earbuds in, cranking up the sound of “It’s My Life” by Bon Jovi, and letting my mind wander. It wasn’t long before I was considering all the ways I could break out of this godforsaken school.
I wanted out. My entire life, I’d always put them first. Their safety. Their happiness. What about me? I hated being here, but there was no way to leave without them—and I’d sworn I wouldn’t do that to them. How could staying be the right choice? How long could I make it? I had to protect them, but nobody here could know what I was.
I was jerked back into reality by the sound of the bell. I took my earbuds out and was grabbing my stuff when someone came up to me and slipped a note into my book. I took it out.
Meet me at 5 in front of the clock
-A.
When I looked up, all I saw was the door closing—but I knew who it was. Balling up the piece of paper, I threw it in the trash as I walked out of class. Outside, I pulled out my schedule and looked at my last class: Battle Simulation. Whatever that was. I’d just started walking when someone called my name.
“Selena!” Lily yelled. “Selena!” I turned to face her as she came running up to me. “What’s your next class?” she said as she tried in vain to stop herself.
“Battle Simulation,” I said as I caught her.
“Me too!” she nearly screamed, and I dragged her away from the staring people.
“How was your day?” I asked politely. Her earlier frustrations seemed to have dissipated.
“Well, it was good until I heard about my sister starting a fight.”
“I didn’t start a fight.”
“Call it what you want, Selena, but it was a fight. And very unlike you, I might add.” She sounded disapproving, and I could tell she’d rehearsed this little speech.
“You’re obsessing,” I said without emotion.
“You’re losing your grip,” she said as we approached a metal door with no handle.
“Name,” an electronic voice said from somewhere.
“Selena Foster,” I said, looking at Lily.
“Lily Foster,” she said, returning my gaze.
“Alexandra Foster,” a voice from behind us said.
The door clicked and opened, and the three of us entered together. It was like a classroom, with desks and a teacher, but behind the desk was a window to another room that looked large and white and empty. A padded room for crazy people. How fitting. My breathing picked up.
The classroom was crowded with students. Only three desks remained, and I headed for the one in the front, hoping to dodge my sisters for another hour. When I got there, I almost wished I’d taken one of the middle ones.
“Why are you late?” the teacher asked, leaning back against the desk.
“We didn’t know where the building was,” I said in a bored voice.
“Ah, you must be the . . . Foster girls?” He looked down at his roster.
“Mm hmm,” I said, like it was obvious.
“Names?” he asked, not looking up. Was that a slight Russian accent I heard behind his words? His name certainly was, but he could’ve been from any of the countries surrounding the federation.
“I’m Selena. The redhead’s Alexandra, and the short one’s Lily.”
He glanced at me and wrote something down then turned his attention back to the class.
“Now that everyone’s here, let’s continue. I am Professor Vonlowsky, and this is Battle Simulation. Who knows what that is?” He pointed behind me. “You.”
“Fighting,” a girl said.
“Yes and no,” Vonlowsky replied. “Can anyone tell me why it is yes and no?”
No o
ne answered.
“So you’re telling me no one in here has any idea what this class is about, and I am wasting my time asking?” He looked around for another moment, but the class remained silent. “Okay, everybody pull out a piece of paper.” He waited until the rustling died down. “I can’t believe out of thirty-seven kids none of you know what you’re doing here.”
It shouldn’t have been a surprise. These kids were clueless about everything. They thought the world revolved around high school and drama, yet no matter how much they tried, they would never be normal. It was sad, in a way, that these people had recreated a high school atmosphere to make the kids feel normal while trying to teach them about themselves. Pitiful was the word.
“Take ten minutes and write a syllabus for this class,” he said. No explanation, no seeing if there were any questions, nothing.
I glanced at the paper, not sure what to write. So I left it blank and waited ten minutes while the whispering of pencils counted down the time.
Vonlowsky paced the room, watching us with frustration on his face. His walk was precise, like a predator hunting prey. It almost seemed as if he were looking for something . . . and then he found it.
“Foster,” he said suddenly. I was already watching him, and it wasn’t me he was referring to. “Bring me your paper.”
There was a flash of red hair when Alexandra appeared.
“Why is there nothing written in it?”
“Because, like, I don’t know any of it.”
“So you’re not going to try at all?”
“Nope. I’m new here. I don’t know any of this shit.” She popped her gum obnoxiously.
“So you don’t know anything. You’re not going to try. You’re speaking like an illiterate, and completely ignoring my authority?”
“Look, you’re not teaching me anything, so why would I try?” I hated it, but I kind of agreed with her.
He looked at her for a moment with an odd expression then started pacing around the room. “Name?”
She looked at him like he was dumb but responded, nonetheless. “Alexandra Foster.” She rolled her eyes.
“Species?” he continued, though we all knew the answer.
“Supernatural.”
“Ability?”
I tensed.
“Fire,” she said, but now there was uncertainty in her voice.
“Level?” he asked.
“Unknown.” The uncertainty was replaced by irritation.
“Potential?” he continued, brushing it off.
“Unknown,” she said grudgingly and flipped her flaming red hair behind her.
“Energy source? Fighting techniques? Specialization classes? Manifestation periods?” This was starting to sound like an interrogation.
“I don’t know. Why are you asking me all this crap anyway?” She rolled her eyes again.
“Because this crap is what battle simulation is. This is the only class you’ll take all three years, and this is the only class that focuses on you, what you can do, and what you’re capable of.” He motioned for her to sit down. “Your abilities are who you are, not just what you can do. When you graduate and leave here, you will have to be prepared. Some of you might go back to the human world and try to continue living in hiding, but most of you will take your place in our society. Battle Simulation is a class meant to prepare you for that, for yourself,” he declared like the charlatan he was. This guy was an imposter. There was no way he was an actual teacher. The only thing he knew how to teach was arrogance.
The bell overhead rang to let school out.
“And that concludes our lesson for today,” Vonlowsky said.
The class filed out, chatting away. As I packed up my things, my sisters approached me.
“You looked very productive up here doing nothing,” Alexandra snapped at me, still fuming from being patronized.
“Could’ve been worse . . . ” I said.
“Sure, you could’ve actually gotten mad and hurt someone,” Lily said, though clearly it wasn’t her place to say so.
“I find it amusing that you can grasp that and not my reasons for not wanting to get back into boxing.” I walked away briskly with a purpose in my step and fire in my eyes.
The metal door was still open, and when I stepped outside, the wind caught my hair and cold brushed against my face. I continued walking until I was almost at my door.
“If you want to continue being a bitch, I have detention to get to, but if you actually want to talk, I have my phone on me,” I said to Lily.
She stood speechless.
“I’ll see you at detention, since you couldn’t keep your mouth shut,” I said to Alexandra.
She just glared at me then smiled spitefully.
I gave her a bitter smile in return before turning my back on them and their judgments.
Screw them. They could be judgmental ingrates together.
Chapter 11
When I got back to my room, it looked like a tornado had come through. Clothes, makeup, and shoes were scattered everywhere. I grabbed my suitcase and rifled through it for something comfy and non-uniform for detention since what I would be doing there was unknown. I pulled out a pair of loose black sweats and a tank top. I changed swiftly and glanced at the clock. I still had time, but if I left now, maybe he’d let me out early.
I pulled on a sweatshirt and headed back to Building One to serve detention with Professor Brighton. My skin warmed as a slight breeze went past. I could feel eyes on me as I walked, but I refused to look. Let the gossipers think what they wanted. I was above that. I knocked when I reached his classroom and entered without waiting for a response.
“You’re early,” he said to me without looking up. “The other one, however, is not.”
I walked up to his desk. “What do you want me to do?”
He appraised me. “Seeing that you’re dressed to work, I’ll give you a choice. You can scrape gum off the bottom of the desks in this room or wash all the windows in the building.” He smiled smugly, and I knew there was some kind of catch.
“Anything else?” I asked.
“Nope,” he said. I looked around the room. That was a lot of desks.
“Windows,” I said after a minute.
“Good choice. There are only six in the entire building.” He got up and gave me a rag and cleaning spray.
“How many desks are there in here?” I asked.
“Sixty.” He chuckled.
Alexandra walked in behind me. She’d also had changed, except it wasn’t into something appropriate for what we were doing. She wore white skinny jeans with black boots and a sequin tank top. She never learned.
I grabbed the bottle of cleaner, went to the first window I saw, and started cleaning.
“You can use this to clean the gum off the desks.” In the reflection in the window, I saw him hand her a scraper and bucket. I choked on my laughter at the horror on her face.
“You’re, like, kidding . . . right?” she asked him, completely bewildered.
“Nope. I guess you should’ve, like, done what you were supposed to, right?” He went back to his desk.
“Ugh . . . ” She groaned, got on her knees, and started scraping.
I hurried through the windows in a rush to get out of there. Around 5:00, I finished and left the building while Alexandra was still scraping. On my way out, she glared at me, but I just kept walking. After I left Building One, I felt like I could breathe again. The sun was setting, and the campus was alive.
Girls gathered around the fountain to watch the water user as he manipulated it to his will, clearly happy with the attention he was getting. People strolled down the pathways, hand in hand, ignoring the occasional couple that was mercilessly making out. Teachers watched from their rooms for any sign of trouble or mischief. The lamps kept the campus lit, but the fireflies made it glow. People were living and enjoying life, while my world crumbled around me.
Lily was right. I was losing my grip. I looked more hellish wi
th each day that passed. It didn’t even compare to the hollowness I felt with my growing isolation. My sisters no longer needed me. At least they didn’t feel they did, and for now, I was inclined to agree.
I put a hand to my right temple, massaging my head in a poor attempt at getting rid of the migraine. After walking stiffly back to my room, I raided our bathroom for painkillers. Clearly one of my roommates was a pill popper because there were also stimulants, antibiotics, and prescription meds. I downed four Tylenol and stumbled into bed, not even bothering to turn the light off as I got some much-needed sleep.
~.~.~.~
Wake up . . .
The haze of sleep eased as I slowly came back to awareness. The room was too bright. I groaned and rolled over to look at the clock, but fell out of bed and landed on the floor with a thud. My head banged against something hard, and there was a flash of pain that faded as quickly as it had come. I dragged myself off the ground, getting a good grip on my bed to pull myself up. This was pretty pathetic. I was stumbling around like a drunk person, but I wasn’t inebriated in the slightest.
Outside my window, complete darkness had replaced the full moon. Stars were just starting to appear, and my headache wasn’t any better, likely from banging it. I grimaced. The cafeteria lights were on, and I remembered Alexandra, who would probably still be working until late tonight. I was going to do something nice for her—maybe then she would lay off.
I walked out of the building and took off at a sprint toward the cafeteria, hoping to get rid of the ache. The wind on my face was blissful. Exhilarating. I needed this. At the very least, it would help me stay in control tonight while I was with Alexandra. The distance between the cafeteria and me closed far too soon. I slowed to a stop and strolled in.
The overhead lights were so bright I winced. Hurrying, I grabbed a salad and a slice of pizza. As I was getting two waters, someone bumped into me. The plate of pizza toppled off my tray. A hand swiped it out of the air.
“Thank you—”
Aaron. His black eyes studied me for a second before he set the food on the tray and let me pass. I suppressed the shiver that fought to run through me. I felt him watching me as I swerved through the cafeteria and walked swiftly across campus. The lights in Building One were still on and the door was unlocked.
Daizlei Academy Omnibus Collection Page 8