First

"What's wrong with you today?"

If given the opportunity, Lisa Stonewall would probably be the worst psychologist ever. Sure, she has the uncanny ability to see how you're feeling, but the way she tries to fix it only makes you feel worse. You'd think after however many years of using her own techniques, she'd figure out that they don't really work.

My mood, which had already been crappy in the first place, added annoyance to the rest of the equation.

"Nothing's wrong." I lied.

"You liar."

I stared at the cup of mocha Lisa was stirring carelessly.

"I broke a shoe lace this morning." I said.

"You're not wearing sneakers. No one's worn sneakers since, like, 2010." Lisa said. "Tell me what's wrong."

I sighed, sitting back in my chair and looked up at the dome-shaped ceiling.

"Mom wants me to get Tested." I said. I chanced a glance at Lisa. She looked at me blankly.

"What's so wrong with that? You need to be Tested." She said.

"Lisa! I thought you were on my side!" I gasped incredulously.

"What? I'm just saying, you've kind of been putting it off for a long time. We need to figure out what's going on inside of you." She said. She tapped her spoon against the edge of her coffee cup and then took a sip of it.

"I thought we went over this. There's nothing inside of me. There never was, there never will be." I said with a frown.

"Oh, please. You're a Descendant. Of course there's something inside of you." Lisa said, rolling her eyes. She put down her coffee and assessed me. "Maybe it's shy." She reached out a finger and poked me in my side, making me squirm away.

"Stop that! Look, I'm nineteen and not once have I ever done anything. Face it. I'm a Simp." I said.

"I'd say otherwise. Not once in history has there been a Descendant without something special about them. I refuse to believe you're a Simp." Lisa said, shaking her spoon at me like I was a kid before returning to stirring her coffee.

I pouted and went back to sulking. Lisa didn't understand. She'd been able to read people's auras since she was five. She got Tested right on her eighteenth birthday along with all of the other normal Descendants.

Me on the other hand…I'm not special. I've never been special. I'm a Simp.

Though what Lisa said kind of made sense. Never, so far in history, has a Descendant ever not been special. But of course, Descendants have only been around for about a hundred and fifty years. There's always room for someone new.

I just hoped I wasn't that one person. How embarrassing would that be? I mean, I was already generally excluded from Descendant society since I can't do anything. But coming out and saying my brain was legitimately deficient would really be a kick in the pants.

Descendants are like the epitome of high society anyway. They're scientifically smarter and psychologically stronger than a Simpleton—or a normal person.

Around the year 2010, there was this scientist named Adonis Maplewood. Adonis performed on ten people with the same surgery—something he called the Cranium Mentalis Surgery. In Layman's terms, he just went in, tweaked one or two things in the human brain and made a bunch of super people.

These people (we call them Generation New—or GN for short) aced every test that was thrown at them with extreme ease and had IQ's that went almost off the charts.

But Adonis wasn't done with them yet.

As they reproduced, their children came out beyond expectations.

They became psychic. They were not only smarter than the average kid, but they had certain "powers" too. One kid was reported to move an object from one end of the room to another with the wave of his hand. Another kid could selectively read someone's mind.

It was all different based on the kid. Years later, scientists declared it was based on the child's personality for whatever power they had.

The kids grew up and reproduced, making even more super babies. People called them the Descendants.

Well, not everyone was happy about this. After GN's operations and the results, the government decided that it wouldn't do to have a super smart world population, so they suspended anyone from performing Cranium Mentalis—or else suffer extreme punishment.

Of course other countries were furious and World War III nearly broke out. About five years of extreme global tension went by (yeah, I remember all this from history class) before a Descendant,—and also the future new president—Bonnie Whitman, came up and was able to persuade the other countries to chill out.

She used a lot of scientific logic on why there shouldn't be any more super people created and the tension went away. She was elected president the next year and she did a ton of stuff to help improve the environment and yadda yadda. Her holiday is on August 24th.

So, there are still Descendants out there. About fifty years ago, the government also decided that, in order to keep tabs on everyone's power so that a natural dictator couldn't take over or something, each kid should be Tested around their eighteenth birthday.

The Test is essentially a harmless machine that reads your brainwaves to determine exactly what it is you as a Descendant can do. And then it stores the information in a database.

Neat, huh?

Well sorta, kinda, not really.

I refuse to take the Test because, even though I'm a Descendant, I can't do anything.

I can't read minds.

I can't do telepathy.

I can't read auras like Lisa.

I'm mentally disabled.

But my mother and Lisa refuse to let go of this idea that there's this slim chance that I am special and that I should get Tested.

It's just a waste of time. I'm nineteen and not once have I been able to do anything remarkable.

"You're doing it again." Lisa scolded.

"Am not."

"Yes you are. You're being a teenager."

"I am a teenager. At least for another year." I said.

"But you're acting like a thirteen year old. Nineteen year olds don't pout." Lisa said.

"Yes, mother."

"I'm serious, Kay. Get the Test done. You'll see. I'm right and you're wrong. You are special."

"Weird," I said as I scooted my chair back, "You really did just sound like my mother. You sure you don't shape shift?"

"Have your laugh. I better see a vaguely blue aura tomorrow or else I'll go crazy." Lisa said as I stood up.

"Is black vaguely related to blue?" I asked. She frowned at me. "Okay, I'll try. See you tomorrow."

I hadn't planned on my lunch date with Lisa to turn out like this. We rarely got to see each other nowadays. We were both juggling school and work and Lisa went the extra mile to include a boyfriend. She could multitask though, so it worked for her.

So we decided that whenever our schedules allowed, we'd at least have lunch together to catch up.

Had Lisa not bothered me with her psychologist mind, I probably wouldn't feel as crappy. This morning before I went off to school, my mom stopped me and had basically the same talk with me. She wanted me to get Tested.

My mom was a Simp. She didn't understand. She also wouldn't accept the possibility that maybe her Simp blood in my veins counteracted my father's Descendant blood. She just wouldn't. If I even began to start that thought, she'd automatically tune me out or change the subject.

So, with my mood starting at bad and gradually getting worse, I made my way to Meadowlark Day Care Center where I was taking the afternoon shift.

Meadowlark was my sanctuary. I loved it there. The children, although a handful, were a breath of fresh air compared to college. I loved the kids because, unlike grown Descendants, they don't judge you. They don't care if you can't perform any psychic magic or anything. All they want is to play hand clapping games, sing songs and color all over my skin.

It's fun, it's what I love and I get paid for it. Life doesn't get any better than that.

And I know I shouldn't play favorites there, but I have a best friend at Meadowlark. She stands no taller than my knee and she has long curly blonde hair and wide blue eyes and the sweetest smile. She's two and her name is Juniper. My Junebug.

She always greets me with a grin and a squeal of pleasure and a hug. Junebug makes my day complete. She was the reason I got up in the morning. We depended on each other. I helped her with the issues she'd been having with her older brother and she helped me with my own self confidence.

Getting out of my car after I parked at Meadowlark, I took a deep breath and prepared myself to be cheerful for the children.

The first thing I noticed though as I stood by my car was one I'd only seen once before and one that I'd hoped I'd never see again.

My heart sank in my chest.

Angus was back.