Being the oldest yellow level student was concerning. He could either be demoted to blue or accidentally blow up the school.
To make his life more confusing Lewis' best friend was the one and only Armina Stanton. They weren't a typical pair of friends. They were alone together. She'd talk and he'd listen and that's as far as it went.
During one of those walk-and-talks on the way to class, she dumped her biggest secret on Lewis. When Armina arrived at school, her uncle Peter had brought the word of a prophecy with him. Armina was destined to destroy the world or be stopped by a boy "not quite human."
He wanted to be there for her, but Lewis had his own problems. He wasn't aging.
Lewis was a drive-by shooting victim when he was fourteen. His parents died changing a tire on the side of the road. He hadn't seen the van pass and the murderer got away. Lewis was too busy watching the holes in his abdomen bubble up with blood. His vision turned red, then black, and he died.
Hours later, Lewis woke up cold and blind. He banged his fists against the walls. They clanged. Metal.
For once, he wished he was dreaming. His sleep was plagued by nightmares, but none this realistic.
"Help!" Lewis cried, banging his fists against the walls until they were beaten into bruised, bloody lumps. "Get me out of here!"
A light flooded his metal grave, blinding him. Lewis adjusted to the light and peered around, wishing, even more, this was a nightmare. A middle-aged man's body lay in the middle of the room. His chest was open, a pair of tools Lewis didn't recognize resting on his ribs.
The urge to vomit surged through him. The bald boy scrambled off of a shelf and fell to the tile floor. His knee made a harsh popping sound that filled his ears. A burst of pain ran up his leg, making it impossible to hold back the sickness. Lewis doubled over and relieved his stomach out what little contents it had.
"There you go, let it out," a man said, patting Lewis on the back.
Lewis was left a shivering mess, feeling like he had every sickness at once. His body reeled with pain and overwhelmed him. He couldn't comprehend half of the words coming from the man behind him. His unfocused eyes saw a middle-aged man like the one on the table, but much more alive. He had a head full of dark, greasy hair and a grim crease for a mouth.
"Help," groaned Lewis, falling back into the man's long, skinny legs.
"That's exactly what I intend to do."
Lewis didn't remember much between the morgue escape and his introduction at the Evans Academy and was glad for it. He wasn't sure he could handle the embarrassment of being a drooling, half-conscious corpse.
Now he sat in his dorm awaiting the arrival of a roommate. The room was tidy and clean and didn't host a speck of dust. The beds on either side of the wide room were made up nicely with freshly-washed cotton sheets. Lewis' desk was cleared of clutter and books that ended up in the trash or hidden under his bed. The only evidence that someone lived in the dorm was the limited edition Star Trek calendar on the wall.
Lewis worried Armina had intimidated his new roommate out of attending the school, got up, and made his way to the door.
He stopped before the door mirror and looked himself over once more. His wavy blond hair curled up around his tiny ears. His face was somewhat round, and his hazel eyes were wide-set. Lewis wore a black t-shirt and faded jeans. Around his neck hung a necklace and charm embedded with his family crest. He didn't look a day over fourteen because he hadn't lived any longer.
He remembered so vividly the road against his back, his blood pooling. At that moment, instead of wanting to fight he just wanted to be completely overwhelmed into a slumber.
The door opened, yanking Lewis out of the past. His head jolted to the side to face Armina with blue tips on her dark brown hair. Other than that, she looked the same as always. Behind her stood an attractive boy about sixteen or seventeen with stunning green eyes and soft, neatly trimmed hair. It stuck out a little at the side, but it gave the boy personality. The boy had a wry grin on his face as if he was unsure whether to be overjoyed or terrified. Armina had that effect on people, but instinct told Lewis that wasn't the whole story.
As the boy scanned the room, Armina introduced him. "His name's Jayce LeBlanc. He likes helping people and asking a lot of questions. Have fun."
Armina pushed past Jayce, nearly knocking him over. He scowled at her but didn't say a word. She just smiled and closed the door.
Jayce stuck out his hand. Lewis took it and gave it a firm shake.
"Jayce," he said.
Lewis replied, "Lewis Walton."
They stared at each other for a moment, unsure of what to say.
Lewis cleared his throat and posed, "What brings you to the Academy?"
Jayce shrugged. "You know. I've got a power. My... parents think I need to learn to control it." He peered down at his shoes. "What's your story?"
"I was shot down in a hit and run when I was fourteen."
Jayce was stunned. His jaw dropped and his eyes went wide. "You-"
Lewis swallowed hard. "I can't die, and I haven't grown up in almost two years."
"I'm sorry-"
"Let's just get you settled in." Lewis took Jayce's uniform jacket and hung it up in the wardrobe. He noticed that other than his clothes and a few toiletries, Jayce had nothing. It was strange for a boy coming from home not to have brought anything.
Jayce noticed Lewis looking at his empty hands and spoke up. "We were in the process of moving. Everything was packed away in boxes, so I didn't bother getting anything out just to shove back in a suitcase."
Lewis, hoping he didn't sound too rude to his new roommate queried, "Why'd you come in such a rush? I mean, Mr. Evans just got the call yesterday."
"How do you know that?"
"I'm an assistant of sorts."
"Oh," Jayce said, sorting through his few belongings as if he had never seen them before. "My parents thought it was best for the- for my future."
Lewis nodded. He had never met such a strange boy before, and the school wasn't lacking in extraordinary kids. Jayce was conflicted. Quiet in volume yet so loud in personality. His presence filled a room with light, but in his eyes were fear and dread.
Lewis yearned to know what he was hiding, but let it go. Introductions weren't the time to share deep, dark secrets.
"So how many students go here? Armina wouldn't let me ask more than a few questions. I think I annoy her," commented Jayce, taking a seat on his bed, then slipping off his black and white high tops.
Lewis sat across from Jayce and let out an awkward laugh. "She has that effect on everyone. Don't worry, if she really thought you were a nuisance, you wouldn't have made it through the front door." Remembering his first day, a smirk snuck onto his face. Armina and Elliot had tried to scare him away with a false prophecy claiming he would turn into a goat by the end of the week. He didn't sleep most nights, convinced the process would happen while he wasn't able to stop it. After that, Lewis became somewhat close with Armina, but Elliot unnerved him. "As for how many students go here... I'd say two hundred, give or take a few, but only thirty-five including you live here full time."
Jayce ran his hand through his caramel-brown hair and frowned. "I still can't believe this is all happening."
Lewis, taking Jayce in as he sat in the widow's light, noticed a scar on his forearm, but thought better than to ask about it.
Jayce caught him staring and bit his lip. "I was stupid and got caught for it. A... hunter shot me down. The rest happened so fast..."
"It's okay. I didn't mean- You didn't have to-" Lewis sighed and stood up. He gulped and pulled his black shirt up to reveal seven scars dotting his abdomen like a constellation. After Jayce had a good look, Lewis adjusted his shirt and sat back down. "I have my fair share of scars. Whatever happened, you were just a victim of circumstance like me."
Jayce blushed and faced the wardrobe. It was a small, curvy thing made of oak wood in the late nineteenth century. It was carved with swirls along the edges to accentuate the bulge toward the bottom.
Lewis pulled out his phone from his nightstand drawer. He checked the time. Four o'clock.
"What do you say we take a walk in the courtyard until five o'clock dinner?"
The mansion was built around the courtyard. It was a lush green square dead smack in the middle of the school. Windows looked onto the open area with benches, fountains with marble deities posing at their centers, and a great oak tree at its heart.
Lewis thought the building tricked his mind into thinking it was smaller than it actually was, but he suspected magic had something to do with the endless halls packed into an urban mansion in Massachusetts.
"So, if you don't mind my asking," Lewis began, his voice the only sound other than a bird chirping, "What exactly is your power?"
Jayce looked at Lewis, their eyes meeting. "Uh, I can... I can turn into animals. It's pretty weird. So... yeah. It's not as cool as immortality."
Lewis casually bumped Jayce's shoulder with his fist. "I wouldn't wish this on anyone. It took away more from me than it gave."
He lived that moment on the side of the road over and over again every day. It haunted him in his dreams and in the daylight, but what hurt him worse was that he hadn't attended his parents' funeral. His mind had been reeling for the first three weeks since the accident, trying to decipher between reality and illusion. Lewis spent every one of those nights balled up on the floor, crying. He had his good moments like those being led around the school by Armina, but the bad moments were more frequent.
"How long have you been able to do that?"
Jayce shrugged. "About two months. I woke up incredibly sick in the middle of the night, then the next day I got up and could turn into Bambi."
Lewis chuckled. "You still struggle to control your power?"
"Yeah. I can't turn into anything smaller than a cat, nothing bigger than a wolf, and complete transformation is iffy most of the time. I'm a complete freak show."
"Most of the kids here are." Lewis smirked. "I can't die. There's a kid who can contact the dead, one who can feel the emotions of food, and another who can climb walls."
"Like Spider-man?"
"More like Adhesive-man.'
Jayce and Lewis giggled like two schoolgirls sharing secrets.
"You really think I'll be fine here? I've seen a lot of 80s high school movies, and it never works out for guys like me."
"Nice guys?"
Jayce's smile cracked. He looked like he'd never considered that he was nice. He had low expectations of himself and self-esteem issues. Lewis could tell.
He paused their stroll under the oak tree. The leaves rustled in the wind, covering the sound of the chirping bird. The grass waved, dancing like hula girls. Water splashed in the fountains, pouring over the heads of unrecognized marble gods.
"I know we just met, but I know that look on your face." He saw it when he looked in the mirror on especially hard days, on days he felt his parents' presence like a phantom pain. "If you need to talk to someone, I'm here."
Jayce's eyes teared up. He wiped at them then shrugged. "It can't be helped. Somethings are better kept to yourself."
Brushing his shoulder, Jayce passed Lewis and headed for the door. Lewis decided not to chase after, hoping he hadn't scared Jayce away forever. He counted to twenty, then briskly walked for the door himself. He noticed a silver-haired girl in one of the windows - the one looking into the math classroom. Her full lips were stretched out in a grimace, but it wasn't her expression that was unusual.
Lewis burst through the door, rounded the corner, and popped into the math classroom, but Mari had disappeared. She had been watching them. Why the most self-concerned girl in school was watching the new guy, Lewis had no idea. He heard their families knew each other, but anyone Mari Warner found worth observing ended up in her little group of worshipers.
Lewis gulped. He feared for poor sweet, self-conscious Jayce.
No attention was better than Mari's attention, and Jayce was the latest spectacle.