A/N: Good Evening readers! I just want to thank you for not only the reviews, but bothering to read an original story! Thank you so very much! :) There's lot of a fun to come for our dear Edith and plenty of things to discover! Also, I would like to share, that I have an official fiction site. Using that as a hub will not only get you the stories faster, but also help support my writing future. Social Hubs have also been established, that'll share little tidbits of fun facts and background stories.

Thanks :)

-JM


Ch 5

We stare at each other for a moment, each processing the situation in our heads. I scan the features of this lanky boy, taking in his physical qualities.

He's tall, very tall – freakishly tall - for a human, at least. His raven hair is swished in all sorts of directions, but soft and untouched by any products.

Tall, short hair, and broad shoulders – this is certainly a young male.

"-You...You're a-" the sentence dies on the boys lips awkwardly. He moves forward suddenly and I almost jump from the unexpected advancement.

"Can I see your dorm assignment papers?" he asks, momentarily gaining confidence. "There's gotta be a mistake here. You're in the boys' dorms."

A little bit speechless - and still recovering from my nap - I wordlessly grab the paper off my bedside table and hand it to him.

The boy scrutinizes the document with squinted eyes. Shaking his head in disbelief, he looks up at me and then down at the paper a few times over.

"This has got to be a clerical error or something," I hear him mumble. He ends his search and hands me back the paper. "Yep. It seems to be right."

A hint of agitation bucks its way into my thoughts. Of course it's right; does he think I'm stupid? This silly human has no comprehension of the things I've seen and learned. How arrogant of him to patronize me.

Oh...my...

These human emotions are vastly more edgy than Kosachei ones. I should probably work to control such hostile thoughts...

By this time, I still haven't said a word. Just as I'm about to open my mouth, he cuts me off.

"Oh -" he says as if there's a realization hitting him. He speaks the next sentence delicately. "Are you one of those... cross dressers? - Not that there's anything wrong with that."

...What?

The skin on my face begins to burn up as the words set in. He thinks I could possibly be a boy?! Maybe this guy should be sent to human training courses.

Apparently - if he can't tell the difference between male and female.

My pride takes a drastic hit, as I wonder if I really do look all that feminine. My nose is, after all, rather long – but I didn't think it would take away from the rest of my petite features!

"I am a girl," I declare crossly, taking up the defensive pose of arms crossed before my torso. "Thank you."

"Well then you need to go," the extremely rude - and frankly, stick like boy - explains. "This is definitely a boys dorm and you're not supposed to be assigned here."

Miffed, I don't feel inclined to show the slightest bit of cooperation. I've never in my life felt so defiant, however, I don't mind having a go at it.

"Well you know what, maybe I don't feel the need to move out of the dorm I've already established myself with," I respond, brows furrowing as the cross dressing comment continues to simmer my ego.

The boy is taken aback, not really expecting to have such difficulty. I would almost find his expression comical if it wasn't for my flaring emotional state.

I take this moment of opportunity to cool down my tone to a more refined style, dropping my arms to my sides and tilting my chin up. "Furthermore, I arrived hours ago. Being the first to settle in, I rather think you should find another dwelling should you not agree with the arrangements."

The boy is undoubtedly dumbfounded. Even I can hardly believe my irrational behavior, but somehow this escalation is thrilling. I find myself less angry with the boy and more awed by this new technique of social interaction.

The boy throws his hands up in agitation and disbelief. "You are a girl," he points at me and then waves his hands around to gesture the room "-in the boys' dormitory."

"I am aware," I say sternly.

Immediately, there is a change in the atmosphere – and it's not in my favor.

The boy's expression changes to that of forfeit. He shakes his head with an annoyed laugh. "Fine. I'll go and request my own room change. You can have it. - But don't expect to get a different reaction from the next guy assigned here."

He turns to storm out of the room and my heart jumps. A thin line has been crossed and my gut is telling me to backtrack.

I dash out after him and hurriedly stride beside him in the hall. It's hard to keep up what with how long his legs must be. People mingle in the hall, paying attention to their own moving efforts. Family's litter the halls, so my presence doesn't stand out.

"Wait, wait -" I attempt, waiving my hands to diffuse the tension. "Maybe we can cohabit peacefully. Let's not add anyone else to the equation."

"Cohabit? What's with your weird sense of vocabulary, crazy girl?" says the boy, shooting a look my way that isn't very welcoming.

A bit of snark still lingers on my tongue. "Oh, I'm a girl now, am I? ..You know, I would have been more accommodating if it wasn't for that remark back there."

The boys face tinges a shade of pink as he fixes his gaze back towards the hall. "Listen, I'm sorry I suggested you were a dude. I was just covering all the bases."

I can't place where this boost of boldness has spawned from, but I take a step in front of him to pause our onward march. I'm not sure what expression my face is showing, but I seem to have his full attention.

"Do I look like a boy?" I ask, with less vigor than I had hoped for. The question sounds less like an accusation and more of a plea for feminine affirmation.

His brows relax and his expression softens, but his body is stiff with an uncomfortable air.

"...N-no," he stutters out, embarrassment radiating outwards . "Not at all... You look very... girly."

A few seconds go by as we stand there in the middle of the hall, passed by the commotion of buzzing students and family members. I can't quiet put my finger on it, but there is something about this moment that makes the both of us feel extremely awkward. Now each of us are sporting pink cheeks.

"It's just - that some of them are really convincing these days." he blurts out. I can feel the deadpan look form upon my face and quickly step beside him to continue walking.

"Please reconsider. This school is so very stringent, and you're already in the equation." I say, trying to recover from the unsettling atmosphere. "The more people involved, the more difficult it will be to settle this."

"I can't live with a girl in my dorm," he states flatly, without further explanation.

"Why not?" I asked, perplexed. "Have you not lived among a female before?" With the look of embarrassed astonishment on his face, I would guess not.

"Is it not natural for males and females to share living space?" I go on, wondering if I had somehow got something wrong in my studies.

"Will you just – stop talking like that?" he says in a more high pitched tone than before. "You're being weird."

I look down at my feet, feeling the skin of my ears heat up. I feel like I've been properly scorned.

What is the problem with answering a few simple questions? Interaction with Mr. Gallway was not nearly this difficult. It must be the age group of this male.

"Look," he says, turning the corner as I follow his lead. He presses the elevator button and stares at the steal doors. "I won't mention the reason I need a transfer. I'll just request a new dorm. They probably won't even fill my spot. There's bound to be open dorms."

Luckily the elevator files out as we get on. He hits the floor designated for administration.

"The likelihood of open spots in a prestigious school such as this one is highly unlikely. Please, don't cause any issue. We can compromise."

"I don't want to live with a girl." he says with conviction.

With that, the conversation is ceased, as the elevator doors open. I follow after him into lobby with multiple administration stations.

He walks up to a counter with a young - student age - particularity bored looking woman behind it. She twirls her cherry hair, texting on her phone with an earbud playing music into her left ear.

"What is your cause of visit today?" she flatly recites the scripted material without bothering to glance up at him.

This is good, I let myself think. She's completely uninterested and distracted. Perhaps she won't delve into the details.

I can sense the boy's agitation levels rising from the lack of attention. He clears his throat to get her to establish eye contact.

"I need to transfer to a new dorm room," he states, curtly. "My name is Louie Kolederr. Freshman. I'm in dorm 20-55."

As I stand next to him, my anxiety intensifies. If they find out I've been assigned to live in a dorm I cannot by policy, it may throw a few wrenches in my education. I can't have any bumps in my progression – especially this early in my transfer.

"And why is it that you need transfer, Mr. Kolederr?" she replies without enthusiasm.

Louie's brows fight not to furrow with annoyance. "The new dorm-mate and I have...irreconcilable differences."

The cherry head rolls her eyes and begins typing into her desk computer. Presumably to check the status of the dorm inhabitants. My heart rate speeds up.

"Your dorm-mate is Ryan, E?" she mumbles lethargically for confirmation. Her eyes flicker slowly up to meet his.

There is a tick of momentary hesitance before he nods strongly. "Yeah, that's correct. So when's the soonest I can transfer?"

The clerk goes back to her computer screen and continues to type for a few more seconds before she turns back to Louie.

"We are at capacity for living quarters. I can put you on a waiting list and when another person is queued to transfer, we can begin the process. But this can take a few months, if at all."

This is not the answer he was looking for, but his body language is keeping his his disappointment toned down for the sake of my situation.

"Ah, I see." he says, disengaging himself for a moment, preparing to conversationally drop another sentence. He turns away and lessens his looks of interest. I stand there in silence, observing the action with bated breath.

"Hey, I was just wondering -" he says, with a casual tone, leaning his body weight into the counter. I can almost hear the internal groan from the girl behind the desk. "If someone would happen to get assigned a dorm-mate of the opposite sex accidentally, what would happen?"

My eyes go buggy and I immediately glance away as to not draw attention. What is this imbecile doing? I shove my foot into his, and sense the tension his form makes.

The girl quirks and eyebrow at him and leans forward. "The school maintains its quota of full capacity at the beginning of the year. They would be taken immediately out of the curriculum, as on premise co-ed living is against school policy... Are you saying your dorm-mate is a girl?"

There is a spark of hope in Louie's eyes that drive the pin of certainty home in me. He's considering ratting me out for the sake of his comfort zone.

If I am to be suspended, for whatever the cause, I'd be taking a huge hit in my directive. My commanding officers will not accept hiccups. Each mission is not only a huge financial endeavor, but a time sensitive initiative that requires the cogs to work perfectly.

Oh god, I'm beginning to panic!

As the milliseconds tick by, I feel the need to interfere grow. I shouldn't do what I'm about to do, but it may be the only chance to side step this backlash.

From behind the counter, I reach to grab the boy's hand – praying to my lucky stars that despite his human biology and miniscule telepathic senses, that he'll get the wave of urgency I'm sending to him.

Our hands meet and I feel the tinge of my nerves dancing in an array of electric pulses. The telepathic energy runs through me, and for a moment I'm intoxicated by the sensation of feeling it for the first time in this body.

Though I cannot feel the received message, the passage of my wavelengths are certainly flowing through me. The pull of energy feels beautifully sweet on a virgin neural channel.

Immediately, he flinches, pulling away his hand with a shocked look on his face. The pull breaks, leaving me to recoil the residual energy. The girl behind the counter furrows her brows with a quizzical twitch of her head.

The boy coughs, regaining his demeanor, laughing awkwardly. "Bug bite," he explains. "Yeah, just go ahead and put me on that waiting list."

Abruptly he turns back to enter the elevator, glancing only momentarily at my dazed state. I try to convey my thankfulness through my eyes, but I'm not sure he's caught it.

I let him go along his way, letting myself recover from the haze of using telepathy for the first time. Slowly, I make my way to one of the couches placed in the administration lobby, and slouch into its cushions.

That was intense...

Using an empathic connection in this body feels foreign and odd. I shouldn't be surprised, seeing as it's merely a genetical hybrid.

Generating empathic energy, let alone connecting to humans is bound to feel different. It's not like humans have actually evolved enough to use such senses.

Still.

If I didn't know any better, I could swear I felt the sensation of confusion and shock being radiated back to me...

My subconscious must be reaching for a semblance contact.

I sigh heavily, closing my eyes before I get back up. Though wonderful using my sense was, the after stillness is fleeting.

I mustn't brood. After all, I've gained much through little sacrifice. I decide it's time to unpack my things and begin to establish myself.

And thank the boy Louie, who has given me some time to sort this situation out.