Shifting Fate

1: New Day, New School

Anyra

I hear the sound of the school bell ringing inside the squat, white building in front of my idling car. I stare at the students bunching inside the double doors with bags in tow, all of them chattering about one thing or another.

I grimace, my knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. My stomach knots at the agonizing thought of another new day at another new school. Today, I have the curse of being the ‘new girl.’

I sigh with dread, wishing my mom would call and bale me out of walking inside those prison-like walls and communing with people my own age.

I miss Seattle now more than I thought I would. I miss the towering buildings and the gorgeous skyline. I miss being able to walk barely a block and reach my favorite coffee shop and bagel joint.

But Seattle, as my mom put it, had too many people, and people were the problem. In a crowded place like Seattle, there was no place safe enough where there weren’t eyes watching.

I felt the ‘others’ the day my mom forced us to pack up and leave. I was surprised by the feeling, unsure of what to do with it. When I told my mom, her face went as white as sheet-rock, and that was when my life changed….again.

I shiver when I think about what might have happened if they had found me. What would I have done? What would they have done?

No. Not today. Today, I am Anyra Alden, a high school senior, seventeen years old, and…well…not normal.

The bell stops its incessant ringing, and the last of the students trail inside, lockers clanging shut and doors closing.

Late on the first day. Nice.

I sigh again and shut off my Sonata. She purrs to a quiet stop, and my music dies as I open the door, letting the warm April day hit my skin. I step out, shut the door, lock it with the key fob, and sling my bag over my shoulder.

A little over a month left of school, and I’m already dreading this place. I had begged, and I mean begged, my mom to let me stay, let me finish out the school year for once, but she shook her head angrily, telling me that if I wanted to stay alive, I would leave with her.

I agreed as I, in fact, did want to stay alive. More than that, though, I wanted to stay free.

I glide through the school’s glistening green lawn and read the large sign out front. ‘Step Falls High School. Stepping our way into the future.’ Gag.

Groaning, I climb the stairs and enter the building. The hall is empty, except for a stray janitor jamming to some rock music by the sound of his humming.

I stumble past him without him noticing me. I see an office ahead of me where a young woman sits reading a book. When she sees me walk up to the counter, she puts down the book and looks up at me over a pair of glasses.

“Can I help you?” she asks, almost bored.

“I…uh…” I try. I clear my throat. “I’m Anyra Alden. I’m new. I was told to come here to get my schedule.”

“Ah, yes. Alden,” the woman says, glancing at some notes. “You’re late,” she states as if I have no idea what time it is or that time even exists.

“I know,” I say shyly. “I got lost on my way here.” That is mostly true. I had never been here before today, so I had to do some driving, but I generally have a good idea of where I am. Comes with the blood, I suppose.

“I see,” she purses her lips and flips through some folders, pulling out a single sheet of paper with my name on it. “Here we are, Anyra Alden. Homeroom is Mr. Baylee’s Advanced Biology. Room number 210. That’s upstairs on the right. Just follow the signs.”

She hands the paper to me and returns to her book. I think to ask where the stairs are, but decide that is a stupid question and turn around on my heels.

I find the room without too much trouble. The school is relatively small, with an average graduating class of about one hundred. My class in Seattle had easily over a thousand. This will take some getting used to.

I stare at the brown door with a sign above that reads ‘Advanced Biology. Mr. Baylee.’ I sigh, already tired of the raucous noise I hear coming through the thin door.

Students yell over each other, chairs slide against a hard floor, glass wear (presumably for the lab) clinks against each other, and pencils hurry about unfinished homework assignments.

I had detected all this before climbing the stairs, but, at the time, the sounds from this classroom were almost indistinguishable from the others that make up the building.

Now that I’m closer, the sounds are at an irritating volume. My senses have been on high alert since I detected the ‘others,’ and my sensitivity has only worsened as I near my eighteenth birthday.

“Don’t worry,” my mom had told me. “I went through the same thing. In time, you’ll get used to the change.”

That’s easy for her to say. She wasn’t made to go to a human school where she had to hide her true nature from everyone she knew, or else her maniac of a father would find her and strip her of every freedom she ever had.

A groan escapes from my lips.

‘Selene, be with me,’ I pray silently to the Moon Goddess.

Though I am not religious in any sense of the term, I find myself casting silent prayers to the matron of the Moon from time to time, as I often see my mother do.

I rap on the door a few times and wait for a second before the balding Mr. Baylee opens the door. He greets me with a toothy grin, his glasses covering almost half of his face, and opens the door to let me in.

“Anyra, right? Our new student?” He asks me as he shuffles me into the room.

Almost instantly, the students in the class silence themselves and stare at me with awkward curiosity. Many of them are gathered around the room, clustered at the lab tables, while a few others are seated at desks, each long enough to fit two students, lining the center of the room.

I gulp, already sweating, and respond with a wavering voice, “Yes. Anyra Alden. Sorry, I’m late.”

Mr. Baylee waves the apology away as if shooing a fly and says, “No need to apologize, Anyra. I know how hard it can be to find this place if you’re not from here. There is one seat free in the back next to Mr. Tyler. He’ll be your lab partner for the rest of the school year.”

I thank him and move through the clusters of students still eyeing me suspiciously. I get it. New girl from who knows where suddenly thrusting herself into your domain. Anyone would be a little skeptical. Where I come from, territory means everything.

It takes me a while to make it to the back of the room. I spot the free seat in one of the long desks and plant myself in it, not looking at the person next to me as I get out my notebook and pen.

“Hi,” I hear a deep voice say. Flustered, I wipe the hair from my eyes and look at my new lab partner. Suddenly, my world turns white, and the only thing I see is HIM.