"Where is it? Oh my God, I am so sure I put it in this pocket!"
Minerva twisted and turned, inserting prying hands into every pocket of her clothing. The new student welcoming committee stood by and waited patiently, tentative looks on their faces. The lead welcomer had an amused grin plastered on her face. She was wearing the traditional Molecule Academy uniform, a crisp white school shirt with a black, pleated skirt with an orange hem at the bottom. Black socks, also hemmed with orange, rose tightly up to her gently toned calves. A pastel orange sweater with the school's coat of arms on the breast was wrapped around her neck, the woolen sleeves limply drooped across her chest. A name tag with "Catherine" written in perfect cursive was pinned to her breast pocket.
But the strangest thing that struck Minerva upon first meeting her, and still unsettled her now, was Catherine's hair. Atop her head, a huge mass of white dropped in neat straight lines down her neck, cut off in a fringe at the base of her neck in astonishing precision. Catherine's perfectly straightened snow-white hair seemed to catch the light around her, like a barely noticeable halo.
Minerva's hand closed tightly around her lost object. With a triumphant grin, she pulled out a rectangle of creased paper, the Molecule Academy coat of arms emblazoned across the front.
"Here you go. My admission letter."
One of the members stepped forward and plucked the letter out her hands. He unfolded the letter and studied it silently, his brows furrowed. "Virgil" was written on his nametag in spaced out block letters. Jet-black strands of his hair obstinately fell in front of his face, forcing him to blow it away with frustrated breaths. Rimless glasses balanced on his nose, and Minerva noted with surprise that a translucent ring was on his pinkie finger. She did not think that jewelry would be allowed at this sort of school unless it served some sort of purpose.
He nodded and passed the letter to Catherine. "It's legitimate. The tests say she should be placed in M.M.G.N house. She seems to have an affinity for non-metals and metalloids."
Catherine beamed with joy. She seemed to be too expressive for this sort of job, Minerva noted. She must really be academically sound.
"Great! That's my house as well, so I'll be able to check up on you much more often. Don't be nervous, by the way. I know its an alien experience, but you'll get used to the craziness. Won't she, Virgil?"
Virgil made no attempt at conversation but nodded, his attention squarely focused on checking off her name against a clipboard. Catherine rolled her eyes with exaggeration and reached out for Minerva's suitcase. "Come on, Minerva. Let's get you sorted at the house. Feel free to ask me any questions along the way."
Minerva clutched her schoolbag tightly and followed. "Thanks, Catherine. I have like, a few thousand."
"I know the feeling, sister."
They set off down the carefully paved brick path, past the main gate. Catherine spoke first, which was of no surprise to Minerva.
"About fifteen new students are coming today, so don't feel left out. You're here quite early. Most of the students come much later in the summer, about a week or two before the term actually starts. You must have been pretty bored to enroll at this time, huh?"
Minerva jolted at her memories of her home before she got to the school. "Y-Yeah. Pretty bored." She stuttered, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice.
Catherine smiled and nodded, getting the message. "You broke a lot of stuff didn't you?"
"Excuse me?"
"When you manifested. Was it just property, or..."
Minerva's voice got soft. "I might have accidentally given my mom a glass hand. Accidentally."
Catherine started to laugh but quickly stifled her outburst when she saw her face. "Is she okay now?"
"Yeah, they got someone to change it back, but she's still at the hospital. They want to make sure nothing's still... you know... glass-ified."
"So that's why you're here early. Is she mad at you?"
"No. She just wants me to have control over it so I don't change someone who will."
"Don't worry about that. Compared to most students here, your manifest isn't half as dangerous. Remember Virgil?"
"The scary cute guy with the ring? Yeah."
He's got an affinity for Chalcogens. He's in the boy's section of our house. When he manifested he almost suffocated his pet dog to death."
"Seriously?"
"Yep. You won't find him playing around with molecule control. He's one of the serious ones."
"Awwww. And he was so cute."
"I know right? Between the two of us, I might have had a crush on him."
Minerva gave a mock-suspicious look. "Might have?"
Catherine blushed, then the two burst into laughter. Minerva liked her immediately. She was blunt and straightforward, but in a bubbly and cheerful way, never afraid to be optimistic about a situation. Before she knew it, they had arrived at her dorm room.
"Surprisingly enough, you've been assigned to my room as well. Usually, members of the student council get single rooms, but I don't mind sharing. It can get pretty boring in her when there's no one to talk to." Minerva looked around the room. It was painted in white, orange and black themes, with a whole wall of bookshelves at a far end, with two beds pushed up against it. The adjacent walls were plastered with posters of different jazz and alternative artists, the most surprising one a poster of tyler the creator's new album IGOR. A side door led to the bathroom, the tile and wood furnished interior gleaming. It had been recently cleaned.
Catherine plopped down on her neatly made bed and patted the bed beside her. "You were our last one for today, so I've got ample time to fill you in on the rules. We'll start with the rules of this room. Minerva sat down on the bed beside her and let her schoolbag slip off her arm onto the freshly made sheets. "What are the rules?" She asked.
Firstly, the lights go off at nine on the dot. If you still need light, feel free to use a flashlight, or your phone. I love my beauty sleep, as you can see." She took a mock pose, cupping her face in her hands. Minerva laughed. Secondly, the lights come on at seven in the morning, and not any earlier. Third, clean up after yourself. I can tell you're pretty organized, but your fumbling for your letter earlier tells me you can be a bit flustered at times, and likely to lose your bearings. Am I right?
She nodded. "Yeah, at times I can get a bit clutter-brained. But I promise not to let that affect the room."
"Thank you. Last but not least, don't be stuck up. I need a roommate that's not afraid to get down and dirty. If you've got a problem, I expect you to tell me, not gossip about it."
"I would never do that."
"I trust you."
Minerva took out her smartphone and laid it on her bedside drawer. "Now that we've covered room rules. What about the rules of the school? I'm sure there would be some hard-enforced rules in a school with people as dangerous as us."
Catherine giggled and kicked off her shoes. "Oh yeah, baby. Rules, we got lots of those."
"Fill me in."
"All right. You'll still get them read out to you during the orientation assembly, but I guess it wouldn't hurt to know them now. The first rule is the most important; you can only control molecules in designated places. These are the classrooms when your teacher allows it, your dorm rooms, the molecule control practice rooms and practice fields, and during competitions. Don't control anywhere else or you'll get in trouble."
"That makes sense."
"The second rule; attend classes. The teachers are required to keep attendance, so make sure you are present during the first five minutes of the class, or even if you show up after you'll be marked late. You also get weekly tests in all your subjects, so don't get carried away by the molecule control. You still have to excel in your academics."
"I get it."
"Third rule; the school doesn't tolerate using molecule control for malicious purposes. Don't use it to get back at a bully or to play a prank." Catherine moved closer, a mischevious smile on her face. "Off the record, don't expect the majority of the students to follow these rules. In my opinion, sometimes all you need is a well-placed burst of air under someone's seat to stop them from picking on you. Of course, seeing as I'm student council president, I never told you that."
Minerva burst into laughter."You're crazy, girl."