The club isn't anything like what I was expecting. Instead of looking like a souped up school gym, it looks exactly like the clubs you see in movies. Everywhere I look, disco lights are flashing, almost disorienting enough to warrant a stroke warning. The dance floor is illuminated, pink and blue, turning the clubgoers into silhouettes as they enjoy themselves. A large crowd is dancing to the DJ's beat, bodies moving in sync to the bass rocking the whole room. I do one last once over of the room and gasp. There's even a bar in the corner! My enthusiasm dims slightly when I notice the large sign proclaiming No Alcohol, even though I wouldn't have had any. It just makes the club a little less cool, but this club has enough coolness to spare.

I look at Zoe, my eyes wide. "This is the club?" She grins and pulls me onto the dance floor.

"Of course! Did you think we would take you somewhere boring?" She laughs. "Come on. Dance with me!" She joins the throng of moving people, raising her arms in the air and shaking her hips to the beat. I join her, throwing my head back and losing myself to the sound of the beat. I let all my thoughts and worries go: the girl with red hair, abilities; and I just dance.

After a few minutes, Will and Sean join us. They're both wearing slacks and button down shirts. Sean's wearing a fedora. I frown. Shouldn't they be more dressed up? I look at the people dancing around us. I guess not, every guy seems to be wearing some variation of that outfit, like it's the official club uniform. And the uniform for girls seems to be tight dresses and sky high heels. I look at my own beige peep toe wedges. I'm so glad I didn't wear the stilettos that Zoe set out for me. I may not fit in perfectly, but I will leave tonight with all of my toes still intact. If I had worn the heels, I would actually have fallen and died. Gracefulness is definitely not one of my abilities.

"Hey, Kyla," Will greets me with one of his smiles. Sean just waves and points at his mouth. Will notices and laughs. "Sean, you don't have to be quiet anymore. I thought I unjinxed you already."

Sean shakes his head in mock sadness.

I smile back. "Hey, Will. Hey, Sean." Sean tips his hat at me, still silent, and I laugh. The two guys are more similar than I thought.

"Want to dance?" I ask, and without waiting for an answer I grab them and pull them deeper into the throng of people. Sean instantly starts dancing with the person nearest him, a girl with long black hair. Will, however, looks like a deer that's been caught in a pair of headlights, standing stock still and eyeing the people around him nervously. He gives Sean one last glare before the other boy disappears into the crowd of people, still dancing.

"Come on scaredy cat. You are one of the last people I'd expect to chicken out at the club. Didn't you want to come?"

Will looks at me, worrying his lip between his teeth. "I've never really been comfortable around large groups of people. Too many pairs of judging eyes for my taste."

I want to laugh, but he really does look terrified. I'd never have pegged Will for someone with social anxiety. I suppose anyone can have stuff like that.

"I was fine with coming, but Sean promised he'd stick with me so that I could focus on him," he explains. "If I focus on just one person I can ignore all the people in the background and relax." He looks around for Sean again. "You can see how that worked out for me."

"Well that's an easy enough fix," I say brightly. "You can just focus on me instead!"

Will looks at me like a third eyeball just popped out of my forehead. "Focus on you?"

I frown. He doesn't have to sound like that about it. "Yeah, why not me? I'm your friend, just like Sean is, so it shouldn't be that different."

Will laughs. "That's a good one, Kyla." He spots my confused face and his laughter trickles into nothingness. "Oh shoot. I didn't tell you yet did I?"

"Tell me what?"

"Sean's not just my friend, Kyla. He's my boyfriend." He flashes me a grin. "Don't think dancing with you will have the same effect as dancing with Sean."

He frowns when I don't say anything. "You aren't...offended or anything? I can still be your friend if I'm gay right?"

I fling my arms around him and give him a tight squeeze. He relaxes into my arms. I hold him back at arm's length and stare into his eyes, willing him to know that what I'm about to say is the truth. "Will, I'd be your friend no matter what. You can love anyone you want. It doesn't matter to me. What matters is how you act. You are a kind, sweet person, and I want you to be my friend. That means I'll accept you for who you are."

Will lets out a sigh, and I release him. "Thanks Kyla."

"Of course, Will." I smile. "I meant every word of it." I look at him slyly. "But I have one question." He looks at me in confusion. "Now will you dance with me? We can try and find Sean if you want."

He smiles, his entire face lighting up. "I'd love to, Kyla."

○○○○○

We dance for what seems like hours, each member of the group drifting closer to one another until we all end up dancing in a circle. Feeling hot and sweaty, I make my way out of the group of dancers and sit down at the bar.

I resist the urge to laugh. The scene feels like something out of a movie; girl dances at the club, gets tired, then has a drink. The only difference is that I'm at a school, and there's no alcohol here. The bartender comes over. "What'll you have?"

I look at the various signs behind him that list off the available beverages in a colorful matchup of various sizes and fonts. He begins to look impatient, so I quickly choose something. "I'll have a Sprite and a lemonade please. And an empty glass."

He eyes me strangely, then walks off, mumbling something about "girls and their diet fads." I laugh. He brings me my order and I begin to assemble my drink. Spriteade is something I've been drinking for years. I never liked Sprite, and I loved bubbly drinks, so one day when I was sick, my mom mixed the two drinks together. It was amazing, and I've been drinking it ever since. I've learned all the tricks about ordering it now too. It isn't like you can't just order Spriteade, so I have to get creative. I tried asking for a half and half mixture, but the ratios were all wrong. So now, I order two separate drinks and a glass, to mix it myself.

I don't know how he thought it was part of a diet though, I thought, sipping on my drink. Lemonade and soda? It's probably one of the sugariest combos known to man. I eye a girl sitting at the bar with a salad. She's barely touching it, nibbling at bits of lettuce like a bird. She's also probably a size double zero, or something even smaller, if that exists. I can't see anyone like her drinking this. Not unless they had a metabolism that ran at the speed of light.

I'm so absorbed in my own thoughts that I almost don't notice him when he sits down next to me. Damien.

I get out of my chair and debate confronting him before I slap him across the face. He's at a club with teenagers around him, so there's no way he's in anger mode. I hear a sharp intake of breath from the people around us, but no one intervenes.

My voice is higher than normal, almost a whine. "What were you thinking!" I shriek at Damien, my temper and the pitch of my voice rising in anger. "You left me in a completely new place, with no idea what to do or where to go! And this is after you kidnap me!"

Damien looks unperturbed by my tirade; his face a blank slate devoid of emotions. Somehow that infuriates me more than if he had tried to defend himself.

Will appears by my side. "Kyla, what's wrong? Why are you screaming?" He catches sight of Damien and his features harden. "Oh."

"The young lady is upset because of how she was brought here. No matter that she was brought here the same way everyone else was, little miss princess needs everything to be exactly to her specifications."

He might have continued with his stupid justification of his actions, if Will hadn't slapped him a second time. Damien's lip twitched, and his face reddened, but there wasn't any of him arguing.

Will steered me away from the bar, towards the door. "Okay, Kyla, what happened?"

"I'll tell you what' happened," I say to Will. "He kidnapped me, then left me in a parking lot and showed up just like nothing ever happened." As I utter the words, the full weight of why I'm upset hits me. "He chose me, and then he abandoned me. Just like my parents did." I feel my eyes well up, and soon enough I'm crying. Tears flow down my face in a river of pain, but they still aren't strong enough to wash away the hurt that my parents left behind.

I feel more vulnerable than I would like, stripped down to the core of who I am. I've exposed the story about my parents to an entire club, not that they were listening but my pride doesn't care. I just burst into tears in front of hundreds of random strangers. And to top it all off? I'm dressed like Jessica Rabbit, with heels and a revealing dress. I bury my face in my hands and run back to my room.

***

I lay on my bed, head buried in my arms. 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 voice is shaky, like she's going to start crying now too. "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.

"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 curly brown 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 sound of an alarm jolts me out of sleep. Groggy, I look around for the cause of the noise and see a message scrolling along a flat screen TV that I didn't notice yesterday.

It is time to wake up. It is time to wake up. It is time to wake up.

I glance at the time in the bottom right corner of the screen and let out a loud groan. 5:00 Am? That's ridiculous. Marley would have said that it's the butt crack of dawn. Looking out the window at the dark sky, I'd have to agree with her. If the sun's not even up yet, why should I be?

I groan again. This is what I have to look forward to every morning? I might as well sleep in a fire station. The constant noise of fire alarms would be more welcome than this annoying wail. I reassure myself that I still have weekends to catch up on sleep, assuming Will doesn't come wake me up.

I pull off my sheets and swing my feet onto the cold wooden floor. As soon as I do so the alarm stops. The floor must have weight sensors under it, to register when I get out of bed. I walk towards my bathroom, sleep making my movements slow and clumsy. I brush my teeth with the new toothbrush and toothpaste I find under the sink. Deciding against a shower, I open my dresser with the fingerprint lock (even though I don't know how they got my fingerprint) and stand there, gaping. From the outside the dresser appears ordinary, but it hides a walk in closet. I walk inside and choose a pair of pants and a shirt. The material of both is soft and stretchy, like workout clothes. I'll be comfortable today at the very least. I look down at the dark blue shirt and white jeans I grabbed. I look at least somewhat put together.

Exiting my room, I make my way to the dining hall. Everyone seems to be gathered at the small tables, so I grab my food and look around for the group. I spot them in a corner by a divider, so I make my way over and sit next to Zoe.

"Hey guys," I greet them, my words slightly mumbled. I'm still not fully awake. I get a lackluster chorus of hellos back.

Zoe smirks at me. "Hey sleepyhead. You've got toothpaste on the corner of your mouth."

"What!" I rub frantically at the corners of my mouth. "Is it gone?"

Zoe laughs at my reaction. "Yeah. Don't flip out. Your image is saved. Except for the fact that everyone here saw it."

I highly doubt that. Sean is too busy flicking blueberries at Zoe's impressive stack of waffles to see anything. And Will is occupied under the table, tying Sean's shoelaces in some convoluted sailor knot.

I sigh. Sitting down, I direct my focus to the plate of pancakes in front of me. Despite feeding what has to be 100 teens, the food here seems pretty good.

"So how are you planning on eating that in the five minutes you have before classes start, Kyla? Unless you have another power you didn't tell me about." Will pops out from under the table and waves his hand across the air like he's the reading rainbow meme. "Speed eating."

I choke on my bite of pancakes. "Five minutes?!" I start shoveling pancakes into my face as fast as possible. I'm not fast enough though. When the bell rings, I still have food on my plate. Sean wasn't kidding when he said that Zoe eats a lot though. There isn't a trace left of the mountains of waffles I saw on her plate. There aren't even any berries. I leave my plate on the table, mirroring the other's actions, and follow Zoe to my first class.

***

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. I bet at least a few people are telepathic.

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. I 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 of the classroom, I realize why Zoe's face is so panicked, and I'm hoping that my face isn't a mirror image of her's.

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