Chapter 2

            I stumble through the halls of the school between periods in a daze, looking more lost than ever, but this time it’s not an act. I’m just lost in thought. They didn’t care when Luca called me Felix; does that mean it’s time for me to tell them? To cast aside Felicity like a snake sheds its skin? I shake my head, muttering something about clearing my head when one of my friends looks at me questioningly. No, I can’t. They just thought it was a nickname. If I tell them, they’ll just say it’s a natural part of being a teenager. Blaming it on hormones, as per…

            Someone taps my shoulder, and I start, looking around wildly. Somehow he had reached our usual lunch table without realizing it. Whoever tapped my shoulder laughs, and I recognize that bubbly, insanely girlish laugh.

            “What’s wrong with you today, Fel?” my best friend, Melanie, asks curiously. Her words don’t hide daggers, like the others’ do. “You’re so out of it.”

            “Yeah, Fel,” sneers Brianna, one of the other girls at the table, using Mel’s nickname for me. I can feel my blood boil, but I try controlling my anger. “You’re turning into a real Dozy Debby.”

            Debby’s this girl at our school. She’s a total loner, and she always walks around in a daze. Like I was doing before.

            A sheen of red tinges my vision, and I narrow my eyes into a glare. “Shut it, Bitchy Brianna. I don’t even know why you sit with us. You’re nowhere near pretty enough, that’s for sure.”

            I lean back in my chair, hardly noticing the others staring at me. The tide of red is starting to ebb, but it comes back in full force at her next words.

            “Prettier than you’ll ever be,” she hisses, and I notice her gaze flick down to my flat chest.

            Okay, so I’m not exactly a proper girl, but even to a guy that’s pretty damn insulting, and that’s how I justify lunging at her, hands grabbing for her throat and a wild look in my eyes as she’s practically throwing herself away from me.

            I’m just about to grab her neck and start throttling her like she deserves when Mel grabs me by the elbows and yanks me back, and even when I’m back in my seat she doesn’t let go.

            “Let go, Mel, she deserves it,” I snarl, sounding totally unladylike. But it isn’t Mel who hisses in my ear with just as much venom in their words as I put in mine.

            “Do you want to get expelled? You’re a freakin’ idiot, Felix.”

            I know that voice. It’s Luca.

            Immediately I go limp, sinking down into my chair. Brianna’s staring at me like I’ve just sprouted wings and a furry tail. No �" more like I’ve gone stark raving mad. And it’s not just her; it’s practically everyone in the cafeteria. I twist my head to look at Luca, and it’s like I’ve been punched in the gut when I see he’s got the same expression decorating his face, although his is tinged with disgust.

            “Thanks for saving me, Luca,” Brianna sings sweetly. She’s totally in love with him, but he’s not interested at all, proven when he gags at her sugar-laden voice.

            “I wasn’t going to do anything,” I spit, digging the hole I’m trapped in just a little bit deeper.

            “Yeah, right,” he snaps irritably. “From where I was sitting, you looked pretty murderous. If I hadn’t come in when I had, that girl might not be breathing right now.”

            Brianna’s eyes widen as he stalks off, but she doesn’t try thanking him again. She knows better now. A faint blush spreads across my cheeks, and I’m waiting for the others to go back to gossiping or whatever it is they were doing. But they just sit there, staring at me with their eyes full of fear, like I’m still trying to kill that b***h.

            The silence grows, and my blush deepens. But then someone comes to my rescue.

            “What you said wasn’t very fair, Bri,” says Mel hesitantly. My heart soars and I turn to smile at her, but she won’t meet my eyes, and that stupid muscle in the middle of my chest falls back down just as suddenly as it came up.

            Abruptly I stand up, my bag hanging off one shoulder. “I’m moving table,” I say blandly, without much feeling. Mel reaches a hand out to stop me, but I’m already gone, halfway to the only table in the cafeteria with any seats left. Dozy Debby’s table.

            “Right where she belongs,” I hear Brianna stage-whisper as I walk away.

            At the end of the day, Luca practically drags me out of school to his car, my struggles fruitless. He yanks the door open and shoves me in, like he doesn’t trust me to do it myself. He climbs in himself, and I can see he’s pissed �" angrier than I’ve ever seen him before. I shrink away in my seat, scared he’ll hit me, and he snorts derisively.

            “What the hell did you think you were doing?” he cries suddenly, thumping the steering wheel with his fists for emphasis. I wince at the thud and try ignoring the venom in his words.

            “She was being a b***h,” I say, but even to my ears it sounds weak. Hardly enough to justify attempted murder, if you could call it that. I decide not to.

            “You know what? I don’t care. You’re lucky if she doesn’t call the police on you for assault.”

            I frown. Something like that isn’t worth calling the police over. Besides, I didn’t even touch her. But I don’t say anything like that. Wisely, I keep quiet, and at last he sighs exasperatedly and starts driving. A dagger of sorrow tears through my heart, but I push the pain away. I’m not ready to deal with that just yet.

            The next day, I sit alone. Not even Debby comes to sit at the table, and when I look over at my old table I see her sitting in my old seat, chatting with my old friends. I can feel the tide of red surfacing again, but I squash the feeling down as best I can and get my sketchbook out of my bag. Yep, that’s right, not only am I a potential male model but also a potential artist. I’m just full of surprises.

            I flick to the drawing I’m working on at the moment. It’s a portrait of my dear brother, profile, his dark hair flopping over his eye. Yes, my platinum hair is an anomaly. A rogue allele in my genetic structure. Yet another reason to be called a freak.

            I trace along the angular outline of his jaw, shading it lightly. It looks almost real if I unfocus my eyes and look at it out of the corner of my eye. Yeah, right. A preschooler could do better. I’m only continuing it because it takes my mind off things.

            “Loving the detail, Carver,” a voice says suddenly, and I jump. The pencil skids across the paper and I desperately rub the mark away as the speaker seats themselves across from me, hoping that it’ll come off cleanly. It does.

            I glance up, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear. As soon as I see who it is I give myself a mental whack for not guessing who it would be.

            “You can’t be serious, Lancaster. What detail?” I joke, and a smile breaks out on a face remarkably free of blemishes for his age.

            Jericho Lancaster, teenager. He’s in my form class, and never refers to anyone by their first name. He’s cute �" for a guy. Mel is totally crushing on him, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Ever.

            “This,” he says simply, then laughs, trailing one finger along the faintly visible line left by his appearance.

            “Yeah, well, that was your fault,” I say crossly, putting my sketchbook away again. A strange, unfamiliar look crosses his face. Could it be that Jerry Lancaster is actually sorry? No. It must be a trick of the light.

            “Sorry, man,” he mutters sheepishly. “You’re a really good artist, you know that? No jokes, I swear.”

            I glance away, feeling a slight brush stain my cheeks, and curse myself for being so susceptible to compliments. Even something as small as that can get this effect.

            “Thanks,” I mumble. And then, just when things are getting awkward: “Thanks for sitting with me as well. I was beginning to think I’d be alone for the rest of my life.”

            Jerry stands, grinning. “No problem, mate. By the way, you’d make a kickass ninja.”

Author's Note

YES HE WOULD MAKE A GOOD NINJA.

Reviews

[Dini]

HE would make a good ninja? What gender is this person, biologically? And she (??) says "He's cute- for a guy." Does that mean she's lesibian, or trans or something else?Because I'm REALLY confused

But I guess I should be patient and wait till you explain in the coming chapters, right? Well, you're definitely keeping me hooked, that's for sure!