Young Writers Society

I chuckled helplessly along with several others as Neon blushed more and more. He tried to hide it in his scarf, but it was still easily visible. While no one knew for sure about Neon's crush on Riley apart from me, after today, most would have probably guessed it. I immediately stopped laughing when Neon fell to the ground unconscious. I jumped up and ran to the front of the class.

I looked anxiously at Mr. Poe and said, "We should get him to the Nurse's office!" Mr.Poe nodded, looking shocked, and told a couple of other boys to help me get Neon the Nurse's office.

Leaving Neon in the capable hands of Nurse Johnson, I went back to class, but Mr. Poe wasn't in a state to continue teaching, so he gave us a free period. So, I just did some homework, wishing fervently that Emma was there. She and I sometimes had good conversations at times like this.

The rest of the periods passed in a blur until Biology where I was once again struck by the lack of students. I remembered the dream I had had. Did the MEL do something to us? And was my dream real? All these people coming down with illness is very suspicious... But I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind. It couldn't have been real. It was too weird to have been real. but I knew that I was just trying to convince myself.

Still, I repressed those thoughts and did my best to focus on class. After Mr.Neil had taken attendance, he said, "Since there are only six of you today, I will only do a reading of the chapter and not any explanation as such." and proceeded to just that. His lack of concern about the absentees was unsettling. He acted like none of it surprised, or even like he had expected it.

Six absentees, some absent for a while no, and he acts like it's normal. Something weird is going on, and I have got to figure out what it is. After class I went up to Gwen and gave her notes to give Emma from other classes we shared, so she didn't miss anything. I also requested her to give me updates on ho she's doing.

"Okay, okay!" Gwen replied in mock annoyance. "Unless she's taken a turn for the worse since yesterday, she's fine! But don't worry, I'll send you an email like I do everyday."

"Thanks." I replied with a grin.

Gwen grinned back and said, "No problem. Oh, and she thinks you're sweet for caring so much, and she said to say thank you."

"N-no problem." I replied stutteringly, feeling myself start to blush. She thinks I'm sweet. Maybe I do have a chance after all... And I was lost in daydreams about becoming Emma's boyfriend for the entire bus ride home.

A couple of hours later, I had convinced myself to act rationally and not jump to conclusions about her feelings for me. But I still waited anxiously by my laptop, waiting for the momentous email that always came around that time. I nearly screamed with joy when Gwen's email bout Emma's condition finally arrived, and I opened it with bated breath.

The email's subject was 'The Poor sick Girl..." and in it was photograph of Emma sitting up on her bed, her legs under the covers, a huge bowl of popcorn on hr lap. She was smiling and waving at the camera. I grinned, amused.

Well, at least she's doing alright. But thoughts about Emma falling sick stirred deeper thoughts. Someone from my Biology class was falling sick every day or two. It was too much of a coincidence. Could the MEL have had something to do with this? And that brought up more thoughts about my dream, which seemed more and more like it could be real. My mind was messed up with those thoughts for the rest of the day while I tried to figure out what exactly was happening, right until it was time for bed.

Suddenly, I woke up in cold sweat. I had had a strange dream which I couldn't recall. I looked at the clock on my bedside table and was astounded by what I saw. everything was close up My eyes could see everything in excellent detail!

Woah, have I developed superpowers? I gt up and stumbled to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Then I screamed. Or well, I tried to, but all that came out was a small, shocked squawk. In the mirror, I saw that my head had disappeared, and in it's place was a dark brown eagle's head! I stumbled backward and tripped over a shoe that I had stupidly left on the floor, and I fell back, my head rushing to meet the bathroom floor. My last thought before I lost consciousness was Am i losing my mind?

3 days away from school, and I’m going insane. Thankfully Dan’s notes are somewhat keeping me on track, but at this point I need to get back as soon as possible. Today has been so much better. I am able to get out of bed, my fever has gone down, and I haven't gotten sick for over 24 hours. Gwen is a miracle worker, but I still fear that she is going to get sick too.

Gwen and I are in the middle of a board game when my mom gets the call about Riley. It all happens so fast. The rushing out of the house, the long car ride, the heavy breathing. You know that feeling of falling? When your stomach goes to your lungs. That's what this feels like. I’ve known about Riley’s condition for awhile now, but it's never been a stop sign for her. It doesn't change who she is, or how she acts. In fact her condition has always made her a stronger person. Riley always takes care of me, so when I get news like this it almost doesn't feel real.

When we arrive at the hospital I don't wait for mom and Gwen to catch up. I head straight for the waiting room, and I don't look back. Along the way I almost run into a familiar face.

Cole?

Why is he here?

No time for questions now. I rush up to the desk, and take a moment to catch my breath.

“Hello. I’m here to see Riley West.”

“Are you family?” The young nurse asks asks she types in the name on the computer.

“Well no, but-”

“Then you can't see her. I'm sorry. Only kin is allowed.” The nurse interrupts.

“No you can't do that!” I snap.

“Young lady. I suggest you go sit down. The only thing you can do for your friend right now is wait.” She snaps back.

“Emma?” I turn to see Riley’s mom come out of the double doors leading to the back.

“Mrs. West!” I run to her. “How Riley? Is she okay? What happened?”

“Emma. Emma calm down. She’s okay. I promise. The doctors honestly don't know what happened. They assumed it was her heart, but when they took some tests her vitals were okay. Improved even. They are honestly baffled as to why she passed out. She’s awake and okay. Just a little shaky. They decided to keep her for the rest of the afternoon for testing.” Mrs. West turned to the nurse right as my mom and Gwen walked through the waiting room doors. “If you want you can visit her real quick, but not for too long.”

“Okay.” I smile and follow Mrs. West through the double doors towards Riley’s hospital room. A nurse is taking her blood pressure when we reach the doorway. When Riley sees me her face instantly lights up.

“Emmy! Your up and alive!” She jokes.

“I could say the same for you. You scared the pee out of me.”

“My bad. I should have given you a heads up about the whole passing out thing.” She laughs. “Although I wish these people would release me. I can't stay this still this long. I feel fiiinnnnee.” She calls after the nurse who leaves the room. I laugh.

“So what's new?” She asks. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better.” I say. “But you wanna know something strange. You know the new kid. Cole right? Yeah, he is out in the waiting room right now.”

“You’re joking.” She laughs. “That’s a good one Em.”

“Dude I’m serious.” I reassure.

“Wait really? That’s weird.”

“Just a bit.” I say.

“Oh yeah I forgot to tell you. He is kind of the new guitar player. Drew kind of broke his hand.” She shrugs.

“Wow. I’m gone three days and I miss everything.”

“Yeah. You kind of do. By the way I may have also made Neon pass out in English class.” I can't help but burst out in laughter.

“Are you kidding me?!” She starts laughing as well.

“Nope.” For the next twenty minutes Riley and I catch up on school, her crazy new boy situations, and even this huge gig the band had coming up. I didn't realize how much I missed her until today.

After our twenty minutes were up, the nurse kindly escorted me from the room. I told my mom about Riley, and we left the hospital. On our way home we dropped off Gwen, and grabbed some food from Al’s Pizza. The first food I have kept down in 3 days.

Praise!

The first thing I do when I get home is head for the shower. I spend a good 15 minutes in there letting the hot water wash across my achy body. When I get out something strange happens. Feathers cover both of my arms. I stare at them in the mirror and try to brush them off but they don't budge.

The heck?!

I grip one of them between my fingers, and pull. It comes out in one swift motion, and I yelp in pain.

“You okay honey?” My mom calls from outside the bathroom door.

“Yeah mom....everything is fine…” I stare at my arms baffled.

Oh. My. God.

Everything is not fine.

I walk into the gym at 7AM sharp, just like Riley told me to. I'm rarely on time to anything, but for this, I figure I should try a little harder. Ironically, though, as I make my way up the stairs and onto the stage, I don't see Riley anywhere. Seriously? You tell me to get to school an hour early when you're not even here yourself? Figures...

The other band members greet me and shake my hand, then go back to preparing for practice. Hooking up amps, tuning instruments, checking microphones... I pull my electric guitar out of it's case and sit down on one of the larger amps. I figure I might as well make sure it's in tune while I'm waiting. It's not like I've got anything better to do.

I've got five strings tuned when the door to the gym swings open and Riley comes in. It's about time... When the door clicks shut, she bursts out laughing.

I give her a look. "What's up with you?"

When she contains her outburst, she runs up the stage steps and just shakes her head at me, although she still has a huge smile on her face. I roll my eyes. Silly girls... Standing up, I pull the strap of my guitar over my shoulder and dig around in my pocket for a guitar pick.

One of the other band members comes over and sets a music stand in front of me. A paper with guitar chords scribbled on it sits in the tray. I give the guy a questioning look. "The chords for the song," he says. "Just until you have it memorized."

"I think I've got it... but thanks." It's not like Riley gave me the chords for it yesterday or anything.

The guy gives me a nod and walks back to his drum set. Riley looks back at us. "You ready?"

We all reply in agreement, casting glances around at each other. She gives us a nod and turns back to face the front. "One. Two. Three. Four..."

The song starts with just a quiet plucking of a single note from the bass player. Riley starts singing and I'm surprised at how good she sounds. So much so, that I almost miss my cue to join in. I catch it though, then the drums come in and before I know it we've got a full-blown song going on. A smile spreads over my face. This is kinda cool...

Then the music gets really loud. Like, window shaking loud. Barely able to stand it, I look over at the other band members, but they act as if nothing has changed. Then it quiets down to a reasonable level again. I shake my head, clearing it of the confusion and concentrate on the song again. I don't know what they were worried about... This song is so easy...

The sound explodes again, even louder than before, and I stop playing. It's deafening... crippling. How are they not bothered by this? A high-pitched ring echoes through my ears and I place my hands over my ears, hoping to make it stop. The music gets quieter, and then something else joins into the mixture of sounds. My heartbeat. It becomes so loud that it drowns out the music and it's all I hear. Overwhelmed by it all, I start to sink to the floor. Then I hear a snap! and the heartbeat in my ears is gone. The ringing dissipates and the volume is back to normal again.

Looking around at the others, I realize none of them noticed me, which I'm thankful for. Had someone asked me what was wrong, I wouldn't be able to tell them. Because I have no idea. I complete the rest of the song with ease... no more issues or weird sounds, and I decide to write it off as lack of sleep. Who voluntarily gets up at six-thirty in the morning?

Riley looks back at us. "That was good, guys! Lets try out that intro we've been working on this week. I think it's just what the song needs." She turns back around and points to the bass player. "Hit it!"

They start playing once again, then the drums join in and Riley begins to sing. I find myself watching her again, which is the only reason I catch onto her change in expression. One second she's singing confidently at the mike like she did the first song, and the next her smile wavers and she presses her eyebrows down like something's bothering her. She shakes her head and tries to regain her previous show of confidence, but then her legs sway a little and she grips onto the microphone stand, cutting off the verse she was singing. One by one, the other kids in the band catch on and stop playing their instruments, the song abruptly being cut short. "Riley? You okay?" the base player asks.

"Y-yeah...I think..." Before she can finish her sentence, her legs buckle from under her and she falls off the stage. My jaw drops as I franticly pull my guitar off my shoulder, half setting it, half throwing it to the side. I fly down the stairs and am the first one to get to her.

"Riley... Riley..." I sit down next to her and pull her head into my lap, off of the cold, hard floor. Lightly tapping her cheek with the back of my hand, I continue to try and wake her. "Riley... Riley!" Her head just falls to the side, out cold.

I shake my head. This isn't getting us anywhere. Looking up at the other band members, they just look on, frozen with wide eyes, unsure of what to do. As I start to stand up, I call back to them and say "Someone call 911." At once, they all scramble around like idiots looking for their phones.

I pull Riley up into my arms and hurry as quickly as I can out of the gym and towards the nurses office. What the heck happened?

+ + +

Looking at my watch, I see I've been sitting in the waiting room of the hospital for about fifteen minutes, with no signs of any doctors coming out with info. I am worried... definitely more than I expected to be... but I also can't help but be curious as to why she took a nose dive off the stage when the minute before she was fine.

Getting impatient, I head for the desk to try and get some info. But then an ambulance drives past the entrance with it's sirens blaring and it feels like my ear is literally pressed against the speaker. I stumble to the side, catching myself with my hand on the wall. I widen my eyes, feeling like my head is going to explode. When the ambulance passes, the sirens get quieter, but everything else around me is still way louder than it should be. Footsteps. Nurses typing on keyboards behind the counter. Conversations being had in a nearby room. I can hear it all with crystal clarity. Then someone slams a car door and I'm snapped back out of it and everything is back to normal. What is going on with me? I must be losing my mind...

A woman hurries through the front door and heads for the counter. "I'm here to see a Riley West," she says.

"Are you family?" the nurse asks.

"I'm her mother."

The nurse nods and gets up from her seat. "Right this way." They disappear through the double doors of the E.R. and I head for the desk once again.

"Hey, do you have any information on Riley West?" I ask.

"Are you family?"

"Yes... I am. I'm her twin brother, Cole."

The nurse gives me a skeptical look. "Her file doesn't say she has a twin brother."

"Yeah, that's the thing..." I lean my elbow on the counter. "I'm sort of her long lost twin brother."

"Long lost twin brother?"

"Yeah... It's a long story. Our mom put me up for adoption. Riley was just so much of a handful she couldn't handle us both. And then there was a money issue and something with a firecracker and next thing you know she's shipping me off to Boston. It's all very sad. Heartbreaking, really. I'm scarred for life. But we were reunited last year and it's like we were never apart. Glued at the hip, you could say. And you know, I just got her back and I'm worried about her."

"Uh huh..."

I give her an exaggerated sigh and look off in the distance. "I don't know what I would do if something happened to Riley. My dear, darling sister."

The nurse shakes her head. "I don't know how think I would believe a word you said... but your effort is amusing." She looks at me for a moment, then sighs. "All I'm going to say is that they're still running tests. Will you go away now?"

I give her an annoyed look and shuffle back into the waiting room and sit back down in one of the chairs. Well, that wasn't worth the effort.

+ + +

Another fifteen minutes of waiting, and Emma bursts through the doors of the waiting room, making a B-Line for the nurses desk. She stops for a moment when she sees me, and stares at me for a second, confused. I stare back, surprised to see her myself. Then she just shakes her head and rushes away, towards the desk. Of course now, when I want to hear better, I can't. I struggle to listen in, but it's no good until the nurse shakes her head and says something and Emma slaps her hand down on the counter and yells, "No, you can't do that!”

The nurse stands up and raises her voice. "Young lady. I suggest you go sit down. The only thing you can do for your friend right now is wait."

Then Mrs. West comes back through the double doors and Emma explodes with questions for her. Mrs. West puts her hands on Emma's shoulders to calm her. "Emma. Emma calm down. She’s okay. I promise," she begins to explain. I lean closer to them. "The doctors honestly don't know what happened. They assumed it was her heart, but when they took some tests, her vitals were okay. Improved even. She’s awake and okay." Then they disappear through the double doors. Her heart? Why would they think it was her heart?

I shake my head and stand up. It sounds like she'll be alright and that was all I needed to hear, so I head for the doors. Just before I make it there, Neon barrels into the waiting room, scarf trailing behind him. "Where is she! Where is she!" He franticly looks around the waiting room, where he has successfully gotten the surprised attention of everyone inside. He looks up at me and narrows his eyes. "You... What are you doing here?"

"Calm down, squirt. Riley's fine. And you might as well save yourself some time and leave now. They're not letting anyone back there."

"Stay away from Riley! She's mine!" He pushes the flap of his scarf over his shoulder. "And don't call me squirt!"

I chuckle a little at his exasperation. "Okay, whatever you say, little man." I ruffle his hair with my hand on my way out the doors. "Later, squirt."

"Wuaaaaaurgh!" I moaned to Ryker, leaning my head back over the edge of the stage and letting my tongue loll out for added affect. "It was soooo boooring!"

Ryker smiled a little. "You were only there for an afternoon."

I gave him a meaningful look. "Exactly."

"Oh you poor thing." Ryker grins sarcastically. Then he suddenly became serious. "So, what was it that made you pass out? Do you think it was..."
Ry tapped the spot over his heart.
I shrugged. "I thought so, but the doctor said my heart was fine. I'm as confused as you are, Ry." I said, throwing out an exaggerated shrug.

The bell rang and I turned myself upright and bounced down the stairs of the stage.

"Well, another day in Algebra. Hooray! See you later, Ry!"

I burst out into the hall and guess who was right outside the door?

Oliver Pascal.

And I practically slammed straight into his back.

He turned around, clearly surprised. He looked right at me, fixing me with those beautiful green eyes.

Oh, great going! what do I do now? I mean, should I say something? Gosh, what should I say to him? Just Hi? Or something else?...

I felt about a million degrees hotter than I did before, and the he spoke. His voice was as captivating as his eyes.

"Oh...Hi there."

I froze, opened my mouth in an effort to say something, closed it, and bolted down the hall in other direction.
My cheeks were still burning, and as I pelted down the hall, I scolded myself with every footfall.

Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!

I passed Cole on my way down the hall. He looked mad about something.

"Riley-" He started to say, but I pushed past him and kept running, shouting over my shoulder at him,

"NotNowGottaGoBye!"

I thrust into the Marmoset Man's classroom, among the first to arrive.

Mr. Monkey seemed surprised I was actually on time.

I had never been so happy to be in math class in my life.

......

Cole sat at my table at lunch that day.

Wonderful. Oliver in the morning, Cole in the afternoon.

"Hey." I mutter, not looking up from my journal. I finished my sentence and closed the book just as he started to peer over my shoulder.
Cole shrugs.

"So, that guy in the hall."

I flushed a violent shade of red. No way was I talking about Oliver with this guy!

"You were at the hospital the other day." I said in an attempt to change the subject.
"Emma said she saw you in the waiting room."

"Yeah, I was there. But anyway, What-His-Chavez in the hall, the lanky kid."

"What were you doing there?" I asked pointedly.

"You realize he probably doesn't even know your name, right?"

I sighed. For whatever reason, Cole wasn't going to let this go.

"Why do you even care?" Was all I said before leaving to find Emma.
......
I was taking books out of my locker for last period when someone bumped into me. It was just hard enough to make me drop my books and let me know it was on purpose.

Now, before I go on, I'd like to point out that I don't go around plugging everyone in the eye. But that day, I really, really wasn't in the mood to be picked on.

I collected my books, power-marched over to the guy who had pushed me, grabbed his shoulder, turned him around, punched him right in the face.

No questions.

No words exchanged.

The dude looked completely baffled. standing there with his mouth hanging half open.

My work done, I dropped the Mic, and stalked off to Biology.

Ryker sighed as he walked to his first class after talking to Riley. He was glad that she was back, and more than relieved that she was okay, but he couldn't seem to shake the feeling that something was off. What were the odds that after that field trip, more than half of the class had gone home sick, or were acting strange?

"They can't make us sit in those things! They're prototypes!"

Charlotte's concern from the day of the field trip came back to him, and Ryker stiffened. What if she had been right? What if something had been wrong with the medical chairs?

What if...what if they had caused them to fall ill?

He shook his head as he slid into his chair of his first class.

That's ridiculous. The scientists would never put kids into an unsafe situation.

He pulled out his math textbook and began scanning the lesson ahead, but his heart wasn't in it. He tried again to convince himself.

They would have tested the MICs a million times before we tried them. It has to just be a bug of some sort going around. The flu or something.

But why had it not spread to the rest of the school? Why was it only the field trip group who was falling like flies?

Ryker's breathing felt too shallow. He wasn't usually one to get paranoid about illness, but it seemed as if he was one of the last students in his class to be affected. Would he end up in the hospital too?

His math teacher started talking, and Ryker tried to focus, to distract himself. He tried to write down his notes, but his hand was shaking. He felt light-headed, dizzy.
He took a deep breath.

You're just freaking yourself out. Calm down.

But his breathing really did feel irregular. And his balance didn't feel quite stable anymore.

Maybe I should go get checked by the nurse, to prove that my fears are all in my head.

Yeah, that was a good idea. She'd take his temperature, check his heart and whatnot, and he'd go away feeling assured that nothing was wrong.

He pondered this for a moment more before raising his hand. His chest twinged.

"Yes, Ryker?"

"Uh," he stammered, his brain slow. How could he suddenly forget what he was going to say? "I...I don't feel very good."

The class murmured and those closest eyed him cautiously.

His teacher raised an eyebrow. "Do you need to go to the nurse?"

"Uh...yeah?"

Was it just him, or was his heartbeat terribly slow in his ears?

"I'll write you a pass. Do you need someone to walk with you?"

Ryker swayed in his seat. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

"No," he heard himself saying. "I'll be okay."

His teacher nodded uncertainly and held up the slip of paper. "Okay. Go on then. Feel better soon."

Ryker reached for his backpack and stood slowly, feeling as if his every movement was in slow motion. His head was wrapped in fog. His heart beats were too far apart, too much silence between them.

Bum...ba...bum. Bum...ba...bum.

Maybe he actually needed the nurse, after all.

As his knees straightened, his dizziness peaked. He staggered forward, then caught himself. The fog cleared for a moment, and he swung his backpack up and around, sliding his other arm through.

His teacher watched him in concern, but let him take the pass and go out the doors.
Ryker gripped the cold door knob tightly and focused on closing the door softly. This simple task required so much effort, and his eyes scrunched up in worry. Something was wrong.

The click of the door met his ears, Ryker looked around him in concern.

Where...am I? He shook his head, his chest tightening in pain. School. Nurse. Right.

He had forgotten two simple things already. He needed to hurry and get to the nurse.

Gripping his backpack straps tightly, Ryker started to venture down the hall, his breathing ragged. His heartbeats slowed even more.

Bum...ba.....buumm...

He should have had someone walk him.

Then his breath caught in his chest, and the hall swung about him in one violent swoop. He felt himself falling, his skull cracking on the tile floor...

Darkness.

Walking down the halls of Silver Creek High, I try to put all the pieces together of everything that happened last week. Starting with my weird flu...thing. I felt like crap for about a day and after that I was fine. But three people from Mr. Neil's class missing most of the week? Neon fainting and Riley being taken to the hospital? Could these all be coincidences? I mean... I guess Riley ended up being fine and Cole and I have been fine with the exception of my one-day fluke. I'm probably just being paranoid.

I have a few extra minutes before my next class starts, so I decide to step in the bathroom quick. Coming out of the stall, I head for the sinks. Wash. Rinse. Grab paper towels. When I look back at the mirror, deep orange eyes have replaced my normal blue ones. Startled, I let out a squeak and take a step back, crashing into one of the stalls behind me. But I don't black out this time. They don't disappear when I blink. I stare at them and they stare at me. They're my eyes, after all. I'd thought it had just been a hallucination when I was sick. I mean, I did have a pretty high fever. They'd been gone when I had woken up. But I'm not sick anymore.

I just stand frozen, staring at my reflection. Then I suck in a deep breath, realizing I haven't breathed for about half a minute. "What's happening to me?" I take a couple slow steps closer to the mirror and bring a shaky hand up to my face. They're my eyes... The orange fills my entire eye, the whites no longer there, and the normal roundness of my pupil has reshaped itself into slit, much like a cats. No, not like a cats... "It's like a fox..."

The bell rings and it startles me so much that I gasp. Oh, no no no... I can't go into class with my eyes looking like this. Whatever this is. I pull my backpack up into the sink and quickly fumble through it until I come out with a pair of sunglasses. I put them on and you'd never know it to look at me. So I decide it's the best I can do for now and, trying to keep it together, I hurry to class. Slipping into my seat in Mr. Collin's history class at the last second, I make it just in time and I think I'm off the hook.

Mr. Collin starts taking attendance and stops when he sees me. He gives me a look and walks back to my desk. My heart begins to beat faster. "Layla. The sunglasses please."

"I... have a migraine. I'm really sensitive to light today. Mind if I leave 'em on just this once?"

Mr. Collin shakes his head. "I know yesterday was Sunday and you probably had a party to go to... and I don't really care what you do with your weekend, as long as you don't come into my class hungover."

"What? I'm not hung-"

"Layla. The glasses. Now," he orders.

My heart starts to pound. Reluctantly, I reach up to grab onto the rims. Oh gosh. He's going to see. They're all going to see...

With shaky hands, I pull off the shades and look at him, expecting him to look back at me shocked or surprised... But his annoyed expression doesn't change and he takes the sunglasses out of my hand. "Thank you. Now was that so hard?" he says, walking back to the front.

Confused, I look around at the other kids. They don't act unusual either. Just the occasional student chuckling or whispering to a friend, about me I'm sure. A realization hits me and a scramble for the pocket mirror I have in my bag. Flipping it open, I see my eyes are back to normal, just as blue and white and round as they've always been.

I slump back in my seat with a sigh. Thank god...

"Okay, kids. This week I'll be pairing you up with a partner for a report on 'Detectives In History', due on my desk by Friday. Pick one specific detective and collaborate to write an extensive, ten thousand word essay." He lists off a few kids who are to be partners, then he says, "Gray with Woods..." I look over at Jinx's desk, which is empty. Like it was all last week. Annoyed, I raise my hand. "Yes, Ms. Woods."

"Jinx Gray isn't here. He hasn't been here for a whole week."

"Well... I guess this is the perfect start to your assignment, then! Putting yourself in the shoes of a detective and tracking down your partner." He gives me a nod, then continues on with his list. I give him a glare. He can't be serious...

~ ~ ~

The bell rings out through the school, telling us that it has ended for another day. I take my time putting my books back in my bag and heading for my locker and by the time I head out, the halls are almost completely empty. Which is why I notice three jocks turn the corner and head down another hall like they've got somewhere they need to be. Generally not a good thing this time of day... It grabs my attention and I follow after them. Turning the corner, I see they've joined two other guys who are beating the crap out of someone. The odds of me being able to take on five guys without being beat up myself are slim... but I can't bring myself to turn away. So I sprint for them, grab one guys shoulder and punch my fist into his face. He stumbles away and I kick the next guy, first in the back, then in the neck. He falls against the wall and I run for the third guy, tackling him to the ground. I punch him a couple times before someone grabs me from behind and pulls me off of him. I fight the guy who grabs me, but he's so much bigger than me that it's not much use and he slams me into the wall.

Turning to face them, I see they're all coming for me now. I think I've made them mad. And none of my attempts kept any of them down for long. At least the attention is off of the other kid. I put up my fists, attempting to be ready for them. The guy closest to me widens his eyes and a look of fear crosses his face. One by one, the others in his group take on similar expressions, some even looking horrified. "Hey, guys. Let's get out of here!" A couple of them take off down the hall.

"Freak!" One of the others says as the rest follow the first. I tilt my head and press my eyebrows down for a moment. What's up with them? Then my eyes shoot wide and I turn to look at my reflection in the shiny metal of the lockers. Fox eyes. I see them again, and this time I see them fade back to my normal blue. I shake my head. What is going on? Then I remember there had been another kid and I whirl around to see her sitting against the glass windows that make up the wall, legs sprawled out in front of her, trying to catch her breath.

I tilt my head. "Riley?"

She coughs a couple times. "Hey. You should have seen the other guy. Mind giving me a hand?"

I hurry over to her and help her up off the ground. "Why were they beating the crap out of you?"

Riley winces. "It may have had something to do with me punching one of them in the face earlier."

I pull her arm over my shoulder and help her to walk. "Why did you punch him?"

"Don't get me started... But he started it."

I push open the bathroom door and help Riley to slide up onto the counter. I wet some paper towels and get a good look at her face. Bloody nose, possibly broken. A black eye. Bruises along the left side of her face. I shake my head at her. "Man, they got you good, didn't they?" I start carefully cleaning some of the blood from her nose. She winces again and pulls away. "Hold still," I order her. She gives me an annoyed look and relaxes again.

"Think anyone will notice?" she asks, although she says it with irony, like she knows the answer must be obvious.

I give her a chuckle as I wet another piece of paper. "Nah... that's what concealer is for."

"Thank you..." She tilts her head. "Why are you doing this?"

"It's nothing... I just don't tolerate bullying. That's all. I actually didn't even know it was you until after they were gone. What I don't get is why you punched the guy? I mean, I don't know you very well... but that just doesn't seem like you."

"Bad day." She sucks in a breath when I clean a more sensitive spot. "Cole got on my nerves..."

"Tell me about it..." I say with a shake of my head.

She sighs. "Made an idiot of myself in front of this boy I like..."

"Mmm... Mind if I ask who?"

Riley hesitates and gives me a slightly embarrassed look. "You may not know him... Oliver Pascal?"

My heart jumps and I cough to try and cover up my surprise as I grab more paper towels. Oliver is my crush... "Oh, Oliver... I think I've seen him around," I say as casually as I can. "Seems like a nice guy."

"Yeah... He's cute isn't he?"

"Not bad..." I fold the paper towels and soak them with water, then turn to her. "Here, you might want to put these on your eye. I think I've done all I can in a girls high-school bathroom, though."

She takes them from me and slides back off the counter. "Thank you... again."

"Don't even mention it. It's nothing. Just try and avoid punching jocks in the face for awhile. Seriously... that's a really stupid thing to do."

Riley chuckles as she presses the paper towel against her eye. "Will do."

We head out of the school expecting an empty parking lot only to find it filled with the flashing lights of an ambulance and at least a hundred by-standers as a kid with dark skin is hauled into the back on a stretcher. Riley and I exchange concerned glances, then hurry closer to find out what's going on. I'm able to catch a glimpse of the kids face just before the stretcher is slid all they way into the ambulance and my breath catches. "That's Ryker..." Turning to the kid on the other side of me, I nudge them and say, "hey, what happened?"

"Dunno for sure. He said he wasn't feeling well and next thing you know he's found unconscious on the floor in the hallway. I heard his heart was barely beating. He was probably out there for at least a half an hour before anyone found him."

Riley shakes her head and pulls out her phone. "I gotta go... Thanks again, Layla," she says as she hurries away.

People getting sick... fainting... hospitalizations... fox eyes... this has to be connected... doesn't it? And Jinx... he's been gone ever since the field trip. I haven't even heard anything about him.

I start to become paranoid... worried even. Of all the stories building up from our science class, what's his?

~ ~ ~

I look down at the piece of paper in my hands, then up at the number written on the side of the apartment building. It's a match. Supposedly, this is where Jinx lives. I need to talk to him about our history assignment and I'd really like to put my paranoia at rest. I'm sure he's fine. Just came down with the flu like Emma and Charlotte did.

I shoulder my backpack and head into the old building. Up one flight of stairs, I walk down the hall with creaky floors and stained walls until I make it to door 208. I go to knock, but the door is already open and swings when I try. That's odd... I peer inside and don't see anyone. Consider leaving, but something just doesn't feel right. So I look down both directions of the hall, then slip quietly into the apartment.

It's small and old, but not the worst place to live. Although, the place is trashed. The floor is littered with furniture stuffing and glass and items strewn about. Were they broken in to? "Jinx?" I say aloud, but the only sound I hear is the hammering of my own heart. I carefully make my way through the apartment, trying not to step on things that aren't already broken. I wander into the small bedroom and call out for him again, but no answer. Just as I peek my head into the closet, a rumbling sound rises up behind me. I don't know what it is, but it makes my blood run cold. With a start, I realize it's growling. But not from a dog. It's deeper, more intense. I slowly turn around to find myself staring into the eyes of a 475 pound Siberian tiger.

I stand frozen. Heart pounding, hands shaking. I don't even know how to wrap my head around the fact that there's a tiger in Jinx's apartment. It roars at me and I try desperately to keep myself from losing it. Then suddenly, it jumps for me and I duck at the last second. It misses me by inches and crashes into the clothes in the closet behind me.

Adrenaline floods my system as I run as fast as I can for the hallway. Why the hell is there a tiger in the apartment? Guard dog? Unwelcome guest that ate Jinx? I bet animal control has never gotten a call about a tiger infestation.

Skidding out into the hallway, I grab the handle and try to slam the door closed, but the tiger is there and grabs onto the door, it's giant claws digging into the old wood. I fight with it until I realize my strength is nothing compared to the tiger and let it go. I sprint down the hall, the tiger barreling after me. I don't bother running down the stairs, I just jump and hope I land at the bottom, which I do, slamming into the wall and barely keeping my footing. I use the last scrap of energy I have to make a bee-line for the metal-framed glass door that leads to the outside. I throw the door open just as the tiger has made it down the stairs and this time, I click the door closed a split second before the tiger gets there. Gasping for air, I laugh at my success, slightly hysterical at this point. My whole body trembles and I run a hand through my hair as I watch the tiger clawing angrily at the glass, drawing claw marks in the clear surface. It looks like it's going to try to break through the glass when suddenly it swings it's head back and forth and staggers backwards instead, suddenly looking weak. The tigers angry huffs and roars mutate into something strange... something that almost sounds human.

Then before my eyes, the tiger begins to shrink... Become skinnier and more muscular. One of the paws claws at the floor and it begins to lengthen, the fingers separating. The fur begins to thin and I'm frozen... horrified at the scene in front of me. Before I know it, the tiger has transformed into a man with darker skin and short-cropped black hair. I suck in a breath when I realize it is Jinx. Laying on the ground on his stomach and pawing at the floor weakly with his hand. "Help me..." he says. "Help... me..."

Shaking myself out of my shock, I dart back inside. Throwing open the door and hurrying over to him, I pull off my coat and drape it over him. "Jinx... What is going on?"

He lets out a shuttered breath, then sucks in a weak one. "You have to help me..." he manages to say before erupting in a coughing fit. I just stare at him, totally at a loss. Did what I think just happen actually happen? What the heck are you supposed to do for a guy who just turned into a tiger?

All I know is he needs help, and I am in no way equipped to help in any way. So I pull my cellphone out of my pocket and do the only thing I can think of to do: Call 911.

“Suspended for the rest of the week! Riley!” I yell into my phone Tuesday morning.

“Look, I’m sorry. It's not my fault Miss Jackson saw me do it. I don't even think the guys would have said anything. It was just wrong place at wrong time.”

“Riley, you should have told the principal that those boys basically beat the crap out of you yesterday!” My hands begin to shake, and I rub my cuticles raw.

“Emma I am fine. I promise. Nothing’s broken. Just a few bruises, and they’ll be gone by next week anyways. And Emma...stop shaking.”

“How do you even know that?”

“Because it’s basically being screamed through the phone right now. You may be shy, but you get really feisty when people piss you off. Don't do anything you’ll regret.”

“No promises.”

“Besides I got all this free time to work on our set list, homework, and I can visit Ryker more.” My stomach clenches at the sound of his name. I had gotten over my crush on Ryker a few months ago, but he was still my friend.

“These past few days have been insane. Everyone seems to be going off the wire.How is he?” I ask.

“His Dad called me last night. He’s unresponsive, and they dont think he’ll wake up anytime soon.” Her voice shakes.

“He’ll be okay.” I reassure.

“Yeah. I hope so. Hey Emmy I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later okay?”

“Okay. Bye.” Before I can even get out the end of my goodbye she quickly hangs up on her end. I look up in time to see Rick Johnson walking down the hallway. A.k.a the leader of the douche-bags who beat up one of my best friends. My hands start to shake again. I rush towards him, but a large figure stands in my way.

Michael.

“Get out of my way.” I snap.

“Wow. That’s the thanks I get from trying to stop your ass from getting kicked. I appreciate it.”

“Look why do you even care?” I ask. “You’re just my brothers friend. That’s it. Now get out of my way.”

“I think this is the most you have ever said to me. Aren’t you usually the quiet mouse?” My eyes go slightly wide.

Mice…

I shake my head out of the trance, and return my attention back to Michael.

Okay. That was weird.

“Besides.” He continues. “You won't make any difference. He’ll still be a jerk not matter what you say or do. Trust me.” I shake my head. I know he is right, but I definitely won't admit it. I rush off down the hallway away from Michael. Away from Rick. “You’re welcome!” I hear Michael yell after me, but I ignore him.

I find myself walking so quickly towards the music room that it feels like I’m flying by people. I walk straight into a blonde girl with frizzy curls. Sierra Murphy. Cheerleader. Crap. I manage knock all the books from her arms.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going.” I scramble to pick up her books for her.

“Yeah that's obvious. How about next time you open your eyes a little wider weirdo.” She rips her books from my arms, and struts off down the hallway.

I can't believe she seriously didn't remember me from last year. Thank god.

“That was rough.” I turn to see Daniel walking up to me. “Welcome back by the way. I'm really glad you're okay.” I slightly smile.

“Thanks. Its uh..Its good to be back. Also thanks for the notes. They really helped me.”

“No problem.” He coughs. “I’d do it for anybody.”

“Oh.” I say.

“Well I mean I would do it for all of my good friends. Not that you’re one of my good friends. Okay that’s not what I meant, but I mean we are study partners. But that's not all we are! And-” I look down.

“Uh yeah thanks Daniel I get it. I gotta go.” I turn away from him, and I start heading to my next class when I think I actually hear him facepalm. I stop and turn back. A red mark on his forehead proves me right, but he tries to play it off.

“Hey Daniel?” I ask.

“Yeah?” He asks hopeful.

“This may seem like a weird question, but I'm pretty sure you’re the only one I would trust to answer this.”

“What is it?”

“Have humans ever been reported growing feathers from their bodies?”

“I mean maybe by accident, but it's never been due to actual growth. Most of the time cases have only showed up as one to two feathers. And it's been confirmed that it was due to bacteria's from the area. Most commonly South America. Why?”

“No reason. I just saw a music video, and it made me think about it. Thanks…”

“Yeah no problem.”

“I’ll see you later I guess?”

“Definitely.”

“Alright bye.” I slight wave, and I continue my way down the hall.

“Bye.” He says. I continue until I reach the girls bathroom. The minute I lock myself in one of the stalls I quickly pull up my sleeve.

More feathers. Crap.

What the heck is going on with me?

Neon was running. But this time, he rocketed down the hallway, panic burning at his heels. His eyes were wide, his head shaking in disbelief.

Bursting into English class, he walked promptly over and slammed his palms onto Emma’s desk, making the classroom tremble.

Emma jumped back a bit, frightened. “N-neon-”

“Is it true?” Neon asked. He didn’t look up, and his hair hid his eyes. His fingers clawed at the metal desk. “Did she…?”

Emma’s voice softened, recognizing his tone. “Neon…”

Neon’s teeth clenched. His hands balled into fists. “Answer me, you weak minion,” he spat, leaning forward. “Has Riley West been suspended for violence?” His gaze shot up, burning blue eyes piercing the girl in front of him. “Has she?”

Cold fear was all he got in reply. Neon realized that he was gripping Emma’s shoulders, and quickly released her. He opened his mouth momentarily, searching for something reassuring to say; his teeth eventually ground together as he fell silent. His eyes dropped to the carpeted floor once again.

“Yes.” The single word echoed inside the classroom, which seemed to be holding its breath for the spectacle taking place before it.

Neon’s head dipped, slowly and slightly. “I see.”

The bell rang, and Mr. Poe got up to shut the door. Walking to the board, he held up Romeo and Juliet again, waving it around. “Now, I hope everyone read the section like they were supposed to,” he said. “We’ll be starting today on page...page…” He trailed off, staring at Neon, still clawing at Emma’s desk. As did the rest of the class.

The thin man coughed into his fist. “Neon, perhaps you’d like to read a bit today? I think the part of Mercutio would suit you…” He trailed off again as Neon rose from the metal desk, swaying slightly.

The boy shook his head stiffly. “No, I’ve done it quite enough. I think I’ll let someone else-” He shuddered suddenly, fingers clawing wildly at his sides. His muscles strained; his eyes bulged. “I’ll let-” Another spasm, this time distorting his stance into something twisted and inhuman. “I think…” A wicked smile alighted on his face, and the beginnings of a chuckle made his chest tremble.

Gradually, the light died from his eyes, and his demented posture realigned itself, arms hanging uselessly at his sides. “I’m fine,” he said simply.

Keeping his head down, he lumbered to the back of the class, ignoring the stares. He sat down heavily, and the sounds of Mr. Poe pausing before asking for volunteers faded into static noise.

Neon’s mind was ablaze, a black stormcloud brewing above his head. And it began to take shape, forming into one, terrifying word, one that would wreak vengeance upon the peons who’d attacked his rival.

Potato.

------------------------

Neon pulled the scarf a little lower around his neck as he walked towards the lunch table. Taking a small bite of the potato in his hand, he strolled over to where Rick Johnson and his troupe of assorted cronies were jostling each other over their food.

He stood there, chewing softly as the faceless brutes in front of him laughed wildly at the two-word phrases that they kept shouting as if a third repetition would make it funny.

One of the boys leaned back, talking with his mouth full. “Can we help you?” he asked, staring up at Neon.

Neon’s shoulders bounced with a small chuckle. “Help me? Goodness, no. I have standards for my minions, after all.”

A lazy smile appeared on the boy’s lips. “What? You think you’re a big shot or something?”

Neon took another bite of the potato. “No, I simply said you were incompetent. Pay attention,” he said, nonchalantly gazing over the table.

The rest of the crew stopped shoving each other and stared at him. “This guy don’t know what he’s saying!” one shouted obnoxiously.

“Ooh! That’s some real cheese right there!” The assembled cronies laughed loudly, and they were only being partially ironic.

“Enough,” Neon’s tired eyes swept over them. He’d stayed up late last night inventing. “Rick Johnson, I’d like to say something.”

The brawny boy at the head of the table grinned, cocking his head. “Say what you want! This is America, dude!” The rest of the table shouted their own self-lauding agreements.

The corners of Neon’s mouth twisted upwards. “Ah, that’s excellent. For a second, I thought you might take offense.” He drew a tense breath into his lungs, and spoke his mind.

Within seconds, the bullies were on their feet.

“Dude! What the hell!”

“Who do you think you are, judging us like that?”

“That’s some real cheese right there!”

Neon leaned forward, grinning at their anger. “Do I have your attention now, worms?”

“You’ve got more than that, kid,” Rick Johnson growled as he stood up. “You’ve got a fight.”

“Is that your answer for everything? Well, no matter.” Neon shook his head and shrugged helplessly. He gazed confidently at his now-irate foe, keeping an upbeat tone. “So, after school, then?”

Rick smiled crookedly. “Why not right here?” He gestured to the tables around them, where the students sat, eating. “I don’t need too much space to kick your-”

“Language!” Neon warned. Tapping his forehead guiltily, he continued, “Apologies. Also, fine by me. Though I never took you for a masochist, I must say.”

“Shut up.” Rick walked around Neon, until the two boys were facing each other, three meters apart. The lunch crowd slowly looked up to see what commotion these odd two were creating.

The bully cracked his knuckles and grinned. “You’ve got a big mouth for someone so puny.”

“Your originality is scathing.” Neon sighed, placing a hand on his hip. “You know what? Even with your strength, you’re still quite worthless.”

Seeing that the other boy had no retort, he continued. “What a sickly soul you must have, to beat up on Riley in your little packs. I’d like to make it known to you,” he spoke coldly, looking Rick dead in the eye, “that nobody is allowed to defeat her, except me.”

Rick snarled and raised his fists, cracking his knuckles and giving himself arthritis.

“And now, I’m going to show you just how worthless your strength is.” Neon extended his arm, opening his hand. “You see this? I’m going to defeat you with this potato.” The brown, freckled lump lay in his palm, a few bites already taken out of it.

Rick laughed. “You’re lying.”

Neon smiled. “No. I never lie.”

“It’s a potato,” Rick insisted. “You’re a lunatic.”

“No, a lunatic would have shot you and teabagged your corpse.” Neon grinned fakely. “I’m a bit more sophisticated; total humiliation works for me. Anything to show you how worthless you are to my story.”

“I’ll crush you!” Rick roared, charging towards him. Neon’s eyes flashed as the boy neared. He raised the potato to his teeth, but this time, he pulled at the vegetable instead of biting.

With a wet sucking sound, the top half of the potato came away into Neon’s teeth. Beneath it was a metal casing, the same metal that comprised the rest of the vegetable. Neon hadn’t been lying; Rick had just assumed that the device was only a potato.

Raising his hand, Neon smashed the iron potato against the ground. A cloud of thick smoke shot up, blinding Rick as he charged.

Neon ducked into the smoke, lashing out savagely with his fists. His punches slammed into Rick’s stomach, causing the boy to stumble back. Leaping upwards, Neon uppercutted him, and he crashed onto his back on the cafeteria floor.

Polishing off the rest of his smoke bomb’s edible portion, Neon walked over. A quick, light stomp to the stomach crushed the breath from Rick’s lungs.

“You bastard!” Already, the other boys were leaping to their feet. Friendship was a foolish force, indeed.

Terence Matthews took the helm, dashing forward. “Get him!”

“Wait!” Neon’s voice surprised the bullies, and they stopped dead in their tracks. Slowly, comically, he held up a red lunchbox from behind his back. “Do you know what this is?”

Fear flashed across Terence’s face. “W-what? What is that?”

Neon smirked, clanging his knuckles on the front. “It’s metal.”

The scarf-clad conqueror dashed forward, swinging the lunchbox in a wide arc. Terence’s eyes rolled back in his head as it bashed against the side of his skull. Eyes wide with glee, Neon whipped the metal box around again to strike the other bullies as they advanced.

Within seconds, the force had been dismantled. Most were picking themselves up and running, but a scant few remained, staring Neon down. He admired their resolve, if not their logic.

Neon spread his arms wide, grinning. “Come on! Five against one, correct? These are the same odds you gave to my opponent!” He tossed and caught the lunchbox in his hands menacingly. “So shut up and let me defeat her!”

A large weight slammed into the small of his back, driving him to the floor. Rick Johnson roared as he tackled Neon from behind. Neon braced himself as the heavier boy piled on top of him.

A fist slammed into his cheekbone, and another connected with his jaw. “You can hurt me,” Rick roared, “but I won’t let you hurt my friends!” His furious salvo pummeled Neon’s body beneath him, striking painfully into his bones.

The boy fancied himself a hero. Neon grinned softly as the fists smashed downwards. Looking back, he was the villain, wasn’t he? The dirty trickster who’d attacked the noble hero and his friends.

“Well, that’s fine.” The words slipped from Neon’s lips, resonating into the air. “I don’t mind what I’m labeled. I know what I am.”

Rick stopped punching and sat back, confusion flitting across his face. “What-”

“I’m the king of the world!” Neon cried, sucker-punching Rick across the mouth. He sprang to his feet as the other boy collapsed backwards onto the floor.

Neon leaped onto his chest, watching Rick shake his head groggily. “Who cares about right or wrong? There is only victory,” he seethed, “and I’ve beaten you.” He grinned as the other boy squirmed beneath him.

Then a thought struck Neon: Why not punch him again?

A brutal left, a savage right, a wicked slap, all of it came raining down on Rick Johnson’s defenseless body The pained grunts of the victim only widened Neon’s smile, his strikes gradually becoming more frenzied and unstable.

Eventually, Rick fell slack, head knocking against the floor. Neon pressed two fingers to his neck, feeling a steady pulse. “Passed out? ...Cheater.”

Getting up off of the bully, Neon turned to address the entire lunchroom, splaying his arms wide. “Victory is mine!” he cried, clenching his fist with triumphant vigor. Placing his hands on his hips, he chortled comically, trembling with odd laughter.

His mirth slowly died down as he looked at his audience again. Most were frozen in their seats, some were inching towards the exits, while others just cowered beneath their tables. A single, cold emotion ran through each and every one of them.

Fear.

Neon smiled nervously, casting a worried glance around the room. “Um…” Attempting to lighten the mood, he stretched his cheeks and pulled a face.

Sierra Murphy screamed, raising her manicured fingernails to her cheeks. The lunchroom fell to chaos as students scrambled out of their seats, dashing down the hallway and leaving their food warm at their tables. Were these...the spoils of war?

The last stragglers fled the scene, whimpering pathetically, and Neon was left standing in an empty theater. An odd sensation came over him, and he touched a hand to his chest. It wasn’t so much a new emotion as a new lack of emotion. He felt nothing from his victory, nor his prize.

He felt hollow.

Then the muscled arms of the security guard seized him from behind, dragging his limp body away.

----------------------------

Neon hunched in the hard wooden chair, not looking up. Dean Jacoby loomed over him, her fingers rapping agitatedly on her desk.

“Well, well, well, Mr. Kingsley,” the dean said, wrapping her hands around a cream folder. “I’d never guessed that you’d be so prone to violence.”

Neon said nothing, staring at the floor.

Jacoby sighed, leaning forward. “Anything you’d like to say for yourself?”

A slight turn of Neon’s head was the only answer.

The woman’s lips came together in a hard line. Prising the folder open, she leafed through the pages of the report. “Under normal circumstances, we’d suspend you for the rest of the semester. Fighting and bringing a weapon to school? I thought a kid like you would see this coming.”

Silence.

Dean Jacoby pulled out another paper, examining it. “However, you’d had multiple past infractions, including insubordination, violations of safety procedure, and several claims of world domination…” She scratched the side of her head. “Anyway, we cannot allow such abhorrent behavior from our students. Neon Kingsley,” she condemned, “we have no choice but to expel you from Silver Creek High.”

The words echoed in Neon’s ears as he shuffled his hands and nodded understandingly.

“Now, state law dictates that you can return after two years.” Jacoby glanced down at him. “You probably didn’t need that education, anyway.”

The education, no. The people…

“I believe that will be all, Mr. Kingsley.” Dean Jacoby raptly straightened the papers, placing them back into the folder. “Should I arrange for your family to come pick you up?”

“Family?” Neon scoffed, rising from his chair. He walked to the door, gently pulling it open. Glaring over his shoulder, he stared coldly at the dean. “What family?”

With that, he whisked out of the building like the wind, shutting the door behind him.

Neon shoved his hands into his pockets as the biting chill of January frosted his blood. Tapping his shoes on the pavement, he began to walk, not really caring where he was going.

Images of the panic-stricken students running from him flashed through his mind. He gritted his teeth, burying his expression in his scarf. That wasn’t a victory, his mind throbbed. That was an utter loss. They didn’t love me. I didn’t conquer them. His foot lashed out savagely, kicking a discarded soda can down the road.

I’m not human, he thought. They didn’t see a man. They saw a monster. I’m not human. But that was a good thing, wasn’t it? He was a genius who would conquer the world...conquer the people…make them fear him.

Neon wished, for the first time in his life, that he were somebody else.

I lay in bed shivering as I thought over the events of the past two weeks. After the field trip, weird things had been happening. People had fallen sick and even those who hadn't yet seemed like they were hiding something. I had been dreading it, but had finally fallen ill like the others.

As far as I knew, of Mr.Neil's class, only Gwen, Neon and Cole still hadn't had any symptoms. And to make it worse, my head had transformed into that of an eagle. After re-checking my encyclopedias, it was the head of a martial eagle.

Now, I loved Martial Eagles, who were the all rounders in terms of strength in the Eagle world, being able to fly high and for quite some time while still being able to rend flesh and crush bone with their powerful talons.

But when my head turns into an Eagle's head, two possibilities come to mind;1)I'm going crazy 2)It's actually happening and Eagle DNA is in my body. 1) is by far the more plausible, though it is an unpleasant thought. However, I had shown no other signs of mental illness, which would be unusual in such a case. Thus I was left with the latter theory. It was seeming more and more plausible as I thought about it.

Everyone falling sick, the strange dream (or was it?) that I had had in the MIC... When Emma had asked about feathers, I had nearly flipped out and told her everything. But then she had said that it was a music video which had sparked the thought, and so I restrained myself. But thinking back, she had acted rather oddly. She had asked the question nervously and replied hurriedly before running off, signs that she wasn't telling me the whole truth.

Poor Emma I thought as I remembered what had happened recently, pushing the deeper, weirder thoughts to the back of my head for the moment. I had been jealous of Ryker in the past due to Emma's crush on him, but I had still felt sorry for him when I had heard of what happened to him.

Emma was good friends with him, so i knew she'd be sorrowful. Not to mention Riley, one of her closest friends had gotten suspended for a week. Yes, things hadn't gone Emma's way recently. Then there was the business with Neon. I had watched him take down those bullies, and was shocked by the persona he had displayed.

He had, for a few minutes, been no longer the amusing trickster and joker that made class withstandable, but something different. Something vicious. He had been expelled for it, having beaten up several of that gang, and put two in hospital. I had never expected Neon to act like that. But then, my head had transformed once, so who was I to talk. The thoughts tired me out. I had caught fever the day before, the day Neon had been expelled, and had missed school today. It was the middle of the afternoon, but fever had drained my energy, so I pushed all my complicated thoughts to one side for the moment and fell asleep.

When I woke up, I knew that something was wrong. Through the window, I could see that the sun was low on the horizon, so it was the evening. But that wasn't the weird part. Once again, I could see everything in excellent detail. I started to rise, fearing that my head had changed again, but discovered to my horror that I couldn't get up.

I tried to lift my arms but they were larger than I remembered and wider. And my legs seemed much shorter. Have I shrunk? I thought as I attempted to get out of my clothes. My feet scrabbled at my shirt, and to my surprise, tore through it! Then I saw that I no longer had feet, but large eagle's talons! I tried to give a shout of surprise, but instead I squawked loudly. Then I knew that my head had also transformed.

I need to get help. I decided as I tried to think of a plan. The only way to get help would be to get out of my room and find my parents. But they'll just think you're a freak. With an eagle's head and talons. How will they know who you are? said my brain, but I pushed thought down for the moment.

I needed to get free, so using my powerful talons, I tore the shirt to shreds and got free. Then I looked down at myself and my heart sunk as my suspicions were confirmed. It was not only restricted to my feet and head, but my entire body had changed! I had completely transformed into a Martial Eagle! I thought it over frightenedly. This isn't a dream...this is real. and I knew it with certainty.

I quickly tried to think of something positive about the situation, like my parents had told me to try during depression periods. Well, Martial Eagles aren't too bad. At least it's not a House fly or something weak like that. Not to mention that seeing as I now have talons that can crush bone and tear flesh, Terence won't have the guts to come after me. I felt amused at that thought, but it was quickly replaced by confusion, fear and anger.

I knew the MIC had caused this. And the dream I had had was probably true. As I was thinking it over, I started to feel hungry. And within a few moments that thought superceded all others.

I need food. I have to hunt. I NEED FOOD NOW. Some instinct within me took hold of my brain, and I hopped onto the window sill before spreading my wings and taking off.

I was an eagle! King of the skies! I flew well, expertly steering through
the skies with a wingspan of over seven feet, and riding the thermals with ease. Daniel Torson no longer existed. There was only me, the martial eagle. And I was hungry. I flew down near a tree to catch a squirrel, but it scampered away before I could catch it.

A human girl with a strangely familiar face looked on in amazement. Charlotte. said a voice from inside me, but I payed it no heed. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that I, the Eagle was still hungry. And I needed to find more prey. I glided high once more and this time flew away from the city, towards the woods nearby.

As the woods approached rapidly, I noticed a shape flying near its outermost edge. As I drew nearer, my keen eyesight detected that it was a barn owl. Prey. said my Eagle mind and I flew closer, but making sure that I remained silent so as to not alert it of my approach. When I was right above it, I swooped down, my large curved talons outstretched to catch my prey. But the bird reacted just in time dipping down just as I reached it, so my talons could not fully catch it.

But they had made contact, as was proven by the deep bloody gashes that appeared on it's back. As I saw the blood that I had spilled, my human side took over once again, and I became Daniel Torson once more.What...what have I done? I looked out at the owl, who was thankfully still able to fly, but did so shakingly and with visible pain as it flew into the trees.

But just before it did, I heard a voice in my head say ow, oh no... in Emma's voice! I felt confused at that, but pushed that thought away in the face of what I had done. I had tuned into a martial eagle and hurt a poor innocent bird who hadn't done anything wrong. I hated myself.

How am I doing this? I don't even know how to fly! As I thought that, I started to panic, and drop, but my eagle's instincts kicked in and helped me to stay aloft. I decided to just return home. My eagle mind remembered the way back and so I let it have restricted control and flew home. Upon getting into my room, I hopped onto the floor.

I can't take this... I thought and closed my eyes and tried to will everything back to normal. As I did, I felt my body warp and change, my legs elongated, my face shortened, and body expanded. When I opened my eye, I was happily a human again! But my joy was tempered by the fact that I was stark naked!

I quickly put on some clothes and, as soon as I had, my mother called up from the stairs, "Daniel! Come down for dinner!" The thought of dinner made me salivate. I felt so hungry...but I knew what I had to do first. I quickly hid the ruins of my shirt and wiped up some blood that my talons had left on the floor before flushing the napkin I had used to do so down the toilet.

Then I went down for dinner, and to my family's amazement, ate a whole roast chicken! My sister complained that I was eating like a pig, but my mother said that I was probably going through a growth spurt so I could eat as much as I wanted. I also startled my family by refusing to eat any carrot, which was my favourite vegetable.
I didn't know why I didn't want to eat it, but the mere thought of it felt wrong.

But meat...meat felt like the right food for me, like it was the food I needed to have, and should always have. I was scared, as I felt like a part of the eagle was still in me, even after I had turned back to human. I also recalled the power I had felt as an eagle, like I had complete control of everything in my life, and was a king, and I found myself longing for it. And that scared me, because I knew that I had never felt power hungry before.

But as I lay in bed after dinner, fatigue took hold of me, and the fear and confusion and every thought settled down as I succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep.

Two gold eyes shine from behind jagged blades of grass, floating orbs in the dusky purple light. A deer grazes peacefully in the clearing, ears twisting every so often to scout out danger.

The owner of the gold eyes, a large Siberian tiger, flicks its striped tail, standing downwind so that the deer can't smell it. Its stomach growls; it's been days since the tiger last fed. The muscles in its haunches tense, preparing to leap on its meal.

But its tail lashes too much, and the grass swishes softly at the movement.

The deer's ears prick up, and it raises its head in alarm, nose twitching. Wide set eyes scan the grass around it. The tiger crouches lower, flattening its ears against its skull, and the deer looks in the opposite direction, misguided by the wind.

The tiger seizes the opportunity, and throws itself from its hiding place, springing upwards on powerful legs, claws extended. The deer stumbles to the side in panicked surprise, and the tiger lands short. It churns its legs to gain its footing, but to its surprise, it goes nowhere. The deer bounds away lightly, and the tiger thrashes on the ground in confusion.

The beast begins to sink into the ground, its lips pulled back in terror. It's as if the earth has transformed into thick liquid, sucking at the tigers paws, holding it fast. Soon the animal's chest is covered, and it struggled to keep its head up. Black mud crawls over its fur and between its paw pads, and as the tiger fights, the more it is trapped.

The mud reaches the tigers nose now, and the tiger lurches in the ground, thrashing its limbs, fighting for another breath. The mud leaks into the tigers ears as the darkness becomes complete. The tiger fights, the air leaving its lungs. Suffocating.

Dying.

"Help," the tiger gasps, eyes flying open. Gray-blue ones, not gold.

"Help me."



Sirens wailed in Jinx's ears, cutting through the fog in his brain. His brow crumpled in confusion as he tried to open his eyes, and cringed at the harsh light coming from above him. His back pressed against a cold, hard surface, and he could feel stiff straps crisscrossing over his chest.

His head killed.

"Oh! He's awake," a deep voice exclaimed in surprise.

Who was that? Jinx tried to open his eyes once more, and winced at the light again. A low moan rumbled in his throat as his temples throbbed in pain.

"Turn off the light, Marcus. It's hurting him," another voice came, soft and feminine.

There was a gentle click, and the brightness faded. Jinx finally opened his eyes and wearily looked at the two people hovering over him. A man and a woman, both young and wearing bright green vests with silver stripes. The woman had her blonde hair pinned back and was wearing no makeup. The man was tall with curly red hair. Jinx's eyes latched onto the badges on their chests. It looked very familiar, but it was hard to think with the siren wailing in his ears.

"We're your paramedics, Mr. Gray," the woman said loud enough to be heard over the din. "I'm Stacy, and this is Marcus. We're taking you to the hospital."

Jinx stared at them. Paramedics? Hospital?

"Wh-What happened?" he stuttered, his voice cracked and dry.

"Your friend found you hallucinating and feverish when you were home alone. You talked to her. Do you remember?" Marcus asked, concern shining in his green eyes.

Jinx's eyes slipped closed as he tried to remember, but all that came back was his dream. It had felt so real, like he had actually been the tiger stalking its prey. But then at the end, when he had been sucked into the ground... could that have been part of his hallucinations? His illness working its way into reality?

"I...I don't know," he said finally, like a sigh. Exhaustion settled on his chest like a wet blanket.

"We're almost to the hospital," Stacy said comfortingly. "We'll figure out what happened there."

"It's a good sign that you're already awake and functional," Marcus added.

Despite their encouraging words, the ambulance siren continued to scream through their words, making the situation seem dire, like his very life was in danger. Jinx didn't reply, his head aching too much to open his eyes again. He wasn't over this yet.



"Jinx. My god. Are you okay?"

Dad swept into the hospital room, still in his watchman clothes. Jinx shifted his head so he could see his father with his good eye. His father's question rang in the air. Of course he wasn't okay, but his father didn't give him the chance to answer.

"I tried to leave as soon as I could, but no one would answer my calls. I finally got Anthony to cover for me," Mr. Gray rambled as he strode forward, biting his lip. "They told me that you're better now, that nothing's wrong. I think that's idiotic, honestly. My son passes out, has hallucinations and a fever of 105 degrees, and then they say you're perfectly okay? Bullshit."

His father stopped at the edge of the hospital bed and wrung his hat in large hands. He stared at Jinx desperately, as if his son would disappear any moment.

"I should have stayed home," he groaned, berating himself. Jinx opened his mouth to comfort him, but then his father's eyes narrowed. "And a girl found you? Since when are you talking to girls?"

Jinx sighed loudly, cutting him off. "Hi Dad."

Mr. Gray's eyes suddenly filled with tears, and he flung his arms around Jinx's neck.

"I'm glad you're okay," he whispered, face buried in Jinx's neck. A tear stung Jinx's skin.

The teen patted his father awkwardly on the back, unsure of what to do.

"Uh, me too."

His father sat up and swiped at his face, looking embarrassed. Jinx knew that he was all that Mr. Gray had left, that it would devastate him if anything ever happened to his son.

A thought occurred to Jinx. He didn't hang out with girls. Who had found him?

"Dad? What girl?" he asked, his voice still rough, but getting better.

Mr. Gray wrinkled his brow. "Someone named... Layla, maybe? Why? Do you not remember? They said she saw you and talked to you, then called 911."

"I...no," Jinx said hesitantly. Had he really been so ill that he couldn't remember? Why had she been at their apartment? "She's from my school. I don't know her very well, though."

Dad raised an eyebrow and licked his lips. "Well, she was at our apartment. Which is trashed, by the way. The paramedics have no idea how you caused that much damage."

Jinx blinked. "What?"

Mr. Gray shrugged. "You broke quite a few things and a lot of furniture was knocked over, they said. Not anything too expensive." He hesitated, then looked at Jinx out of the corner of his eye. "You weren't... doing drugs or anything, right?"

"What? No!" Jinx protested, mind reeling. "I am so confused." How could Dad possibly think he was on drugs? He had almost died, or something! He had been delusional. That must have been what happened. He had hallucinated and destroyed the house.

Dad raised his hands with a dry smile. "I know you wouldn't. Plus," he punched Jinx lightly in the shoulder, "I'd find out soon with all the testing they're doing, anyway."

Jinx scowled. "You don't have very good bedside manner, Dad."

Mr. Gray chuckled softly. Jinx tried not to notice the tiredness in his father's eyes, the wrinkles in his cheeks.

"But I love you," Dad said, and kissed Jinx's forehead. The teen rolled his head away in embarrassment, but deep down, he felt a warmth spread through him. His dad rocked.

But what had happened to him? Why was he so sick? Even his father's reassurance couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong with Jinx and his body.

And why, why did he still feel the panic of the tiger from his dream? He could still feel the thrashing of powerful legs against unrelenting doom, the tightness in his chest as he suffocated in the dirt.

Jinx shivered, and pulled the covers closer to his chin.

I sit in the waiting room of the hospital for about an hour, and I'm not even entirely sure why. I barely know the kid, but I know what I saw and to say the least... I'm freaking out. My heel taps on the ground, keeping rhythm with the quick beating of my heart. With shaking hands, I reach for my cellphone for the fifth time to call Charlotte or Dan or maybe even Cole. But I cancel it just before I hit dial like I've done each time before. What am I supposed to say? 'Hey, Jinx turned into a tiger and tried to eat me?' They'd probably tell me it's a good thing I'm at the hospital, so I can get a CAT scan. But if anyone needs a 'cat' scan, it's Jinx.

By the time I see Jinx's dad come through the double doors, tired and wearing a security guards uniform, I've chewed my lip raw from anxiety. I hadn't even realized I'd been doing it until now. Finally, I decide I can't just sit here all night. I need to talk to Jinx.

When I see Jinx's dad pass by, I head into the E.R. and stop at the nurses desk. "I'm here to talk to Jinx Gray."

"Are you family?" the nurse asks.

"No, I'm the person who found him. I called 911."

"Oh... Well, I'm afraid you're too late. Non-family visiting hours will be over in five minutes."

"I just need a minute," I assure her.

She sighs, then types on her computer. "Alright. He's in room 213."

I give her a nod and head that way. 211... 212... 213. I turn the handle and poke my head in. Jinx is awake and sitting up against the headboard with pillows behind his back. He turns his head to look at me, surprised. "Layla?" I quickly slip in and close the door behind me, then yank the blinds above the window down over the glass. I turn around to face him, pressing my back up against the door and find myself feeling uneasy at being so close to him. He tried to attack me earlier, what if he tries again?

He just stares at me, curious and confused. "What are you doing here?"

I take in a deep breath and let out a shuttered one. "I'm gonna be straight with you. I'm kind of freaking out, here. Do you... remember anything from earlier?"

"I keep trying to... but nothing. They told me I was hallucinating."

"Yeah, because that's what I told them."

"What were you doing at my apartment--wait. That's what you told them? As in what you said was different from the truth?"

"We were assigned to be study partners," I say. "I came to your apartment to give you some notes... And they wouldn't have believed me if I'd told them the truth."

"What happened?" he asks, growing more concerned.

Man this is going to sound weird if he doesn't know what happened. "So, you don't remember anything? Nothing at all?"

He shakes his head at me. "Just a weird dream. Will you stop stalling? Whatever it is, I need to know."

I walk closer and carefully sit down in a chair at the end of his bed. "There's no way I can say this that won't sound crazy, so I'm just going to say it." I take in another deep breath. "You turned into a tiger. And back."

"A tig-- Layla, don't mess with me. That's not possible."

"Jinx, I am telling you. I went into your apartment and, as a tiger, you tried to attack me. I saw you turn from a tiger into... well... you." He watches me carefully, not saying a word. I run a shaky hand through my hair. "I don't know how, or why... But I know what I saw. You don't remember asking me for help?"

"I told you. I don't remember anything." He sighs and wipes his face with his hand. "This doesn't make any sense. It's not possible for a person to turn into a tiger. It just isn't."

"I would have said the exact same thing this morning," I say. He just stares at me. "So... you don't believe me?"

"I don't know what to believe. This is... weird."

"Really weird," I agree.

"Look, I don't know what to make of this. But can you just... keep this whole thing to yourself for now?"

The door opens and I jump. I put my hand over my thudding heart as the nurse pokes her head in. "Visiting hours are over."

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "Thanks." I head for the door, but turn back to look at him before I go.

He looks at me with worry clouding his eye. "Please," he says.

I hesitate, then give him a nod. And as I make my way back out to the parking lot, I realize I don't feel much better. Jinx doesn't remember anything, and I'm not even sure he believes me. I mean, how could he? It's not like if it was him telling me that I'd been a tiger that I would have been overcome with relief and gone, "Oh... Yep. That must be it." No, I would have been just as skeptical, if not more. And now on top of it all, I have to keep it a secret. I'm not sure who I would have told anyway, but the fact that I can't tell anyone now makes this whole thing feel even more suffocating that it did before.

~ ~ ~

"Layla, have you been practicing after school?" Coach Dossley asks me, clicking the stopwatch in her hand.

"No, why?" I ask, out of breath, stepping off the track.

"You broke your record by a whole ten seconds," she says with a hint of disbelief.

"Ten seconds? Really?"

"Yeah. Nice job. Whatever you're doing, keeping doing it." She gives me a smile, then turns to face the rest of the team. "Alright, that's it for today. Enjoy your classes, everyone."

How is that possible? I didn't sleep at all last night, I think as I head to my first class of the day. My mind had been on everything that happened yesterday, and if it wasn't that, it was from a growing pain in my ears. I'd hoped it would go away, but it only seems to get worse. Man, I better not have an ear infection. Those suck.

~ ~ ~

Mrs. Tangemen lets us out of Math ten minutes early. Stopping by my locker on my way to Second Period History, the pain in my ears intensifies to the point where I feel light headed. I stumble into the lockers. Why does it hurt on the outside, too? Then I hear a crack! and I feel something give way on the side of my head. Then the pain is gone. Instinctively, I raise a hand up to touch my ear, and my eyes widen when I feel something furry.

Franticly, I turn the nob on my lock and yank open the locker to look in the mirror on the inside of the door. Fox ears. Giant tan ones poking up through my blonde hair. I rub my finger along the edge of one of them, my mouth hanging open. What the hell is happening to me?

The bell rings, announcing the end of first period. I panic. I turn around to see a kid on the other side of the hall grabbing books out of his locker. He wears a baseball cap. Without even thinking, I go over and grab the hat off the kids head, then hurry away, hiding the ears in the hat. He yells at me in protest, but I ignore it.

I turn the corner and run right into someone. "Sorry!" she exclaims. Then her eyes widen. "What's wrong with your eyes?"

I look at my reflection in the window of the door to my left. Orange. Bright. Fox-like.

Still panicking, I shove my way past her and start shuffling through my backpack for my sunglasses. I yank them out and conceal my eyes behind their tinted lenses. I've got this under control. Everything's fine...

A wave of nausea hits me and I shove my way into the bathroom, then into the largest stall. I empty out my stomach until nothing's left. Icy sweat prickles at my forehead as I reach up to flush, but black, thick nails replacing my normal ones stops me. But I'm barley able to acknowledge it before I feel something in my body shift. A second shift forces me onto my hands and knees. I sink lower and lower to the ground, though my elbows aren't bending.

I look down at my hands, which are now covered in tan fur before they're hidden behind my sleeves that seem to grow longer with each passing second. What's happening?

The room starts to spin, then my vision blacks out. It comes back a few seconds later, at the same time that my concept of reality starts to slip. One second I know I'm in the girls bathroom at Silver Creek High, and the next I have no idea where I am.

Fear and panic course through my tiny body. Something restricts my body, threatening to trap me. I thrash and wiggle until I free myself of the cloth that surrounded my body. What is this place?

The door opens, and my large ears prick up at the sound. Quick! Escape! My legs dart fast through the opening of the door just before it closes. Dozens of strange, tall creatures watch me. Some jump back, some scream... Others pull out their cell phones or throw things at me. I skitter down the halls, desperately trying to find safety. How did I get here? What is this place? Who am I?

Then something in my mind shifts. This is Silver Creek High. My name is Layla. What's going on?

"There's a fox in the school!" someone yells.
There's a fox in the school? I look down at my paws as I run down the halls, the five-foot-tall lockers suddenly towering over me and my classmates looking down at me from high above. Am I a--

My brain shifts again. Weird sights. Weird sounds. Danger. Must escape. Must find cover!

~ ~ ~

My eyes open groggily. My whole body aches and I'm shivering. Where am I? I look around, and it takes me a minute to figure out my strange location. I'm under the bleachers in the gymnasium.

I look down at myself, then immediately back up. Oh, god. I'm naked. At school. I peer through an opening between steps. No one's in here. Why am I in here?

Fragments come back to me, like pieces of a dream I had a week ago. My hands fly up to feel my ears. Normal. I look down at my shaking hands. No fur, no black nails. How much actually happened? How much was just in my head? What did happen? Did I just- Ugh, this is all too weird.

I stand up and walk to the edge of the bleachers. My eyes fall on a gym bag sitting along the edge of the bleachers. I pull it back behind and unzip it. The only clothes inside is a cheerleading outfit. I wouldn't wear this if someone payed me... but under the circumstances, I don't have much choice. So I pull on the mini-skirt and the half top and hope I'm not caught dead wearing it.

The warm summer sun shone down on the practice field. Different kids doing different sports. The class of Mr. Jefferson, were playing soccer on the west side while Miss LaDora's class was playing badminton on the north side. It was a cheerful day. The white outfits the children wore seemed to show the hard work they were doing. Laying under a tree and watching the activities unfold, was Michael. Since last week, he hadn't been feeling himself nonetheless wanting to do anything (this was abnormal of him, as he was "supposed" to be the class jock). He rested his hands behind his head, staring hazily at the classes. His class and the teacher, Mr. Neil were trying to figure out the complex game of "volleyball".

"To score in volleyball, you must win by two points." Mr. Neil was holding a volleyball, hugged closely to his side. He seemed causal today, wearing the same white t-shirt as everyone else but with faded blue jeans. The whole class was around his, crossing arms and awkwardly shifting.

"There is a mandatory rotation in volleyball. Why is there a mandatory rotation in volleyball?"

"Maybe to keep the players together?" a girl with a blonde ponytail suggested. Charlotte Penn. Michael shifted in his seat under the tree, feeling a stick poking in his lower back. "If everyone was just jumbled together, Mr. Neil, injuries and problems could arise."

Mr. Neil smiled and flipped through the book some more. "All of this seems to be common sense. So, let's play! Mr. Torson, can you go get Mr. Anthony?" The boy (Daniel Torson ) nodded and ran towards the tree.

"Michael, Mr. Neil nee-"

"I'm not going to play that stupid sport," Michael interrupted. "Besides I have to practice for football. Volleyball is just a sport for weak-links, like yourself." And got up from the tree, walking towards a close off field to practice. A couple of Michael's friends were waiting there, throwing the football back and forth. After awhile, Mr. Neil's class seemed to drift off into different sports leaving the teacher alone under a tree. Most the classmates decided upon running around the track as practice then racing for four miles. The only running Michael did was for a football. He watched the rest of the class line up behind the start line, before he caught sight of Charlotte. She seemed born to run, long legs and the perfect body built for it. Behind the glasses she wore, focused eyes stared hard at the challenge. It gave "chills" to Michael.

Soon they were off and something inside Michael's chest was telling him to go after them. I don't like running.

"Charlotte's running."

That is besides the point.

"You know you like her. Go after her."

Shut up.

His conscience shrugged before lounging back on his little memories. "You're going to do it, aren't ya?" Michael groaned, standing up. They were around the second bend when Michael's legs seemed to run by themselves. As the class passed the third bend, he could be able to be behind Charlotte and race along side her. Of course, it would be straining for his legs and chest. He was on the track now, running slowly as the class caught up to him. They were all breathing fast and Michael could smell the sweat (fear possibly?) on their clothes. Something was stirring inside of him. Something bad was coming.

Two people ahead of him was Charlotte, who seemed focused on what she was doing. Michael wanted a chase, something to get his blood pumping and his heart beating fast. He tried everything in his power to move faster, weaving between the classmates and sometimes pushing others aside. Charlotte could sense his actions and tried to run a "little" faster, but Michael was faster. His head was fuzzy, like a heavy blanket over a flood lamp. His body seemed to feel heavier and heavier, his breathing turned irregular. The world was dimming too soon, as Charlotte and Michael ran indoors.

When they got indoors, he could feel the transformation happening; his hands turned into yellow padded paws, his clothes seemed to rip as his upper body seemed to grow bigger and bigger, and heavy set of yellow brown hair grew in place of his once ginger hair. Michael still felt cloudy, running and running after a.. gazelle? Where was Charlotte? Was Charlotte the gazelle? Some animal instinct kicked in as Michael let out a heavy roar.

What in god's name is happening? The gazelle and the lion ran around the gym locker room, breaking the wood benches and smashing into the metal lockers. As the transformation was complete, Michael felt lighter and more faster. His mind was replaced with a strange connection of different wires, fused together to make him roar or run. They seemed to be coming to a corner, and Michael knew it was his chance to catch the meal.

The gazelle seemed panicked, realizing the corner. It turned around and backed into the corner-- it knew it was the end and there was no way out.

Charlotte, is that you?

OHIAMGOINGTODIE! Wait... how do you know my name? How are we talking?

I don't know.

You-you aren't going to eat me?

Yes- no- I don't know. DIfferent thought processes are weird when you are a lion

Try being a gazelle!

The lion cornered the gazelle. He was sneering, staring hungrily at the helpless prey. At sudden, different voices of humans came into the locker room. Michael blinked. He stared at Charlotte, who in the gazelle form looked kinda cute. Big, brown doe eyes were staring helplessly at Michael while her thin, brown legs were quivering in fear.

As the classmates filtered into the locker room, they hadn't expected a lion and gazelle to be there. Some of the girls and boys screamed, gripping onto each other and running out of there. While some were in pure terror, staring at the lion the main beast of killing animals on sight. A sudden ping rang in Michael's mind, a cry for help or something. There were police sirens outside, wailing and screaming for trouble. He groaned, pacing back and forth in the locker isles.

We are going to get caught, and that is the last thing I want to happen.

“Oh god my head.” I say sitting up. I look around, and realize that I’m sitting in the middle of a wooded area. And...I’m naked. A gasp escapes my mouth, and even though I know no one is around I self consciously throw my arms around my bare body.

How the heck did I get here!? Ugh. This is not how I expected my Tuesday to go.

I remember falling, but I also remember flying. Something was chasing me, and I was so scared. It must have been a dream, but that doesn’t explain how I got here. There’s no way that was real. Was it?

The shaking of my body makes me uneasy, but it isn’t until the stinging starts that I notice something is wrong. I turn around to see two bloody gashes running down my back. Visions of the eagle attacking me rush through my head.

Not a dream! Definitely not a dream!

I need to get some help, but I dont even know where I am. The last thing I remember I was walking home from school, and I took a shortcut. I just need to find the path again. It takes me a good 7 minutes to find the path, and just like I suspected my bag was leaning against a tree nearby. I dig through it, but like always I only got sort of lucky. Nothing I can cover myself with but a hoody, and my house is still a few good blocks from here. Blocks full of houses...and people.

I cringe as blood soaks through the hoody. I search for my phone, but no luck. I must have dropped it somewhere near here when the...thing happened. Okay plan B. Who has the nearest house to here? I look around, and there’s only one house I recognize.

Daniel Torson’s

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Heat rushes through my cheeks. I had only been there a few times for study sessions. No. No way. I am not stooping that low...But if I dont go, more people will see me half naked. Oh please, just let me get through the rest of this horrid day. I take in a deep breath, and trek my way towards his house. I reach the edge of his backyard, which conveniently has very well placed bushes. I look around, for pebbles I can throw.

How romantic Emma. Great job…

I sigh, and throw one at his window. This is not how I imagined a moment like this would ever happen. I wonder if people in movies have it this rough. Probably not. It takes a lot longer than I expected for him to come to his window. He opens it and peers out. My face becomes warm again.

“Emma? What are you doing here?” He is extremely confused.

“Oh you know just paroozing around the neighborhood. Thought I would stop by.” I sigh, and realize I cannot play this off. “Truthfully. Something happened, and I need a pair of sweatpants.”

“Pants? Are you okay?” His eyes go wide.

“No. Yes. I’m fine. Well er- Please. Just now. I'm sorry. I just really need your help.” I slightly laugh, once again trying to play it off. And failing miserably. His face goes red.

“Um okay. One minute.” He rushes off, and returns shortly out the back door with a pair of gray sweatpants in his hand. “Look...I-I swear I won't look, but I need you to tell me where you are.” I raise my hand in the air, and wave it around for him to notice. Next thing I know the sweatpants come flying over the bush.

“Thank you so much!” I put them on as fast as humanly possible, and I timidly step around the bush. My cheeks are on fire, and I can tell by looking at him he must feel the same. Then again his blush might be his fever. “So...hey.” I say awkwardly.

“Uh…” He coughs. “Hey.”

“So...thanks...for that, and I guess I'll see you later. And if you don't mind can we never mention this ever again?” I start to rush off, but he catches me off guard.

“Emma?”

“Yes?” I turn to him.

“What happened to your back? Your sweatshirt...it's bleeding through.” Suddenly it's like a realization hits him. He knows something. “Should I get you to the hospital?”

“No. No. My mom already has enough bills on her hands. I’ll be fine. I just need to get home.” I start off again.

“Emma. Can we...can we talk later?” I look at him, and I see the urgency in his eyes. “Something's wrong...with all of us” I nod in understanding. Something is defiantly up. Everyone has been acting strange, and all around bad things keep happening. And clearly I'm not the only one who noticed.

“I know. We can talk later Dan.” I run off leaving Dan behind. Fear and confusion floods my mind.

Something’s wrong.

It was cold for wearing a leotard, I had forgotten to bring a change of clothes in my bag. Again.

My parents basically went nuclear when I got suspended. Think a bear mixed with a piranha, poke that with a sharp stick, and multiply that agitation by ten thousand.
If it weren't for my dance class, they probably wouldn't have let me leave the house. Fortunately, the studio was only a few blocks away from my house, which gave me an excuse to walk and not have to deal with my Mom shooting me looks in the rear view mirror.

It killed me that I'd disappointed her.

I didn't notice the box until I tripped over it. The cardborad wall crumpled as I stumbled into it.
As I awkwardly attempted to hop around it, my shoe caught on the edge and sent both me and the box spilling over the curb and into a gutter.
An indignant mew escaped the inside of the vessel.
I climed out of the gutter and back onto the sidewalk, dragging the box along with me.
I peered inside at the tiny animal inside. A calico kitten, culed up on a nest of crimson fabric.

The feline looked up at me, blinking its large blue eyes. I reached in the box and tickled the cat behind the ears. The kitten accepted the gesture with a little purr, rubbing its cheek against my hand.

In my bag, I heard my phone ring. I unzipped the bag and drew the device out, hitting the green "answer" button.
"Hello?"
My mom's voice rang through on the other end. "Riley, where are you? It shouldn't take you this long to walk home from the studio."

Oops.

Without thinking, I scooped the kitten up and stuffed it into my bag, quickly zipping it.

"Oh...sorry, guess I just got a little sidetracked. I'm nearly home."

"Okay. Just checking. Bye, love." The line went dead on the other end, and I hung up, going to put the phone back in my bag until I remembered the cat.

Oh, gosh. the cat. What was I supposed to do with it? Some people might be allergic to cats, but my mother was allergic to even the idea of having one.

But...I can't just leave it here. No, I'll have to do the right thing.

And by "The right thing", of course I mean smuggle it into my house.

Run, run, run, run, run!

Delicate little hooves skittering over cracked concrete floor. Cracked concrete floor. Cracked concrete floor. Wall! Soft, tawny hide bumping against a row of lockers. Brushing the cool, cool metal, disturbing the swinging, clanging locks, like wind-chimes in a savanna windstorm. Everything red, red! Bright splashes of red against the gray.

Delicate little hooves skittering to a stop. Wall, wall, wall, lion. Wall, wall, wall, lion. Clanging locks like wind-chimes disturbed by the flick of the lion’s tail. Teeth! Terrifying, flashing white teeth in yellow fluorescent light and terrifying, flashing silver claws slicing at the ground like tiny deadly daggers. Fear, fear, fear! Death!

Then: peace. A buttery smooth voice echoes in my mind. Charlotte, is that you?

I pinned my ears to the back of my skull, my legs quivering, and, somehow, I replied to the voice with thought. The voice, the lion’s voice, answered that it did indeed want to eat me and yet at the same time it didn’t (which made me feel just great). He muttered something about lion brains being different. Well, I’d think gazelle brains are just as different. Try being me!

The lion was distracted for a minute when there was a sudden, sharp sound at the other end of the room. Terrified, I squeezed myself further into the corner and propped a tiny hoof on a small ledge at the base of the wall, then another hoof, balancing like a man on stilts. The lion flicked its tail, warily looking behind him. All I could see was his thick caramel mane and the rippling muscles in his legs.

Then, all at once, ten thousand terrible sounds crashed upon my ears, and I slipped from the ledge. Frantically I scrambled to my feet and hugged the corner again, and the lion whirled around and growled at the students. I panicked as their screams and yells wrapped around and around my thundering eardrums, but I glued myself to the wall and stayed as still as I could. As the lion flicked his tail the end of it swept over my nose like a paintbrush.

In a few minutes everything had died down. I didn’t know what was happening; between the wishy-washy lion and the threat of the students I was only consumed with fear. When the lion finally turned back to me we were both startled again, this time by the ear-splitting sound of sirens not too far off. The doors to the locker room had closed, and nobody except us were inside. To me it seems as if they had all run off, locking the doors behind them and dialing 911 and animal control.

As I began to ponder our situation, I started to calm down. I started to think straight. That’s the police, with the sirens, I said to the lion. Coming for us.

He nodded his big shaggy head, then looked me squarely in the eye. My legs started to quiver again, and I ducked my head and pinned my ears back. But then his smooth voice spoke to me, and I relaxed. We have transform into humans again, he said. His dark eyes swept up towards the ceiling, and I followed his gaze. We’ll escape - through the windows.

As if on queue we both started to change. It all happened very quickly - my big ears, tail, and fur melted away, my muscles tingled, my eyesight sharpened, my smelling and hearing dwindled, and my face flattened into its usual form. I moaned and thrashed and twitched on the cold concrete floor, but as soon as it started the transformation was over. With a huge sigh of relief, I knew I was human again.

Sitting up, I realized in a panic that I didn’t have any clothes on. My PE clothes must have been long gone when I first transformed into the thin form of the gazelle. But of course! I was in a locker room! Some rows down, my locker was waiting, with all my clothes and even a pair of extra shoes inside.

I waited silently in the corner, hugging my knees to my chest. The lion was gone. I think he had crawled to a different row of lockers when he started to change; I don’t really remember. I thought of calling out to him, but then I remembered that I didn’t know who he was. My brain whirred obligingly, happy to be in its human form again. Then with a jolt I realized who it was - Michael.

Just at that moment, I heard his voice echoing from across the room, “Charlotte? Are you okay?”

“Michael!” I squeaked, then cleared my voice. “Yes. I’m okay.”

“Good, good. Um, I found my locker and clothes and stuff. I’ll get your things too. Where’s your locker?”

I told him the number and he crossed to girl’s end of the locker room building, and when he’d announced that he’d reached it I recited the combination to him. After a moment he grabbed my things and entered the row of lockers next to where I was to toss them over. My hands shaking, I gratefully put them on.

“Okay,” I said. “I’m ready.”

Mike wandered to my row of lockers to meet me, his hands in his pockets and his brow creased with worry. He cast his greenish blue eyes up towards the windows again. “We should try to escape now. Coming out of the doors would be... suspicious, to say the least.”

I nodded and looked up towards the narrow windows too. They were way up there. How were we going to make it? I shivered with fear and looked back at Michael - strong, courageous Michael - and before I could stop myself I rushed to him and buried my head in his chest. “I’m so scared,” I whispered.

He seemed surprised, but after a moment his arms encircled me and he murmured back, “I am too, Charlotte. I don’t know what’s happening.”

He was the lion. The king, the fortress, the strength. “Why are you scared?” I asked him. “You’re the lion.” Immediately I chided myself for sounding so childish.

I felt him shrug. “You’re not the only one who’s scared of things, you know. I’ll play the lion’s part for you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be trembling like a little gazelle on the inside.”

I looked up at him and he was smiling. I opened my mouth to say something, perhaps a thank you of sorts, but we were cut off by the sound of someone unlocking the door at the other end of the room.

My heart somersaulted tremendously again, and for a fraction of a second I wondered whether Michael’s lion heart had jumped, too.

“To the window!” he cried, and with surprising strength he lifted me and thrust me onto the top of one of the rows of lockers. I turned back to help him but he was already climbing up with ease and ushering me forward impatiently. I turned to the window and frantically fingered the latch, finally thrusting it open and letting a blast of fresh early afternoon air hit my face. I stuck my feet through the opening and grabbed Mike’s hand as I lowered myself down and jumped into a narrow alley between the locker rooms and the gym. He was at my side a second later.

Michael sighed. “Let’s get out of here, shall we?”

We slipped through the alley, away from the curious crowd and squads of policemen and animal control officers at the other end of the locker rooms. Michael squeezed my hand reassuringly. As terrified as I was, I couldn’t help but smile.

~ * ~

I woke up early the next morning, having been exhausted the night before and retiring to bed right after dinner, to the chorus of my worried parent’s voices. My mind was still frazzled. I wasn’t really in the mood for pondering anything, because whenever I thought about what had happened my legs would tremble and I would collapse in desperate fear.

What’s happened to me? What’s happened to Michael? I was sitting up in bed at 5:45 in the morning, rocking myself to and fro and cradling my aching head. It was all like some terrible nightmare. Soon I was so consumed with anxiety that I felt like I was going to be sick, so I stumbled to the bathroom and flipped on the switch. I leaned over the sink, waiting, but thankfully my stomach settled.

After washing my face I wandered into the backyard and sucked in the crisp morning air. Before long my eyes were alerted to the skies, and I heard the sharp cry of what sounded to me like an eagle. I didn’t have my glasses on but I could still make out the distinct shape of a very, very large bird, soaring low. My mouth gaped open. What’s an eagle doing here? Before long, it was gone from sight.

I unwillingly allowed my brain to wonder about the eagle, the lion, and the gazelle. The locker room. The sicknesses. The absences. The field trip.

Standing there on the porch in my bare feet, I shivered.