I feel a hand brushing my hair out of my face. "Kyla." Zoe's voice is filled with pity, just like almost every other person who's ever learned about my parents. They either pity me, or try to escape. No one wants to be saddled with burden of a person whose own parents didn't want to stick around.

"What do you want?" My voice is muffled by my arms, and by the tears threatening to fall.

"I want to make sure you're okay. A lot of stuff happened tonight, and you seem overwhelmed by it all." Her voice doesn't sound like she's pitying me anymore. It sounds...understanding.

I fall for the trap; hook, line and sinker. "I'm just so sick of it Zo," I choke out. "I'm sick and tired of people abandoning me, using me for what they want and then tossing me away like a dirty tissue." She rubs my back soothingly, giving me strength to move forward, to keep talking. "All my life people have abandoned me. My parents, my friends. For once I just want someone to stay, to want to stay. Not because I have something to offer them, but because they want to get to know me, to be around me." I start crying again. "I'm just so lonely, all the time."

Zoe's crying too now. "Kyla! Don't think like that. Will is your friend, I'm your friend. Even Sean is your friend." She wipes a tear from her eye. "Don't think about all the people who didn't stay, who didn't care. Think about the ones who did."

I let all the tears rush out in one giant flood of emotion, hoping to finally let them wash away the pain I've been holding for my entire life.

"I can't," I sob. "Don't you think I've tried? Soon enough you guys will all leave me too, just like everyone else who thought they cared about me."

Zoe grabs me by the shoulders and looks into my eyes. I expect her to have something profound and philosophical about how friendship will always last. I should have known that Zoe isn't predictable. "Kyla, you need to knock some sense into that blond head of yours." She shakes her head, flipping her white-blond hair from side to side. "If you think that Will will abandon you, or Sean, then you have another think coming. Those two are the sweetest little boys you will ever meet, and they adore you."

She raises an eyebrow at herself as if realising. "In a completely non-romantic way, because, I don't know if you've got it yet, but those two are gay. Still. They wouldn't be going anywhere even if you paid them." Now she raises her eyebrow at me.

"And if you think that I, your amazing best friend would abandon you, then why are we best friends?" Her attitude-filled question causes my sob to turn into some mangled form of choked laughter. "So! You will get out of your slump, because you would have told us about your parents eventually." She raises a finger in the air, triumphantly.

"What did I do to deserve you Zo?" I wipe the tears from my puffy, red eyes.

She places a finger to her lips and pretends to think for a moment. "I honestly don't know."

***

The alarm isn't any better the next day. I am slightly more prepared for it though, so it makes it easier to get ready, even if it's still the butt crack of dawn. I make my way to the dining hall with time to spare.

Zoe looks up at me in surprise as I sit next to her with my plate of food. "Oh? Sleepyhead Cinderella got up early today."

My cheeks flame at the mention of last night. I should have know that Zoe wouldn't let it go completely under the radar.

At the sight of the strawberry that is now my face, Zoe relents. "I'm just kidding Kyla. Relax."

My strawberry cheeks fade to pink, and then back to my normal peach. I eat my waffles silently, ignoring the questioning stares of people from around the room. Did I really make that much of a stir at the dance club?

***

Inside of my first class, Magical History, I groan. A regular boring classroom, one that could have transported to my old highschool without looking strange at all. Same stupid desks with chairs attached so that you can't get more comfortable, same pretentiously big teachers desk, with a nameplate that no one can read. According to Zoe, it has a horrible teacher too. Mr. Olivo. He's supposed to be around 100, and he's been teaching here for seventy years. Just like at a Nonie high school.

The only real difference is that the whiteboard has been replaced with a high tech looking touch screen. It's glass surface reflects the classroom back at me and I shrink away from myself. I've never really liked how I look in mirrors.

Instead I look at my classmates. Nobody I recognize except Zo, but a lot of them recognize me, judging from the accusing stares. I grimace. They must have heard about the club. News travels fast in a supernatural school.

And why shouldn't it? I bet some of them have the ability to read minds, now that I know that not all of the kids are Alters. Why should their conversations stop when the teacher walks in to quiet the buzz of voices.

Speak of the devil. A man walks in the room, his profile weirdly familiar for a hundred year old guy. I haven't seen anybody that old that I can remember. Zoe definitely recognizes him from the panicked look on her face. Wonder why Zoe is worried about her teacher.

I still can't place who it is yet. His back is to me as he turns on the screen, a screensaver of the Metis logo replacing the blackness.

As he faces the front, I realize why Zoe's face is so panicked, and I'm hoping that my face doesn't look like hers.

My teacher, of all the Alters in the world, is none other than the infamous Damien Blackwood. Can I not get a break?