AN: I can't believe how much writing this chapter wore me out. I don't even know why I decided to continue this so much. Very few people even care about it. If I think about it, I should update Dusk and Apples instead. But I've got sort of a writer's clock on that one, so...probably nothing on that for a while. Anyway, I hope the few people who actually read this story are pleased with it and enjoy it. Have fun.

I shouldered one of my larger, heavier bags as I stepped out of the cab onto the cobblestoned ground. I looked up at the giant building in front of me that was going to be both my school and home for almost two years.

It was made of some kind of thick stone…marble, maybe? I couldn’t tell. It was the biggest building I’d ever seen. It was easily twenty or thirty stories tall. A large door, dwarfed by the sheer size of the place, marked the entrance.

Four buildings littered the horizon. All of them were made of brick. While they were also large, they couldn’t have been more than ten stories at most. Those were probably the dorms. They looked nice enough, I guess. This school took care of their students it seemed. An overweight man in a suit came out of the main building, accompanied by two fairly large students; probably seniors.

“You must be Jason Borenz,” the man said warmly. The two boys moved forward to grab my bags still in the cab. I stepped aside and let them. The man came forwards to shake my hand. “Welcome to St. Vincent’s boarding school. I’m the Dean, Mr. Larson. It’s such a pleasure to have you here.”

I really wanted to say, ‘I wish I could say the same for being here, but unfortunately I’m here against my will’, but he started walking around the building and I had to run to catch up.

“I think you’re really going to like it here, Jason,” Mr. Larson said. “Our boys receive the finest education in the state. You will attend seven classes for eight hours each day except for Saturday and Sunday. You are required to wear the school uniform during all classes, but you may change into casual clothes otherwise. Saturday is a free day for recreational activities, and on Sundays all students are required to work a certain job in the town. One will be decided for you before that time.

“The cafeteria is in the main building. Breakfast is at six-o-clock sharp, leaving students and hour and a half to eat before class. You get an hour for lunch at eleven-thirty. Dinner is held at six-thirty.

“You will be sharing a dorm room with another junior, Marcus Catelain, in dorm room 23B. Each dorm room has two beds, two desks, one bathroom, one computer, and two wardrobes for clothes. Your school schedule can be found in the top drawer of your desk. Tomorrow morning, a senior student will give you a tour of the classrooms in the main building after breakfast.

“Do you have any questions?” I looked up, startled, as the man turned towards me expectantly. I shook my head slowly. I hadn’t caught a word he said, and I wasn’t looking forward to any repeats.

Mr. Larson led me inside one of the brick buildings I saw earlier through a peeling white door. The inside was clean, but had a sort of lived-in feeling. A few flowers rested on side tables flanking the inside of the door. A closer inspection revealed that they were fake.

I followed Mr. Larson down the hallway past numerous closed doors with brass numbers on them. We passed one room at the end of the hall that had no door and looked like a sort of lounge. A TV took up one side of the room, in front of a cushy-looking couch. A few boys were squashed together on it, watching some show I couldn’t see. Others were littered around the room; talking or playing games. I could see six guys playing cards in the corner.

We climbed some stairs and stopped in front of a door that was adorned with a brass 23B. I noticed that the B was hanging upside-down. Mr. Larson rapped once sharply on the wood and opened the door.

“Marcus? Your new roommate, Jason, is here.” A voice floated through the doorway.

“So tell him to come in. He has legs, right?” I frowned and shouldered my way past Mr. Larson into the room. A boy laid on the bed closest to the door. He was barefoot, clad only in a pair of ripped jeans and a red t-shirt. One knee was raised, supporting a notebook. A pen was held in his hand, poised over the paper. Black, untidy hair hung in his face as he surveyed me with dark eyes…were they brown or green? He flicked a wrist up in a semblance of a wave.

“Hey,” he said, smiling. “I’m Marcus. But call me Mark. Marcus makes me sound like a prude.” I waved half-heartedly in response.

“Well, I’ll let you two get to know each other,” Mr. Larson said brightly, leaving. I turned back to Marcus and stood in place awkwardly. He stared at me, eyebrows raised, for a few seconds, and then began to write in his notebook.

I noticed that my other bags had been brought up and were laying on the bed on the opposite side of the room. I grabbed them and hauled them into the wardrobe at the foot of the bed. I could unpack later. I noticed that there was a crisp blue and white uniform hanging up on one side. Mom must have ordered it for me, because I certainly couldn’t remember ever hearing anything about it. I closed the wardrobe and sat on the bed, unsure of what to do.

“You know, you can talk or something. I’m not going to rip your throat out.” I shrugged awkwardly.

“I know, I just…don’t have anything to say.” Marcus sighed exasperatedly.

“Then get on the computer, or unpack, or something. It makes me feel fidgety when people just do nothing.” He sat up. “Look, if you don’t want to start a conversation, then I’ll go first. Why’d you get sent here?” I grimaced.

“You don’t want to know, and I don’t want to tell you.”

“Me, my parents were just sick of looking at me,” Marcus said as if I hadn’t spoken. “Hardly anyone ever comes here to get a ‘fine education’, like the jolly old dean would like you to believe. Mostly it’s deviants and the occasional burden of the state. I will say this for the place: Most students study pretty hard if only so they won’t have to repeat a year. Four is enough in this hellhole.” He grinned. “I think someone like you will really like it here, though.”

“’Someone like me’?” I echoed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know; the rich, pretty boy, jock types. You slide right into that category. You do play a sport, right?” I glared at him.

“Tennis,” I grumbled reluctantly. His grin widened.

“Really? Me, too. We should play each other sometime, don’t you think?”

“Sure,” I muttered. “Whatever.” When hell froze over, maybe. This guy was a psychopath waiting to happen. No way was I going to let him corrupt me. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t get some information out of him.

“So, there’s a town near here?” I asked, recalling a snatch of conversation I’d heard from Mr. Larson.

“If you could call it that,” Marcus scoffed. “It’s mostly a fishing town. It’ll look huge, but believe me it’s not. It’s awful having to work down there. You never get used to the smell.” I grimaced.

“Are there any girls?” I asked bluntly. If I was stuck around nobody but guys for the entire time I was here, I was sure I’d go crazy. Marcus crinkled his nose.

“If there are, they’re either old as hell or little kids. I think you’re out of luck.” He stared at me critically. “You’re straight? Really?” I scowled.

“Yes, I am straight. I like girls. I am not a homo.” Marcus laughed.

“Well, aren’t you just a bundle of fun? You won’t make it very long here if you’re straight.” I stared at him warily.

“Are you…are you…gay?” He winked.

“Of course. What, you didn’t realize?” I shuddered. He was gay, and I would be sharing a room with him? What was wrong with the world? Was it absolutely insane?! Was fate conspiring against me to make my life a living hell?! Marcus settled into a low smirk at the expression on my face.

“Don’t worry,” he said amusedly. “I’m not going to rape you in your sleep. You’re not my type anyway. And besides, I have a boyfriend.” He frowned thoughtfully. “Or, I did when I left home. I doubt he’s being faithful. Probably screwing the baker’s son…” His gaze settled back on me. “Anyway, don’t worry. I won’t do anything to you. Scout’s honor.”

And it would stay that way, I silently added. If Marcus so much as looked at me weird, I would sleep outside.

Marcus picked up his discarded notebook and started writing again. I laid down in my new bed. It was a little uncomfortable, probably due to the unfamiliarity, but I was so tired I didn’t care. The trip from Washington to Maine had given me major jet lag. All I wanted to do was sleep a little.

Maybe they would let me sleep through dinner. It wouldn’t kill me to skip through one meal. But I might die if I didn’t get enough sleep. What kind of food would they serve, anyway? Probably lousy food. Everyone knew school food wasn’t edible, and I doubted this one was any better. If only I could eat in town instead.

They probably served squid tentacles or cockroach sandwiches or something like that. Maybe they served meatloaf. I loved my mom’s meatloaf. But it probably wouldn’t be that good here.

I wondered what Sara was doing. Maybe she had already e-mailed me like she said she would? I should probably check and send her a message back soon. Maybe I should get up and do it now…nah, I could do it later. Maybe Joey e-mailed me too…

A bell rang loudly in my ear and I sat up in shock. A gray steel bell was above my head, going off loudly and grating against my brain. I clapped my hands over my ears. Oh god, why didn’t it stop?! Marcus appeared out of nowhere and pressed a button on the wall. The clanging stopped, and I dropped my arms in relief. My ears were still ringing.

“Dinner time,” he said brightly. “Come on, we need to get down to the cafeteria. If Mr. Larson notices you missing, he’ll come up here himself. And believe me, he’s more annoying than that bell.” I sat up groggily on my bed. I felt like I hadn’t slept at all.

“How long was I asleep?” Marcus shrugged.

“I don’t know. An hour, maybe?” He chuckled. “You were out, man. You kept moving around and mumbling about meatloaf. It was pretty entertaining.” He held out a hand to help me up, but I edged around it and stood up, putting a little distance between us.

“What am I, diseased?” He said indignantly. “I’m not going to make you gay just be touching you, you know. Chill out a little.” I wanted to, really. I didn’t actually think anything would happen. But my paranoia got the best of me.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “Uh…I think I can find the cafeteria by myself. See you later.” I slipped out the door and descended the stairs as quickly as I could. I ignored everyone else as I approached the main building. I found the cafeteria almost immediately once inside. How could I miss it? The place was huge. Not that I expected any less. This whole place was massive.

Dinner consisted of mashed potatoes, steamed carrots, and skinless chicken breast. I guess they were health-conscious at this school. Bread rolls were set out at every table, though I doubted their freshness when I noticed nobody was taking any of them. I found a secluded corner and sat down to eat.

The food wasn’t actually too bad, but it was a far cry from my mom’s cooking. At least I wouldn’t have to starve myself. Maybe mom would bring something when she visited.

I finished my food quickly and slipped away. It was sort of a relief not to have everyone watching my every move. I could get used to being the invisible one for a while. I walked around the grounds, occasionally coming across a few students walking around or sitting. I noticed that while most of them were change into casual clothes, a few still had their school uniform on.

For lack of a better location, I went back to my dorm room. Luckily, Marcus wasn’t there; probably hanging out with friends if he had any. That was better for me. At least I could change without fear and go to sleep in peace. I grabbed some pajamas out of one of my bags and quickly dressed into them, leaving my normal clothes on the floor in a heap. I was too lazy to put them away.

I laid down on the bed and wrapped the blankets around me in a protective cocoon. I was able to fall into a sort of half-sleep, in which I knew I was asleep but I was still aware of everything going on around me. I heard Marcus come in fairly late, and wondered vaguely where he had been the whole time. It wasn’t until he started snoring that I started to really fall asleep. If I had been awake, I would have smiled. My father snored all the time, and I’d gotten so used to hearing it that I just couldn’t get to sleep without it. That must have been the reason. I snuggled into the pillow once more before succumbing to the thick blanket of sleep.