Ryan:

The morning light began to bombard my eye lids as I struggled to get a little more sleep. I wanted at least a few more minutes of good sleep before I had to get up, but the sun wasn't making sleeping remotely possible for me.

            Too early, I thought with a grunt of fake pain as the rays of sun beat down on my face, burning me. If this was what a vampire felt like in the morning, then I hated it. Yet I lived it every day. And it sucked every day.

            Before I knew it, I heard a few soft knocks on my door. Following that was a high pitch, yet masculine by nature however the voice did have a lisp. I knew who it was anyway, I could recognize that voice from ten miles away and it never failed to catch me by surprise. I groaned in my mind.

            "Ryan, sweetie!" Nicholas's voice cooed from the other side of my door in his usual sweet and gentle tone when he talked to me. "Do I have to wake you up again?"

            I sighed and rolled my eyes, trying to cover them from the sunlight that melted me like the wicked witch of the west. That was Nicholas, he was a male Flamedramon who had a serious crush on me. I know what you're thinking anyway, yes, I'll answer that question for you. He is gay, clearly, and he never made it unnoticeable. He wore tight clothes that he was able to get from the women's section of shopping stores like Belk and Hollister. He was usually the first one you notice out of a group of guys, he was fit but thin as a twig but was leanly built to match that of a teenage girl his age (which was 14, and yes, strangely he did have a bit of curve action going on there) and talked in his regular girly voice that was kinda hard to tell if you didn't know him up front.

            I had no idea what he saw in me, I knew I was stronger than he was (clearly, since he was a toothpick with toothpick muscles that could only support himself and someone else his weight) and I was taller, and older to boot. Only by a year though, but I was the eldest where I lived.

            Oh, didn't even say where I lived, did I? It's no place where anyone wants to go, just an orphanage. You'd probably think I'd groan and sigh and be depressed about living at one because I was one--an orphan. Actually, I didn't mind it at all. Okay, yes I was sad that both my parents were dead (clearly, because I cried for fourteen years after their deaths and I have the stains on my pillow to prove it) and I was down that I lived in an orphanage with others who were just like me--they had lost their parents to house fires, shootings, disease related death, or maybe even the war (which I will explain soon)--and I had been here for a good ten years. No one picked me to adopt, maybe I just wasn't good for anyone but I was well respected in the community since I was the only one here who volunteered for extra service like cleaning up litter, re-painting fire hydrants, washing cars, reading at nurseries, et cetera.

            But I was never picked because of it.

            It was fine with me, I had cried a lot in the past ten years and I wanted to stop, it wasn't helping me besides putting me into a deep and maybe everlasting depression. I just...put my sad thoughts in the back of my mind and focused on the present as it was, crying wasn't gonna get me far. And I had to stay strong.

            "Ryan, dear!" Nicholas warned in his usual girly tone. "Don't make me come in there and wake you up!"

            I felt my body go still. Oy, not that again. The last time I refused to wake up, he broke my door open (not really break but unlocked it with a claw of his) and jumped onto me, pinning my arms onto the bed, trying to act like a dominate figure. I could've jumped flipped him over, but I pretended to act weak since I was still trying to wake. He blushed and got close to my face, making me flush as well.

            "Okay, okay," I sarcastically said to him. "I'm up, I'm up."

            He just smirked and giggled. "Good! But before I get off..." Right after he had said that, he planted a kiss on my lips then got off me, giving me a wave as he exited my room slowly.

            And that was only yesterday.

            I wasn't really in the mood for a surprise kiss again, it was way too early for one of those. I checked my clock, yeah 6:50 was way too early to be kissed, even by a cute Flamedramon like Nicholas it was still too early. I sighed then gave three knocks on my nightstand, telling Nicholas I was getting up. I heard him pad away just as soon as I sat up in my bed and stretched my arms. I had a little sore spot on my left bicep but I still got up nonetheless.

            I took a quick glance at my calendar, that was the reason he woke me up so early. It was August 7^th, the first day of high school for me. The first day of school period, and I knew for a fact that Nicholas wasn't going to let me sleep in for another minute since it was the first day.

            With another sigh, I jumped off my bed and made my way to my dresser. I quickly changed into my regular clothes, just a pair of dark jeans, casual shoes, a white jacket with my sleeves pulled up, and a dark blue T-shirt that had the name "Garurumon" on the front in white spikey letters. I quickly looked in my bathroom mirror and combed my long dirty blonde hair, which really needed to be cut--only way to keep it down was to use a silver clamp which made it into a ponytail and also put a few strands of hair in my face. My slightly tanned skin was nearly perfect, aside from the two moles on my arms, and the mole on my cheek.

I looked into the mirror again, my golden yellow eyes were always the first thing I was before I noticed anything. My father had the exact same eyes, so bright gold that they could light up a room. Sometimes I felt like Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer just because of the eyes. Would Ryan the Golden-Eyed Freak have that same ring to it? Pfft, like the heck I knew. I used to be bullied and picked on because of my eyes but soon my classmates and schoolmates grew to like them just because they were unlike they had ever seen before.

They were different; I was different.

I guess I was unique that way, if that was even a word to describe me. I felt good to have them, they reminded me of my...father's. I sighed. I shifted my gaze to the bright silver locket on my night stand then walked over and picked it up. I clicked the button on top, which opened it and revealed a small picture of my mom, dad, and I. I was only five when this picture was taken and it still brought back painful memories that I kept deep down in the pit of my heart.

I must've looked at this thing a million times, because I could remember every detail. I looked at my father, he looked strong and regal. Maybe regal was a little much, how about handsome instead? He was a Garurumon in his early twenties, golden yellow eyes that I got from him, and his werewolfish face looked scary since he had a scar under his left eye. In reality, if you knew him, he was very nice and sincere. He wore a blue dress uniform, since he was in the Marine Corps, with a dark blue coat with a red trim--all his medals and awards were on his left side of his chest. He had on a white barracks cover, white gloves, and regular blue ironed pants. He had that look in his face in the picture that told me he meant business, but he cared about me more than anything else in the world. He taught me how to defend myself if I ever needed to, thankfully I never needed to but he always said 'Always expect the unexpected' and I took heed to those words. Whenever I was near him I was he would rant on and on in front of friends and family about me. In the picture, he had his paw on my shoulder, I touched it and closed my eyes, another painful memory. He was American born and traveled around the world since he was in the Global Military Allied Forces (G.M.A.F for short) and that's how he met my mother.

My mother...she was the most beautiful person ever, in my opinion. (I don't care if Shakira's hips don't lie, or that J.Lo can get on the floor, my mom was damn beautiful!) She had the same slightly tanned skin I had and had gorgeous ocean blue eyes that were so clear and so calming. She was a foot smaller than my father (who was a tall 6'7" Garurumon) and had a gentle smile. I remembered he had on ruby red lipstick that went great with the flowing red dress she wore in the picture. Her long dirty blonde hair curled past her shoulders, at least I get her skin and hair. She taught me Italian and Latin, which went well with my American English--giving me a weird but kinda cool accent. She was also in the G.M.A.F, but was stationed in Italy--her home country and yes that meant I was part Italian. My father traveled there and met her, lucky him and his chance of luck. She was always nice and smart and caring, but she was also strong-willed and tough. She told me when I was younger that she took a bullet in the arm and didn't cry a drop. She also said she punched a guy's lights out and my dad vouched for that.

I hoped it wasn't him!

I was in the middle front of them. I was only five at the time, just an innocent child that barely understood the war as a whole. I still kinda had long blonde hair but not a total problem since I had it pulled to the side to reveal my eyes. I seemed to have the same stare as my father, with a slight difference: his was tough and kinda scary (he was a Garurumon with some bug muscles, duh) and I was innocent and unknowing at the time. I was so young I barely understood anything, I had only worn a blue Polo and some khakis and I could see his paw on my shoulder. I recalled all the good memories I had with them. I remembered one time we had taken a long walk through a park nearby the orphanage, they had bought ice cream and we would find a nice secluded area and look up at the stars. Another time, we went to a town fair and, surprisingly, I didn't get abducted or lost, we went on a huge roller coaster, rode into a scary funhouse, and my mom had one a stuffed panda that she gave to my father.

I remembered so many more, but...it hurt to keep remembering. They had both died in the war, killed in action I was told. When I heard that, I was nearly sure my entire world had been destroyed and couldn't be fixed easily. I loved them both, they were all I had and...they were taken from me without warning. I had no one else in my family to talk to. My family revolved around war, both families. Both sets of grandparents fought, they died two years after the war began. My aunts and uncles both fought, it only took four years before they were killed. My mom and dad were the last and longest to live, they lasted seven years. I was alive for five of those years, they never took me with them and usually left me with a friend of the family here in America. But even after they died, the so called 'friend' never took me in or adopted me or anything. I was placed in a celebrity funded orphanage--Fair View's Orphanage for Children. Thankfully, I got my own room, a few decorations, and was never in shortage of clothes or food. It was nice here, but I always felt empty and lonely despite all the friends I had here.

I shook my head and closed my locket shut then placed it around my neck. Later, I thought to myself as I picked up my black one-strap satchel and began to walk out of my room. My head hurt a little, maybe it was from remembering my painful past or something. Oh well, I guess.

I kept my gaze low as I walked down the hallway to the elevator, and yes this orphanage was so fancy it was tall and had elevators. Each child could choose to room it with someone else or room solo. I had always been a solo act, despite Nicholas's constant attempts to room with me.

"Ryan, sweetie! Wait up!" I heard his voice coo from behind me.

Within a few split seconds, he was clutching to my shoulder and smiling. He wore a tight purple shirt with red lips on the front, some girls skinny jeans, and a pair of sandals. A baby blue backpack slung over his back with all his things in there most likely. He had light blue skin, which was perfect down to the last detail--smooth and flawless. I'm sure he would be a (girly) male model when he grew up. His eyes were the colors of rubies, shiny ones with a hint of darker red thrown in.

We walked towards the elevator, I pressed the home floor button and waited for us to go down. The Flamedramon holding onto me kept rubbing the side of his face against my arm and growled in pleasure.

Before you make an assumption, no he was not my boyfriend. That was his goal anyway, to be my boyfriend because he found me "too nice for words", "hunky", "sweet", and "handsome". Don't get me wrong either, Nicholas was a nice and kind guy, he had a gentle heart and fought for his rights and friends--exactly what I would do, but he reminded me of the little brother I never had and I treated him like such. I even nicknamed him my "little brother" just for added measure. He was six months younger than me, and I was the oldest at the orphanage like I said. I had known him for five years, when he was nine his parents got involved in a severe head on collision with an 18-wheeler and...didn't survive. They weren't drunk, the truck driver was and he hit them dead on. Nicholas was at his friend's house at the time. He didn't know until the next day, the rest of his family hated him because he was gay and sent him to this orphanage. It was his parents that loved him even after he came out to them. Now that they were gone, his family pretty much handed him over to Fair View like the child they never wanted or even wanted to have. They made me mad, I wanted to chew them all out if I ever met them and call them out.

I had known him for five years but he still never told me how long he crushed on me or when he found his unbreakable love for me. I let him keep it at that and not talk about it.

We finally got to the bottom floor just to see the rest of the Fair View kid's waiting for their bus, most of them were in elementary school, some were in middle school, but I was the only high school kid here. Another way to feel odd and out of place. Nicholas was one of the only two others going to high school next year. The second was waiting for me at the front doors.

"Ryan, welcome back to the land of the living," Robyn greeted me.

"Very funny, red bird," I replied.

            She smiled. "You're welcome."

            Robyn was the second oldest at the orphanage, whereas Nicholas was third and I was first. She was a tall Renamon and wore tight jeans, a white tank-top with a black splatter mark on the front with a silver outline. She had her purple forearm gloves with the Yin-Yang mark on the top of her paw. Her eyes may have been squinted a little but her iris color was a nice cool light blue. She was well mannered, sometimes kept to herself, and was very smart. She was light hearted and usually stuck by Nicholas in school, they always seemed to have the same classes no matter what and keeping them apart is like having green beans without the beans inside.

            It's just not possible.

            I walked over to her, somehow prying Nicholas from my shoulder, giving all the kids pats on the head before heading for the door. We greeted each other the ride way, with our personal handshake. We grabbed each other's forearms then pulled each other close to each other's face, pulled away then slapped a high five then a low five.

            "Nice," she smiled. "Good to know you're not too dazed to remember how to shake my paw."

            I rolled my eyes and smiled. "I'm never dazed."

            "Ryan..." she looked me in the eyes.

            I sighed. "Okay, that one time!"

            She giggled and covered his mouth. Sometimes I wondered whether she was just joking with me 80 percent of the time or it wasn't even intentional and just happened. Oy. I heard the sound of a screeching engine pulling up, soon I realized it was my bus once I saw the name printed on the side: Luther County Transportation. I knew it was high school because someone had spray painted high school on the side of the stop sign on the side of the bus. I looked at Robyn.

            "Fino a quando torno," I said to her in my Italian. (Until I come back.)

            She just smiled and patted my shoulder. "Buona fortuna," she replied to me. (Good luck.) Only my close friends, like she and Nicholas, would talk to me in one of my three languages once I spoke it to them.

            I quickly exited, getting out there quickly before Nicholas took hold of my arm again and followed me to school. The bus door opened and I walked inside, giving the lady driver a quiet greeting before moving to find a seat all the way in the back. That wasn't hard anyway, it was only 7:10 but it took half an hour to get to school. You miss the bus and you're as good as screwed, unless you run like a Kenyan. There were only three other students on board, two were talking with each other and the other was fast asleep, snorting like a horse.

            I shrugged and made my way to the back, taking my seat and moving over to lay against the window. I took a look outside, it was fairly nice outside and there were large puffy, white clouds all over the sky that blocked out the sun. The temperature wasn't that hot, maybe around...71 degrees? I don't know. These were the days I liked, the winter was better since I could concentrate better. Sure, it was cold but I liked it and it gave me the power to think better.

            I looked at the sleeping guy close to the front, he looked to have the right idea. I could use a bit more sleep until I got to school. It would at least get me through the rest of the day without a problem.

            I laid my face against vibrating window and closed my eyes.

THUMP!

            I jumped to wake up and nearly banged my head against the roof of the bus. I took my seat again, we must've hit a huge pot hole or something. I rubbed my eyes and yawned, looking at my surroundings. My ears were greeted with the sound of dozens of teenagers chatting with each other with the loud hum of the bus's engine mixed into the sound. However, that wasn't the only thing I realized, I was also surrounded by students, two sat on my left, three in the seat in front of me, three to the seat left of mine and then the rest of the seats around me were filled.

            It didn't surprise me however, these guys were my friends. I had a ton of friends, believe it or not, I had both the basketball team and cheerleading squad to back me up anytime I needed them...which was rare. Already, forty guys and girls ready to fight for me and my protection. They never gave me a moment alone however, I was usually surrounded by them all the time. I always had a class with about five of them or more, never less than that. If someone picked on me, I would always have one or all of them to back me up.

            To my left sat the captain of the basketball team. His name was Travis Mclean. He reminded me of an elf, white, thin, and had curly blonde hair. He wore khaki shorts and a loose fitting T-shirt with some running shoes. I had known him for...eight years I think, just after first grade. He was a huge Harlem Globe Trotters fan and wanted to play in the big leagues like them, problem with him was the fact that whenever he talked he wouldn't stop unless someone else butted in or had a roll of duct tape handy. Thankfully, that's one thing I always had with me, just in case he went on a rant, if he did he would say 'ya' like it was the best word in the world.

            Next to him was co-captain of the cheerleaders, her name was Melissa Weave. She had curly almond hair, green eyes, and was lightly tanned. She wore tight skinny jeans and a white blouse with some high heels. She was the personal girl to shut up Travis whenever he wouldn't quiet down. I prayed he didn't have any coffee this morning or else shutting him up was going to be harder than duct tape could handle. I might need monster glue.

            They noticed I had woken up and smiled, but it was Travis who spoke first. Typical Travis of course.

            "Yo, Ryan!" He smiled and wrapped and arm around my neck, holding me in a chokehold. "Ah, man, it's so good to see ya again! You've been quiet for these past few weeks, not letting anyone call ya I see! Missed talkin' to ya, like, where have ya been? Don't tell me ya've been sleepin' on us, have ya? Dude, talk ta' me! I need some details, ya? Come on, t--," he was cut off by the time Melissa cupped a hand over his mouth.

            She groaned. "If I have to hear 'ya' one more time, Travis, I'm gonna knock you into the next year. He can't talk because you're choking him to death!" She grabbed his arm and pulled it off my neck, having me talk a huge gasp of air that I quickly gulped down and panted.

            Oh, sweet Melissa, here to save my day and life as usual.

            I coughed. "Ugh...thanks...Mel..." I croaked.

            She finally un-cupped Travis's mouth and sighed. "Go easy on the boy, Travis. You're smothering him again."

            He apologized quickly and went on another rant about how sorry he was and told me that he did have coffee this morning. I felt like I wanted to make him barf up all that caffeine, the man was already as hyper as Sonic the Hedgehog and I'm sure his teachers would flip a table after hearing one of his speeches.

            Once I had enough air to talk again, I smiled and did the exact same thing to Travis that he had done to me, wrapping my arm around his neck but giving him a noggie instead. He writhed in my grasp and called for uncle, twice, before I finally let go. He fixed his hair and we called a truce, for the time.

            I finally managed a smiled before another guy turned around in his seat to talk to me. Finally, it was him. Alexander Quintus George, another one of my all-time close friends. He was dressed formally, a white button up shirt with a grey sweater (WTF man, it's still warm!), brown khakis and dress shoes. He had shaggy brown hair and blue eyes. He was the guy you go to for advice, heck, he told me he wanted to be a therapist when he graduated college! But I always went to him when I needed advice or help. I trusted him with my bi secret and he was so mellow and cool about it.

            Was I glad to see him? Yes.

            "Ah, glad to see you're up and about, Ryan," he greeted with a bright white smile, his perfect teeth made me envious. "Sleeping on the bus again? Tsk, tsk. You're lucky one of us didn't steal your summer homework to copy, or did you forget to do that?"

            I shook my head. "I finished it a few days into summer, then I worked my tail off at the auto-shop."

            He nodded and smiled again. "Well, at  least you got some spending money, try not to waste it this time."

            I chuckled and rolled my eyes. "Just bought a few clothes, nothing more."

            "Good, better than what Travis brought most likely," he shifted his gaze over to Travis and frowned a little. "New shoes and a game system? Really?"

            Travis just held up his hands, like he was surrendering to the police or something. He gave Alexander a bright smile of his own but it was no match for Alexander's, for he had that look that Travis didn't.

            "Can't blame a guy who had an entire summer to kill!" he laughed back.

            Alexander tilted his head. "You could've practiced with your hoops."

            All Travis did was stick his tongue out at Alex and fold his arms. They exchanged some glares at each other, not of anger or frustration, it was just their usual greeting. It was like a staring competition. With another loud THUMP of the bus as it must've hit another pot hole, Travis hit his head against the back of his seat and blinked. I saw Alexander smile brightly again.

            "I win."

            "Ugh, you suck."

            Without warning, the bus slammed to a stop, making Alexander fall back into his seat with his legs in the air. We slowed to a screeching halt and stopped. I heard a voice sound loud at the front.

            "Welcome to Luther County High School--home of the Panthers!" the voice, I was guessing was the bus driver, blared at the front. She must've went here in her youth, for she sounded proud of the name and had a genuine smile to go along with it.

            She opened the door of the bus, the students sitting down quickly filing out and running up to the school. I followed my friends out and stepped onto the hard concrete, looking up at the school.

            It was located on a hill, and was two levels high with classes on both levels. It was really huge, painted grey with a black trim. It had a huge black parking lot with dozens upon dozens of cars. The interior was even bigger, all sorts of classrooms and extra activities. It wasn't a boarding school or anything, a regular school for regular kids and that included orphans.

            It also had its own soccer field, football field, tennis courts, batting range, and baseball field. It offered those sports and more like Ping-Pong, swimming, et cetera. There were also archery classes that the P.E. teachers taught their first semester, lucky me, I was gonna have to shoot a bow and arrow on my first day. They had art classes, cooking classes, welding classes, a choir class, drama class, you name it they probably had it. They had the land and the best teachers to do all of it with ease.

            We were ranked number 2 in the state, but I don't know if that meant anything...or maybe it did? Like I said, I don't know.

            I grabbed my schedule and looked it over again:

Musical Arts: Jimmy T. Hendrix: Room 512

Physical Education: Cameron Vladmir: Gym Room

Advanced Social Science: Mark Z. Wagner: Room 229

Geometry I: Kimberly J. Fiona: Room 202

            Soo...I had a guy named Jimmy Hendrix for first block. I wondered if he was related to the famous Jimmi Hendrix. I also wondered if he got offended at the question if someone asked. Maybe it irritated him whenever someone asked him, for he could've been asked hundreds of times and it got on his nerves a lot. Okay, I just wouldn't ask him about that.

            Duh, why didn't I just think that first and get it over with?

            I trudged my way quickly up the stairs that led up to the school, trying to get up quickly before the first bell rang, wondering if I was going to have either a nice day of my first day or maybe the worst day.

            In the future, it was a combination of both.

Room 509...510...511...

            I huffed a little, quickly jogging to my first class with Hendrix--just what I called him. I had past dozens of students, freshmen like me, sophomores, juniors, and seniors. They all looked at me like I was a time bomb about to go off, that or a nuclear device that needed to have the red wire carefully cut. The freshmen were my class so they didn't spook me out all that much, only because I knew all of them. However, the upper classmen--seniors, juniors, and sophomores--did kinda freak me out. They looked older, stronger, taller, hotter, and smarter than I was.

            Sure, they were all that but I was still a person. They may have had all those traits but that didn't mean they were better than I was. They may have had the looks and brains but that told me nothing about the person they truly were inside, heck, I was myself all the time and I hid nothing.

            Room 512! I exclaimed in my mind, reaching the room that had a neatly decorated wooden sign that read: Choir Room. It was written into the wood in paint, all curvy and fancy like. It reminded me of a Romeo & Juliet title you could find anywhere--old timey and looked antique.

            I caught my breath and gulped down some air before walking in.

            I looked inside as I walked in. The room was large, had its own stone risers in the back, a wide variety of instruments ranging from keyboard to mixer to drums. I could see a few electric and acoustic guitars placed on their stands, just begging to be played. I eyed the cherry red one with a hint of lust.

            There were two dozen chairs placed on the risers with already a few students sitting in them. I saw a Gabumon, a Gatomon, and four regular humans. Two of them, I knew--out of the four humans. They were girls, I knew them from the cheer squad, and referred to them as the Twins. They were sisters, and shared every aspect of each other aside from their eye colors. They both had pure blonde hair that almost looked white, which were tied into messy buns. They were the same clothes, a red flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of dark jeans that slacked at the ankle, which covered their running shoes easily. They had the same perfect skin and same southern tan, however, only ways to tell them apart were their voices and their eyes. Maria--who was older than her sister by a few seconds--had red eyes while her sister Olivia had jade green eyes.

            Even then, it was near impossible to tell which from which.

            I took a look at the rest of the students. The human guy looked like an early Justin Beiber impersonator, same hair style, same skin, and same look. But he was a little shorter and didn't have quite the same build, for he wore a black sweater (another one, really?) and some baggy jeans with some running shoes. The girl he was sitting next to reminded me of an Asian pop star, her hair was shoulder length short, black as night, and she had brown eyes even with the squint. She had on a simple white blouse and a black skirt with black shoes.

            Both looked at me with curiosity, which kinda freaked me out.

            I had failed to notice the Twins had seen me and ran forward and rammed me with a bone crushing hug that knocked the wind out of me. What was with people and nearly killing me?

            I heard their voices blare in my ear, which made them ring.

            "Ryan! You're--,"

            "--here! We have the same class? Oh my--,"

            "--God! This is too good!"

            They cut each other off as always in mid-sentence, which they seemed to do so well and with perfect accuracy that made me wonder if they practiced this at home or something. Once, I found it annoying and weird, now I just find it kinda funny.

            "Non è possibile ... respirare ..." I choked in Italian, not even intending to switch over to my second language. (Can't...breathe...)

            They released their choke hold on me and gasped, apologizing over and over again. It took a few minutes to get them sorted out and tell them that I was fine (aside from the fact that I had been choked out twice now) and just needed to get to my seat. However, I wasn't finished with introductions apparently.

            "Ryan! You gotta meet these two! C'mon!" Olivia smiled, grabbing my wrist and yanking me to the stone risers.

            The last two students were the Gatomon and Gabumon. The Gabumon almost reminded me of Nicholas, which was freaky. He was very thin, lean, and was the size of a toothpick. He wore a tight rainbow shirt with tight jeans, his head fur was so long that it was braided over his shoulder.

            How could I tell it was a guy? Please, I know these things.

            The Gatomon reminded me of either a goth of emo person. Though her fur was white as snow, she wore black of everything. Black baggy pants, black tank-top with a black leather jacket with the sleeves ripped off, black combat boots, and ever her eyes had a dark shadow under them. She had some muscles going on from what I could see but she still looked like an ordinary teenage girl with her hips and hourglass figure.

            The Twins wanted me to meet them? I was afraid I was gonna get beat to a pulp now; the Gatomon scared me to death and the Gabumon reminded me so much of Nicholas that it wasn't even funny.

            The Gabumon was the first to look at me. Did...did her just giggle and blush at the sight? I felt my own cheeks flush red.

            "Thomas, Jamie," Maria introduced me. "We'd like you to meet Ryan!" She sounded more enthusiastic than I gave her credit for.

            The Gabumon named Thomas smiled and giggled girlishly. Sweet Lord, he was just like Nicholas!

            "Well, hi there, Ryan!" Thomas smiled and held out his paw. "I'm Thomas Rene! It's...very great to meet you!" There was something about that pause I didn't like.

            I shook his paw, still really catching up on my senses, and looked him in the eyes and studied him. I had this special talent to tell if someone was lying or being truthful and sincere. This guy was being sincere all right, and with that smile and blush there was no denying that he had a crush on me.

            Great...just freaking great.

            "Um, its, eh, nice to meet you, Thomas," I replied, trying to sound happy to meet him. I kinda failed, still stunned at how much he looked, acted, and spoke like Nicholas. I looked at the emo/goth Gatomon, a little fear shooting up my spine. "You're...Jamie, right?"

            She nodded and took my hand forcefully, shaking it up and down. I jumped a little, finding her grip very strong and all the more painful. Ow. I guess those muscles she had weren't just for show (and intimidation) since she showed them off very well, scaring me pale white.

            "Yeah, Jamie Arnold," she replied, smiling mischievously at me, which didn't settle my feelings at all. "You're Ryan Masters?" She looked me over and cocked and eye. "You do look pretty handsome, nice pony tail."

            I felt my cheeks flush cherry red. Thomas giggled, covering his mouth as a sort of way of saying Sorry but she's right! I wanted to protest that it was a wolf's tail to be correct, but my words never made themselves known. I was left standing there with an open mouth and a red face.

            Embarrassed on my first day, chalk up another win for my bad luck.

            "Don't worry," Jamie assured. "I'm not gonna kill ya for two reasons: One, Thomas likes you already--,"

            "Hey!" Thomas blushed and slapped her shoulder.

            She rolled her eyes. "And two, you look nice and sincere. I only hurt ones that hurt my friends, including me--trust me, you do not wanna get on my bad side. Only a few things piss me off; I hate bullies, people who hurt my friends, and ballads--God, I hate ballads--like slow songs."

            I held up my hands. "Then, you have nothing to worry about. I'd never think of hurting you, or Thomas."

            She smiled, but I felt no better. "Good, I'm a nice gal if you follow those, I haven't killed anyone other than slap Thomas on the shoulder."

            "Out of love." He rolled his eyes.

            She looked at him and laughed. "Maybe. Thomas is a nice guy, almost too nice that I think he's keeping all the nice in the world inside him."

            If you only knew, I thought but didn't say.

            "He's obviously already crushed on you, and don't even lie Thomas," she said. "I knew you thought he was to die-for the second he walked in. I felt your arm tense up."

            He just looked away and blushed an even darker shade of red.

            "Anyway, you look and sounds nice," she went on, thankfully leaving that subject. "The Twins told me about you, sorry about your--,"

            All the sudden, a different voice butted in unexpectedly. It wasn't the Twins, nor Thomas or Jamie or I. It was a little lower and more masculine, I turned my head to find the only voice that could be a guy's.

            "Parents?" The Justin Beiber impersonator finished. "You're the orphan that goes to this school right? Ryan Destin Masters? Italian-American? Lost his parents to the war going on? Scratch that, lost his family to the war going on, my bad."

            I stood there, looking at Fake-Justin. I felt cold for some reason, my whole body went stiff as I stared into his eyes. He had an impish smile that was so un-Justin Beiber. How the hell did he know so much about me? I've never seen him before today! He was a definitely a new student, I would know since I knew everyone in my grade and this class was mainly for freshmen. He knew so much about me, he really creeped me out and I thought Jamie was already doing that.

            Wait, she was scaring me, this guy was a creeper.

            He knew I was an orphan, something no upper classmen knew, only my grade. And he didn't even go to my school before this year. I wanted to grab him by the collar and interrogate him like thugs would do in the movies where they would do that and pin someone to a wall and ask them for information or money. If I had to fight him, I guess I had no choice.

            "And who're you, Mr. Creeper?" asked Jamie for me.

            He kept his impish smile and flipped his hair to the side. "Names Dustin Hemmers. This right here is Emma Kwan. We went to your rival school."

            I almost laughed. They went to our rival school? (Jackson J. Jennings, or just the Three J's.) I found it funny, they went there and now they changed sides to come to our school system? They were always high and mighty and acted above the rest who couldn't compete with them luckily we beat them last year 41 to 14. It was sad, I guess they wanted to check out our system and see if it was actually better than theirs, which of course it was.

            And his name made me laugh. Dustin was very close to Justin; I hoped his last name wasn't Beaver, otherwise I would bust a gut.

            He went on. "Yeah, you're school is...different, to say the least. I'm still curious to see what else we might find. Just don't think for a minute that welike it here, this is totally recon based stuff."

            He sounded like a five-star general from the way he talked. Recon? Against another school? Okay, that was stupid. Did they not know we had only three lunch blocks (A, B, and C lunches), that we changed coaches every two years to keep out players on their toes, and that we had the best education and teachers money could buy. And this school could buy.

            "Okay, well, you have fun with your 'recon' spy kids," I replied with a laugh.

            They smirked at me and turned away. I heard Jamie stifle a giggle, the Twins were cupping each other's mouths, and Thomas was looking away fake-coughing. It couldn't have been that funny.

            Before the new spy kids could retaliate, someone else walked in. I went wide-eyed and kinda wished I had taken Russian this semester. It was a long Seadramon, he looked old and I had to take a guess that he was our teacher. He had to be at least six meters long, wore a red scarf that somehow stayed tied around his neck,  meaning running out of the room would be next to impossible if we ever got mad or something.

            The Seadramon--I knew as Hendrix--took his seat behind his desk, coiling himself into a spring, then looked us over. I saw a few pieces of paper begin to fly, along with some pens and pencils that hovered around him. He seemed to mutter something but I was a little far off to hear him. I had to guess he was using some sort of special ability that Digimon rarely had, no wonder they hired him. He looked at each of the other students and then wrote something down, my guess he was taking roll call or something to make sure we were here.

            He looked at me, I swore he squinted his dragon-like eyes and smiled. There was something about that look that made me feel weird, I don't know why but he looked at me with a sort of...admiration? Was that pleasure in his eyes? It was like he said You look like a promising lad. I gulped and tried to look away, yet every time I looked at him he seemed to be looking back at me but turned away just as we locked eyes.

            Super creepy.

            Just as he was about to close the door, eight more students ran in, half human, half Digimon. They panted and gasped for air, two of them patted each other's back while the rest said their names and checked in with Hendrix. They took their seats quickly as Hendrix wrote their names down.

            Two sat next to me, an Agumon named Malik and a Dorumon named Finn. They said they were brothers, only that they took after the different parent. Hendrix finally sighed and got up from his desk and walked to the front of the room, which was a wide open space. I saw some more guys come in from the other door, each one took a position and an instrument. One took the drums, two took the guitars, another took the keyboard while another took the piano. A few more took a few more instruments and waited as Hendrix nodded to them and smiled to us.

            "Okay then!" his deep but clear voice spoke over us. "Welcome to your first day of high school, more importantly welcome to my choir room. My name is Jimmi Hendrix, not the same Jimmy Hendrix from back in the day and no, we are not related. I knew someone was going to ask that eventually. Here, we will learn to dance, sing, and play an instrument if you haven't learned to do that already. You will learn music, choreography, and read scales. At the end of the year, I will issue a mandatory exam where you will put together a routine that will have dancing and singing, with another song performed with an instrument."

            We listened as he spoke. I'm sure a lot of people could understand music in here, had some dance ability, and could play an instrument. I knew what scales where, musical scales at least.

            "I know who each and every one of you are, so do not act surprised if I call your name even if you haven't told me," he looked at Dustin Beaver. "Isn't that right, Mr. Beaver?"

            I took a look at Dustin, he sat stiff in his chair. Either this guy was eavesdropping on our conversation or he was really telling the truth that he knew every one of us. I actually wondered how much he knew about us, about me. Dustin knew a lot, I wondered if Mr. Hendrix could match him or put him to shame. But I'm not sure which one scared me more: Hendrix or Beaver.

            "Right then," Hendrix went on. "Now, let's get down to business. It's time for you to perform your first assignment, which was told to you over the summer. Your objective was to learn a certain song, make sure you have all the lyrics memorized, hand the music to my graduates over there and give them the time to learn the rhythm. The second part was to perform the song of your choice in front of the class without fail. Simple, easy, one, two, three." He smiled and looked at us all. "Now, who wants to go first?"

            Everyone gulped, no one raised their hands or said a word. They remained silent and unmoving, their eyes darting to each other. I didn't want to go first either, since no one else volunteered.

            Hendrix sighed. "Very well then, I'll just choose randomly then."

            I'm sure everyone gulped and began to pray. I kept my eyes fixed on the now interesting looking floor. Wow, I didn't even know they kept their floors that glossy clean! Wow, it really sparkled! My tactic was pointless after all, Mr. Hendrix just waved the tip of his tail all around us, squinting an eye like he was about to fire a gun or something.

            He locked his gaze on me and smiled, I felt my body tremble.

            "Mr. Masters! Thank you for volunteering!" he smiled.

            Merda, I thought (Shit.)