A/N: Colt wants to speak Italian...

Chapter Two

“Yo, Dyrt, wake up!” I groggily lifted my head, a wave of muddy river strands in my face. “Wow, nice bed-head. Isn’t long hair a pain?”

I shoved my hair out of my face and it fell back to where it belonged. “Good morning, Dyrt,” Samuel greeted, leaning on my bunk rail. I growled at me as I rubbed at my eyes which hurt. “Not a morning person. Got it. Now get up. You need to go see Ms. Talbot a-sap after breakfast.”

“What time is it?” I mumbled, rubbing at the thumping in my skull.

“Almost eight. The second period for breakfast is beginning soon.”

I groaned and flopped back face-first into the pillow. Greaserag hissed at me for the motion, and I opened a bleary eye at her as she pawed at my mane.

“You hungry, girl?” I asked, my voice muffled by the pillow. She mewled, and I petted her a few times before forcing myself up and sliding to the floor. My knapsack was tossed up on the bottom bunk, next to a few boxes with ‘Christopher Kay’ neatly printed across them in my aunt's handwriting. I frowned, and turned them around to face each other so the name didn’t show. Then I located clean clothes and a bottle of medication which I shook as I stepped into the closet-sized bathroom.

“Oy! Hurry up!” Samuel called through the thin wooden door as I shook the bottle and removed the cap. “We need to get to breakfast and then the office, and if I’m late for class I’m blaming you!” I gripped the bottle with my mouth and drank it as I changed. The fabric of my clothes felt different, almost smoother than they should have been.

I pulled the bottle from my mouth and tossed it into the trashcan as I opened the door. “What, were you assigned to follow me around or something?”

“Yep.” Samuel shut one eye as I slid my feet into my sneakers, leaning against the post supporting my bed. Greaserag meowed pitifully and I petted her, marveling at the softness of her fur, before standing up to follow Samuel.

“Where can I get some cat food?” I asked.

“Oh, the animal science classes have tons of food. Just ask.”

As we walked towards the mess hall, I stated, “I was surprised they’d let me bring my cat.”

“Well, this isn’t your normal school,” Samuel shrugged. “Lots of kids live here permanently, kicked out of their homes and stuff.”

“Just children?”

“Well, yeah. This is for the Closet for youth. Kids under twelve go to a different one, and once we’re eighteen we can either try to find work, or go to the one for adults. But there’s lots of different schools for us out there. Well, relatively.”

“Closet?” I repeated, testing the word on my tongue as he opened the door to the mess hall. Fluent though I was in English, the shaping of some words felt strange.

“Oh, that’s what we call the schools,” Samuel explained with a grin. “You know, ‘skeletons in the closet’? Stuff you want to hide or don’t care about?”

I didn’t say anything, and simply ducked into the doorway under his arm, slightly annoyed I didn't have to bend much. The noise that greeted me gave me a slight jump. Kids were seated at tables, a sea of different colors of skin and hair, washed over with different languages.

“Grab a plate,” Samuel instructed, running his hand through his curly mop. “Now, breakfast and dinner are served fresh, but lunch is on us. You use your card to get stuff from the vending machines. I’ll show you later.”

We moved along slender tables laden with pans of scrambled eggs, pancakes, sausages, and bacon. On another sat piles of fruit, bowls of yogurt, and packs of cereal.

“Wow,” I commented.

“Yeah, it’s a lot, huh?” Samuel grinned. "And most of it's donated."

“SAAAAAAAAAM!” I jumped back as a girl with shiny black hair tackled the American from behind. Samuel acted as if he didn’t even notice as she smacked at his head while clinging to his back. “You jerk! You left your tools out all over the floor and I had to clean up after you!”

“Dyrt, meet Kali,” he introduced, still serving himself. “She’s a pain in the neck.”

She stood back on her own feet, and snapped, “You’re the pain, Sam Conway, you total jerk!” Her words were rolled, and it took me a moment to distinguish her Rs from Ls. She turned to me, her loose hair whipping about freely as if it moved a few seconds slower than her. "Who are you?" she asked politely.

"Ah...Dyrt..."

Her face molded into one of perplexion, before Samuel explained around a sausage link in his mouth, "Nickname." Then she smiled warmly, and grinned up at me.

"Hi Dyrt, I'm Kali! How did you get mixed up with lamebrain here?"

"I'm his roommate..." I hesitantly picked up a plate, slight bumps from traces of the last meal under my fingers. Ignoring it, I gingerly served myself as Kali got a plate and piled it with fruit and yogurt, her head turned still to Samuel as she continued to scold him.

"I'm not your maid, Samuel! I won't keep picking up after you! And you better wash your jumpsuit because it reeks!"

"Yeah yeah..." he clapped his rough hand on the back of my neck, almost making me drop my plate in surprise. "C'mon, Dyrt. Let's leave psycho girl on her own."

I shook free of his hand, as we sat down at a table relatively unoccupied. Looking around at all the kids it felt strange, acting as if they were all friends and they were okay with being dirty. I gripped my fork in my hand, feeling foolish as I half-heartedly poked at my food, the eggs somehow rubbery and runny at the same time and the bacon a little burnt. I wished I was back at my aunt's, where she at least knew how to time the instant meals so they didn't taste funny.

Kali sat down aside Samuel, and the two bickered back and forth between bites. I sank down into my chair, feeling sick. I played with the eggs a bit, before Samuel stood up and announced we had to get to Ms. Talbot. I dumped most of my food out and followed behind him. The hallways inside the building were lit with yellowed bulbs, and seemed rather narrow for a school, even a temporary one. Yet kids lined the small hallway, yammering to each other and their voices bouncing off in a confusing mess.

While the tinny raps of their words rebounded and echoed, I felt the gentle fluttering of something else in the air. The feeling tickled but felt confined, aching to burst free from the invisible confines that held it at bay.

I suddenly felt cold as I ran my fingers along the wall, feeling the bumps and cracks in the layer of paint directly below the outer one. What a sloppy repair job.

Sam’s legs, being much longer, gave him a wider stride and more speed. He stopped and looked back at me, flashing a white grin. "Having trouble there, shorty?" he teased as he held open a door for me, a paper sign announcing the counselors' office.

I frowned at him and stepped through, and discovered the spacious room had been divided into tiny, almost closet-sized sections. Samuel approached one and rapped with his knuckles three times on the flimsy plastic door before opening it. "Yo Missus T," he greeted and leaned on the door with his casual smile. "Got your boy here for you." He looped his arm around my neck. "In one piece too."

I shrugged out of his friendly gesture with a frown at him. Both he and Mrs. Talbot shared a chuckle. "Thank you Samuel."

"See ya in class, Dyrt," he raised a hand in farewell, and pushed me inside the door before closing it. Mrs. Talbot smiled at me and motioned to the seat across from her narrow desk supporting more folders and a sleek laptop. I rubbed at my arms feeling goose bumps under my fingers as I sat down on the rickety folding chair.

"So...how has your first day been so far?" she asked with her soothing voice.

"There's...a lot of kids," I replied quietly, playing with my baggy sleeves. "More than I really expected."

She nodded with a knowing smile. "Many of our new students are overwhelmed at the amount of people we host here. Other than that, how are you?"

I fingered the fabric on my pants, wondering at what soap had been used on them to make them feel so slick. "Alright. I guess."

"Can you understand everyone? Or do I need to order a translator?"

"I speak English just fine," I replied uneasily. "Accents make it hard, but I can understand everyone."

"So you're okay with having English textfiles?" When I nodded, she turned to her computer. "Let's see...I tried to line up your schedule with some of your roommates so you'll have familiar faces to help you meet others."

"Alright." She passed a sheet to me, covered in small squares that divided my time in splinters. I frowned at some of the subjects.

"Your notebook will be sent to your room. Do you need anything else?"

"I need a refill on my medicine and food for my cat...What's this ‘Historical Development of Mental Science'?" I pointed at the square on the printed paper.

Mrs. Talbot picked up the phone as she waved my question away easily. "That's on the history of telepathy and such, you shouldn't worry too much. We're just trying to educate everyone that our abilities aren't some strange magic-ah, hello!" she started speaking into the phone. "Karise, come in please."

I looked down at my hands. Magic, huh. “Mrs. Talbot?” I asked quietly once she got off the phone.

She detected the hesitant tone in my voice, and asked with concern, “What is it Dyrt?”

“I know I’m not a telepath,” I stated. “So what will happen to me?”

She sighed and sat back. “You don’t know that you aren’t, Dyrt. The test you took back home did confirm you showed signs-“

“But forty-eight percent of normal people do.” I knew the statistics from my aunt reading them off the information packet the doctor back home had given us when my cousin had his accident.

Mrs. Talbot smiled gently at me, and leaned forward onto her desk. “Dyrt, don’t categorize people into ‘normal’ or ‘not’. Telepaths are just like everyone else, just with an extra gift. Also, don’t worry about what will happen. We’ll make sure you go where you’re supposed to, no matter what.”

That’s what I’m afraid of. I wanted to say it, but kept my mouth shut. At that awkward moment, the door opened, and I turned to see who we would try to cram into the tiny space with us.

You know that feeling when you want to say something but everything fails and your mouth just winds up hanging open? It's a pretty unattractive look, and I'm certain the girl who just entered behind me found it amusing.

"Dyrt, meet Karise. Karise, this is Dyrt. He's our newest student."

I stood up swiftly, knocking the chair back. She looked at me with soft blue eyes, pure and piercing from under almost white-blonde hair gathered in a loose braid. "Hello Dyrt," she forced her mouth straight but it broke a few times.

"Hi," I greeted lamely, and wished to kick myself.

"Karise, would you mind taking Dyrt to the infirmary to get his vitals checked and a tracking band?" Mrs. Talbot asked. "I'm a bit too busy to take him myself-"

"It's no problem Mrs. Talbot," Karise replied, turning to leave the small room. I was quick to follow her as her blonde braid swayed, crumpling the school schedule and shoving it into my back pocket. “So, Dyrt, how do you like our school?” Karise asked easily.

“It’s…okay,” I paused. “I don’t really want to be here,” I added truthfully.

Karise laughed and threw her hands up in the air. “Who does? Most of the administration doesn’t want to, either!”

“Really?”

She smiled as we continued down the hall. “Yeah, most everyone on the staff is related to a student either here or at another institute. The pay is the same as other places, so there’s no real benefit to working here for…people not like us.”

I sensed her pause, and knew she wanted to say ‘normal’. “Makes sense…” I mumbled.

Uncomfortable silence reigned for a moment, before she started again. “My mom told me you’re from Italy. Did you live there?”

“Your mom?”

She laughed. “Mrs. Talbot. She’s my mother. We both work here, and I have to call her Mrs. Talbot. But you did live in Italy?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t have an accent!”

I shrugged, playing with the end of my shirt. “I speak English just as well as Italian.”

“Say something.” She looked at me, excited.

“…Like what?”

“I don’t know…say Venice is beautiful.”

“Venezia è bello.” The words fell easily from my mouth without a second thought. They felt comforting, like I hadn’t completely lost myself yet.

“Have you ever been to Venice?” she asked suddenly.

“No.” I shook my head.

“Not once?”

I shook my head again as she stopped outside a door marked with the international health sign. “Pity.” I shrugged, as I had never really felt any urge to go to Venice.

Karise opened the door and smiled at me. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay.” I stepped inside, and the door shut behind me. A small sofa sat opposite a desk where a Hispanic man sat, working on a computer behind the name plaque that said ‘Robert Garcia’. He looked up at me.

“Christopher?” he asked.

“Call me Dyrt,” I corrected, getting a little irritated at having to tell everyone.

“Then you call me Robert, deal?” he asked with a smile, before standing up. “Well, let’s get into the exam room and take your stats. Insurance policy says we can’t have any more walking corpses. Besides, it’s bad for the school image.”

I cracked a smile at that, and followed after him into the small doctor’s office. He patted the table. “Strip to your waist,” he instructed. I hesitated, but obeyed.

He turned to me, as his good-natured smile faded into a slight frown. “Where did you get that?”

I shifted uncomfortably before pulling myself up onto the exam table. He stepped closer to exam the strange mark across my shoulder. “My grandparents told me it was an accident with boiling water from when I was little. I don’t remember it.” The lie felt strange.

Robert passed it off as nothing, with a simple shrug and put his stethoscope into his ears. “Shall we?”

He did the usual check-up and asked the standard questions about my health and any past problems. He threw out several jokes during it, many of which truly made me laugh. I told him about my medicine, and he said he would get the prescription and refill it so I could pick up weekly supplies from the infirmary.

“Alrighty then…” he inspected the stats as they entered themselves from his instruments into the computer and I pulled my shirt back on. “You’ve got a clean bill of health. We’ll just put this data into a wristband and then get you in the scanner. After that, you’re free to go.” He dug around in a cabinet and pulled out one of the metal trackers everyone wore.

“Do I…have to wear that?” I asked uncomfortably.

“I know, kind of ugly, huh?” he stated as he looked at the thing now connected like another piece of hardware. “But they serve a purpose. Keep the rampaging teenagers under control.” He winked and I gave a weak laugh.

When the computer said the transfer was complete, he put the band around my right wrist and tightened into place. “Don’t take it off, alright?”

I nodded, feeling miserable. The tracker felt like a dead weight, and although was padded for comfort, didn’t feel right. I wondered how on earth I would manage to wear it twenty-four seven without it distracting me.

“Let’s go stick you in the tube!” Robert said merrily, pulling out the data card from the computer and moving through a small door.

“Tube?” I raised an eyebrow, sliding from the table and following after him.

“Yep. We’re going to scan your head to make sure you’re not crazy.”

I stared at the machine as Robert moved to a small counter and pulled out a bottle. “Take these-“ he dumped two pills into my hand, “And go lie down on that table…bed thing. It’ll put you into the machine, just like a CAT scan.”

“Why the meds?” I asked, looking at them in my hand.

“So you’ll go to sleep and not be bored to death.” Robert slid the data card into another computer. I rolled my eyes and swallowed the pills without water, then slid myself onto the mat, trying to lie out flat.

“Geez, you’re not dying,” Robert scoffed. “You can relax and make yourself comfortable.”

I slid my arms behind my heads. “How long does this take?” I could already feel the drugs working, and wondered at how the effect could come so fast from pills.

“Let’s just say it’ll be past lunch time when you wake up. And you’ll be in your bed, so don’t freak out then.” He replied, fiddling with controls attached to the machine. I sighed and shut my eyes, trying to will the pills to hurry up.

I saw the light through my eyelids, and cracked one eye open.

Suddenly pain streaked across me as water splashed. I screamed at the boiling heat, burning into my skin. I clutched at my shoulder, as I looked up weakly at the woman still holding the pot. She pulled it back, and started to swing it towards me like a bat. I felt it connect and shake my whole body with blinding pain.

“Dyrt!”

My eyes snapped open as a hand on my arm shook me. I looked straight at Glenn, his green and violet eyes frowning as much as his mouth. “Are you alright?”

“…yeah,” I made out.

“You toss in your sleep a lot,” he commented, stepping away from my bed and going to his bunk to put away his laptop.

I sat up and stretched, feeling like my shoulders were cramped. “What time is it?”

“Almost four. You slept a long time. Classes are over.” He looked at me. “Free time for most everybody. Want to go swimming or play basketball or something?”

“Basketball sounds good,” I replied.

“Alright.” He slapped my feet. “Get your shoes on and let’s go see if there’s a game we can join. Right after you get your band drained.”

I looked down at my wrist, and saw the yellow light flashing.