I awoke to dim light; my desk lamp was on to provide illumination, but the sun had set. My sigh caused Jeeves to stir.

"How long?"

"Three hours, 23 minutes, 14 seconds mistress Min."

"Crap. So it's close to six, and I have homework to make up. I wanted to work on a few things."

"Just design them mistress Min, and I will be your hands while you sleep."

"That isn't nearly as much fun, and would still take more time than I will have tonight besides. Did I miss dinner?"

"You did. Would you like something?"

"Just a snack please... and some coffee."

"As soon as possible mistress Min."

He was slipping. Yesterday he would have had both items ready and waiting. I really needed to crack him open and take a look.... but first, homework! It was all so boring... so easy. I looked up to find the coffee, already cooling, with some sort of lemon cookies. Both still being held on Jeeves tray, in his hands. His look - expectation, with a small amount of exultation - was mildly disconcerting.

"What are you grinning at, you goof?"

His smile grew wider. A stray thought about the material his teeth were made of flitted into my head and flew out on swift wings.

"Your homework is complete."

I looked down, sure enough, it was. These black outs, trances, whatever they were, were getting annoying.

"How did you know?"

"You looked up, of course."

"Of course."

The logic was faulty, but in this case he was right. With a shrug I turned to my computer, wondering what project to start. I caught inspiration from a chance glance out the window, into the star-speckled night. Perhaps not all childhood dreams had to die?

I worked on ramjet engines until the sky began to lighten; baby steps. After a nap of course, I was late... so I kicked my brother out of the bathroom and jumped in.

"Darn it Min, hurry up!"

"I am, I am! you know how long it takes to wash this stupid hair?!?"

I rushed out, hair wet but clothes thankfully on in time to hear him mutter:

"Well why not cut it then?"

I stopped and got into his face, whispering one word so he'd understand.

"Mom."

His blanch and nod was pretty gratifying.

Breakfast was an English muffin, ham, and scrambled eggs; One look at the parental units and I put my work down to focus on it. Neither approved of me working at the table. As usual Jeeves dried and brushed my hair while I ate and sipped coffee. None of us spoke, focused on our own breakfasts and concerned with our daily tasks.

It's amazing, the things you can consider normal, and after so little time spent building such a routine. Human adaptation is incredible.

Jeeves finished just before I did, and had my bag ready. Being slightly late I decided to run. Luckily enough I could still do that much at least. I couldn't lift more than a feather, but since I didn't weigh any more than a feather, it worked out... sort of. I flew to the end of the block without slowing. And there, waiting for me, was Ricky.

He was tomato faced, and late... and seemed to be stuck to the corner as if glued. He wasn't moving towards school at all. Was he sick or something?

"Hey Min."

"Good morning. Come on, we'll be late!"

In passing and with a full head of steam I snagged his hand; a maneuver I had done before when he wasn't moving fast enough for something or other, mainly school. This time however, the outcome was different. Instead of him being dragged along I almost came to a complete stop instead, bleeding momentum as he staggered two steps before his hand slipped from mine.

Stupid physics; how dare it mock me this way!

"Seriously, come on! We only have 4 minutes and 12 seconds left! That's barely enough time, let's go!"

I started running and soon enough he was right behind; well behind Jeeves anyway, who was moving along at a comfortable looking lope of his own. This fact seemed to annoy Ricky, who started really trying.

That of course, spurred me on, because illogical as it was, I really wanted to see if I could at least win a foot race against my friend anymore. I was sure I could, but I kept hearing a nagging little voice tell me I couldn't. The irony of the situation is that Jeeves is the normal one here - he didn't care. He only seemed concerned about whether I'd make it to school on time.

Lengthening my stride as much as possible, I increased the pace and focused on my breathing. Despite these measures, Ricky pulled up beside me, easily keeping pace. I ignored the voice again as it whispered (You knew that would happen, you're short, with a smaller stride, and your hips are now most inefficient compared to before) and tried to find another gear. As if to mock such efforts, Ricky just passed me as we reached the school doors.

"Great run; man you're fast."

The irony that I was far less fast than when I was a man was not lost on me, making that statement a good outpouring of salt on some recently open wounds. I never would have lost that big a lead on Ricky as a guy.I decided to be the bigger person and let it pass as we walked in quickly, Jeeves looking rather forlorn, alone at the gate.

"So what were you doing standing around Ricky, we were both late!"

I really hope he wasn't waiting on me. We had an unspoken rule, we did not wait for the other after 5 till; it screwed us both detention wise. Luckily we had made it just in time today.

"Well I'd lost my homework at the corner, and was looking for it. That's why I was still there. But then you came and I realized how late I was, and ran when you did."

Pretty good Ricky, but I smelled a lie. How did you lose your homework? Throw it? The wind was blowing south southwest at maybe 5 mph... not really enough to blow homework papers out of anyone's hands unless they were asleep, dead, or distracted. And if homework had been blown out of a hand (the only conclusion about losing it that made sense, since there was no dog near) then why were you standing on the street corner, not moving to retrieve it? Again, I let it pass.

But something was clearly up.

"Alright, well which class was it? You'll need to get with the teacher and work something out with them. At least, after first period."

I made it just as the bell rang, finally collapsing to my desk and getting to take my breather.

"Dude, what happened to you?"

Ralph was looking over, clearly concerned. Ugh, I must look terrible or something.

"Nothing, I was just late and had to run to avoid detention. Is it that noticable or something?"

"Messed up hair, elevated breathing, a bit of red in your face... yeah it's visible, if someone is paying attention. Don't worry, no one else is."

My gaze swept the classroom as Mr. Welsch (late himself) entered. It was true, everyone else was off in their own little world, chatting, reading, or in two cases doing their homework at the last minute, frowns clearly evident. I saw only one or two random glances my direction, indications that I was included in those little worlds to which every fellow student harbored within themselves.

So very unlike yesterday; was one day really all it took? Was a short time all it took for them to move on to the next disaster? Talk about sheeple. I could only hope so really, I was still stinging from my inability to defend myself.

Had I been like that?

If I had at one point been like that, I would need to watch for it. Humans had a tendency to self deception after all, and I wouldn't ever want to go back to that shallow way of thinking... if I'd ever left it in the first place.

Ugh, thinking sucks, you can't control what you think about, and it never stops!

Mr. Welsch's lecture on how weight and stresses could be manipulated and eased through the application of proper
structure was only mildly distracting; didn't we already learn this from the kite exercise? I mean after all the winds from hundreds of feet up would rip a poorly built kite to shreds in minutes, and improperly shared stresses involving flying a big moving sail across the sky would cause one to snap even faster.

But of course, if most of the student's kites hadn't even flown, they wouldn't be likely to absorb that lesson through observation. Which was why we now had to design and create a superstructure to support an egg being dropped from a height of three stories (from the school fire escape, to be specific) using only tooth picks and an adhesive of our choice, glue or tape - but not both. If the egg survived, we got an A, if it didn't, well C's were possible for a good attempt. We would have two weeks in which to read the relevant chapters Mr. Welsch would assign, do the research, and make the structure.

The many groans from the class told me all I needed to know about what most people thought their chances were. As people started getting paired off, Ralph leaned over.

"What are you drawing?"

I looked down. In the margins of my notebook I had been drawing the new ramjet I had been contemplating, in the usual parts unassembled fashion I'd picked up from somewhere. It looked like an engineer had drawn it; there were calculations in regard to wind resistance (for the cowling), fuel usage, and engine lubrication. The ones regarding fuel usage made me frown; it was all wrong. This engine would require way too much power using fossil fuels.

Had I been doing that while listening to Mr. Welsch AND thinking about how crappy my life was? Was my brain multitasking? If so it was doing it without me being aware of it, and that was kind of scary.

"A new engine I was thinking of working on. For a jet."

He looked at it critically.

"Awful small, isn't it? What kind of power you looking to get?"

True, it was only the size of a good coffee snob's coffee maker, but the power was going to be impressive. If I could solve the fuel problem; I mean, 50 gallons of jp-9 for 6 minutes of run time? Who wants to deal with that?

"Oh, somewhere around 17,000 pounds of thrust. Maybe more if I can solve the fuel problem."

His eyes wide for some reason, he asked:

"Fuel problem?"

"Yeah, standard jet fuel just won't cut it; I can't load enough unless I build an entire jet around it, a large one. So I'll need another power source. Possibly nuclear? I don't know...."

"Um, can't you use something a little safer than nuclear power?"

Indignant, I was about to launch into the fine points of nuclear power safety when we were both rudely interrupted. Or perhaps not really rudely interrupted, since we had been talking in class and Mr. Welsh was the one who interrupted us, looking more than a little angry. It's not like we were being loud or anything.

"Since you two are obviously already discussing the problem,' his glare gained intensity briefly before settling back into a low simmer- 'perhaps you two should team up for this next project."

Uh oh.

I looked at Ricky and gave a sort of helpless shrug as I replied.

"Sure, Mr Welsh."

Ralph seemed similarly stunned. Ricky and I grouped up for any and all labs we could, we had since forever. On the other hand, maybe the break would be a good one. Once more a bit focused, I started sketching an egg cradle.

"How about something like this?"

Ralph leaned over again.

"But, how are you going to control the angle of descent?"

"Why do we need to? We can simply build this piston design all the way around, kind of like the NASA bubble around rovers. Won't
matter which way it falls then."

I looked up, and caught some people watching us and whispering. I couldn't make out what was being said, but I could guess. Mr Welsh on the other hand, heard less than I did. He was now back at the blackboard, writing down the chapters to be read, just in case the students couldn't read the typed handout he gave earlier. Mildly sad, that. I idly wondered why we were doing this project now, since Monday we were talking fish adaptations, and Wednesday's lab was supposed to be investigating those up close, using gold fish as the examinees.

when the bell rang moments later I dutifully tucked the hand out into my notebook next to the notes on jet design and rushed out the door. Ricky was lying to me, and acting weird. I couldn't blame him for the latter, but the former... we had never had secrets before, and even if it turned out to be something innocuous, it hurt. If it was that he didn't like the new me, well all he had to do was tell me so, and I'd leave him alone. I wouldn't blame him, I was pretty sure I didn't like the new me.

"Hey, min! Wait up!"

I turned, noticing once again my own personal bubble, an open space in the cresting river current of humanity in which none intruded. I also noticed the stares and whispers again, as people walked past, obviously thinking that I had mutated into something blind and deaf. I spotted an arm waving frantically above the crush behind me, and soon enough Maggie Johnson was bobbing like a cork through the water, against the human wave.

"Hi Maggie, what's up?"

"Not much, I was just wondering if you'd given any thought to making a few more of Jeeves. The line is already forming around the block!"

Seriously? What did they see in that buggy jerk? I mean he followed orders some of the time, but he wasn't in any way reliable.

"I honestly hadn't thought of it, Sorry. I got sidetracked by another idea I've been working on."

She finally reached me, grabbing my arm and dragging me along, Samantha flanking me. The bubble did one thing well; we weren't knocked around while heading to class. Mutant cooties, I had 'em.

"Oh, and what project has caught your fancy? A girl version of Jeeves? A new type of hair dye? Taking over the world?"

Oh, low blow. She caught my glare, but what was surprising was the peripheral view; Samantha's glare from beside me. Against such an onslaught she wilted, throwing us both the puppy dog eyes. The dreaded puppy dog eyes of contrition, to which I had no defense.

"Sorry, thoughtless of me."

I smiled to show I held no hard feelings for the reminder.

"It's OK; don't worry about it. And no, working on a new ramjet engine. It'll end up about the size of a large coffee canister and generate a good 17,000 pounds of thrust up to about 35,000 feet. The problem is the fuel consumption is insane, a gallon every twenty seconds or so, and the heat generated...."

I risked a glance over; Sam was listening sort of intently, but Maggie's eyes had glazed.

"Never mind all that, it's not important, I'll figure it out."

"But a new jet engine? What made you think of that?"

"Not sure really, but I've always wanted to fly planes. FAA probably won't let me now unless I have the power and don't know it, or build my own aircraft."

"So, you're going to build your own planes?"

Maggie looked somewhat excited. Another glance revealed Samantha looking oddly supportive. Maggie's next question floored me though.

"Could I... could we help?"

"Um...."

I was sort of saved by my arrival at algebra. Could they help? Would they help, and not hinder? Would they think I was weird (or weirder) for seeing me in action? As I searched their faces, Samantha surprised us both. Samantha almost never spoke except when called upon by a teacher, preferring to let Maggie do the talking. But this time she seemed to feel it wasn't enough.

"Please? I'd like to help."

I came to a decision. Stall.

"Alright, I'm not in any way saying no, But please let me think on it, OK? Now we've all got to get to class before we get detention; see you both later."

They both nodded and hustled themselves. Neither one looked angry at being put off. At least not yet.

Whew.

I sat down in a hurry again, and the whispers quieted. I grabbed my book and set my book bag down, and looked up to see Ralph in the seat next to mine, to my left... again. While yes, Ralph was supposed to be sitting next to me this period, he had for physics too. While Mr. Welsh was pretty liaise fare about seating, I couldn't imagine Ricky, who had been a few seats away, had been happy about the switch. Maybe that's what Ricky was staring at me about earlier?

"Say Ralph, did you piss Ricky off?"

"Huh? How?"

"You were sitting next to me earlier, Ricky normally does that."

"Ahh, it's first come first serve in physics, and as a devisor you're going to be a pretty hot commodity in class. So if he's bent out of shape about it, well he can just get over it. But he didn't say anything to me or anything like that, no. As far as I know we're cool. Why do you ask?"

"Well he spent a lot of class time staring our direction; you didn't notice?"

"No, I was busier watching the vapid gossiping crew; I didn't really want to feed them any ways to make us the next item."

Oh gods, my reputation. I really did not want to have to worry about that again; my character had already been assassinated once, my behavior impugned.

"Urgh. Not again."

Oops, did not want to say that out loud.

"Don't worry, I won't let them bad mouth you. We're friends, after all."

Hmm, did he say anything like that to me before? Did he try to defend my reputation before? Did I need such a defense before? Did I need someone else to fight such battles for me now? I guess I could have used some help like that before; my own response to people spreading rumors about me was to ignore them and hope they would go away, which led me to being pegged as gay all through middle school. Not to mention all those beatings in the locker and bathrooms if I let my eyes stray (I'd given as good as I got, and that trend hadn't continued past middle school).

It might have been nice to have someone else backing me; after all Ricky couldn't be everywhere at once. His idea on how to stop the gay rumor had consisted of me 'banging Pam' (his words, not mine) until the rumors were replaced by how much of a stud I was. Not much of a plan, really; I could tell back when I was plain old Myrc what that would lead to.

Having someone else say that they wanted to just be there for me, felt kinda warm... kind of nice. But letting him know I felt that way would be a disaster... it was against the bro code!

"I can handle myself, you know, I'm not helpless."

"True, but I don't want to see giant mecha roaming the halls spouting "kill all humans."

I rolled my eyes and shot back the best I response I could, since Mr Mullins had just entered and was staring us all down.

"Nerd."

"Geek."

Mr. Mullins broke it (and many other such conversations like it) up:

"If you'd all turn to page 243 in your text books, we will discuss polynomials."

Boooooorrrring. So very boring. So boring the light from merely boring, could not even reach where I was. So it was time to run a few more numbers of my own. This time however, I decided to focus more. I didn't like the trance that my brain seemed to need to do anything, so I decided I'd take a page from all those self help books and psychiatrists, and try meditating my way into wakefulness while using my so called power. While I could do the equations that a week ago I hadn't even known existed, it felt slow... like a lagging internet connection or
something. At least there was no pain, and I wasn't passing out.

The lack of those two were always a plus.

Math class was uneventful, and only two people fell asleep during the droning, the horrible horrible droning... a new record in attention, actually. Usually I was one of the victims. That might explain the surprised looks Mr. Mullins was shooting me as I worked. Thankfully he didn't ask me any questions, I didn't feel like answering any of those. I was sure he'd gather the nerve to soon enough though.

But for today at least I was free. And the calculations were complete. I was fairly certain that even nuclear power was unequal to the power engine needed; too much weight. Even with a completely stripped nuclear plant, running only one fuel rod, the core alone would weigh half a ton. There was no way I could attach enough of my new engines to that to generate lift enough to make the craft any fun at all. So I'd have to use something else.

That only left two other options for power; fission of other materials (like hydrogen perhaps) or harnessing a micro black hole. I just needed more then the standard 1% conversion rate humanity made do with since the days of fires in caves. Made me wonder how the other devisors did it; either they were making their own versions of what I needed and not broadcasting the discovery, or they hadn't done it yet, and were using something more esoteric, like cow flatulence or something.

If they had done it before me, it was a pure waste; cheap effective power given to death rays and war machines. The best power humanity currently had was nuclear, which was the most efficient out there, and was very safe (when the human element didn't betray safety features). But a good fission reaction using normally inert materials, like water, could solve so many problems it was a pure wonder to me no one had beaten me to the punch.

Perhaps the corporations resisted such changes? Maybe the governments did? I could sort of see that; if they didn't understand the tech, they would be very wary of it. And I doubt most devisors of any stripe have the charisma and desire to try marketing their own inventions, probably making the decision to shelve them instead to avoid the headache. Perhaps my power plant, should I be successful in devising one, should remain proprietary after all.

"Hey, you OK?"

I looked into Ralph's face from six inches away. My very not startled reflex was to pull away. Luckily I stifled most of the noise I wanted to make.

"Gah!"

I had been sitting in class after the bell rang, my brain had gotten away from me, so to speak. Less than two seconds had passed, but I had just done quite a bit of thinking in that elapsed time. Everyone else was getting up to leave, and when I hadn't moved with my customary alacrity, Ralph had leaned over to inquire about my health.

"Yeah I'm fine, was just thinking about why more devisors don't market all those better mouse traps they build. It just doesn't make much sense to me."

I got up and slid out, Ralph creating his own wake behind me.

"Well I don't know much about it, but I think the main problem with devisors doing that is non-devisors can't use the stuff, which means that if the devisor sells the better mousetrap, then he has to run and maintain it. Very few devisors want to be shackled to past projects, useful or not. Patent laws and the marketing business probably seal the deal."

On to the next class while Ralph went to his; he didn't have geography. Lucky him; I shared the class with Ricky, but also shared it with Pam and Gordon. While Gordon was suspended for attacking me, I couldn't really trust Pam anymore either; after all, she'd been standing right behind Gordon when he flipped, and hadn't said a word. I could feel the tacit approval of Gordon's actions, and that confused me. I had thought Pam and I were friends. On the bright side, the class was basically all reading, and due to my mutation, I had finished the entire book already and
could recite all the important details from memory.

Of course that just made the class more boring than math; so I sat alone surrounded by people, calculating and recalculating power delivery systems. The main issue with power was ironically, power. In order to use what I wanted, the safest power system delivering the most power, I would have to have enough power to light the world for a day, or a major city like D.C. for a year. In order to get that, I'd have to build a less powerful and slightly less safe power system.

I suppose I could always just ionize a gas and put the resulting plasma under electromagnetic containment, forcing it to generate power. Almost completely stable, fairly safe... if it breached, the disaster would be local. Likely only the engineer in charge of it would be killed. Or the pilot, if I put it in the aircraft. The power generated would be... roughly 4.6 times the equivalent of a gallon of water, when compared to deuterium. Hmm. Not enough, not nearly enough. But it could work as a stopgap, while I build a second fusion generator and had that working on the other power source... but then I'd need power storage....

"Minerva!"

So annoying, I had to think on this li-on battery problem, and Mrs. Carson just derailed my train of thought. Without thinking I responded.

"Copenhagen."

The flabbergasted look on her face was priceless.

"What?"

"Oh come on Mrs. Carson, you were discussing Denmark, and the first question you always ask after going over exports of a country is it's capital. The capital of Denmark is Copenhagen. Am I wrong? Were you going to ask me something else?"

I tried, but couldn't completely keep my exasperation from bleeding into my tone. I sent her a silent eye apology, which she seemed to see. I had no idea why I was so irritated; normally being interrupted like that wouldn't be a problem! What was wrong with me?

"No, you're right. I had no idea I had become so predictable. Moving on...."

Well at least I passed the attention check, and could go back to work. I'd apologize after class for being rude. I'd need space for all this activity; the basement wouldn't be good enough. But where could I do all that? I was pretty sure mom, let alone the city council, wouldn't let me do all this within city limits, if they let me do it at all. I'd need a very large work space, and a much larger three dimensional printer for the best and quickest results. But nothing like that existed around here; the best buildings for all that were warehouses, and the ones
around here just were not big enough, even if I could get the money to buy one somehow. My family was well off, but we were far from rich. Mom and dad worked for a living.

Well first thing was first; I could at least go with the fusion option. Enough minimizing the components and I could get it to the size of a good closet. As it stood I was looking at one maybe half the size of our entire basement. I wonder if dad would let me make it in the basement....

The bell signaling the end of class shattered my thoughts. I had managed to keep a good measure of control with almost painful concentration, but now I felt flushed; hot. I stood and after a fleeting moment the feeling passed.

"Min! Hi. How you doing?"

I heard Maggie chime up from behind, but didn't turn to her yet.

"I'm pretty good Maggie, wait for me a sec while I talk to Mrs Carson?"

"Sure!"

It should be illegal to be that chipper. I wondered for a second if she was on stimulants. I mean, I was and I couldn't pull that bounce and tone off. But I could ask her in a few seconds.

"Mrs. Carson?"

"Yes Min?"

"I wanted to apologize earlier, I was rude and I'm sorry."

"It's alright Min, I accept your apology. What was distracting you? You obviously had other things on your mind, for all that you got the answer to my question correct."

"Um, I was working on power systems. I really don't want to go into more detail here, I might be late for the next class. But chances are I'll be doing that sort of thing in your class a lot; I can't really help myself. I've already read the textbook cover to cover and after that, well..."

She finished for me.

"After that the class is boring?"

"Exactly; sorry. I can't help myself."

"It's alright Min, I'm not angry. If you already know the material, then I'm content. You'll be the first kid I've graduated with an A in 6 years... won't you?"

OK, she could pull off a scary look too. Wonder how everyone knew how to do that but me?

"Yes ma'am. Got to go!"

I booked it through the now mostly empty classroom before she could question me in more detail. Unfortunately that left Maggie, during the long walk to gym.

"So what had you scribbling away like mad earlier?"

"You already know, the jet engine idea. I've narrowed it down to one of the power systems I didn't want to use, but it should work. I'll have to use at least 3 of them, more likely 4, and I'll need to include a fuel tank for the deuterium that will have to be about the size of a small water heater... In fact a water heater should work. Then I'll need a car battery for the initial start up of the electromagnetic containment system...."

She interrupted me, just in time, as we put our books away. I grabbed my previously hidden laptop out of my bag, and she spared it a glance as she asked:

"You're really going through with it, aren't you? You're really going to build... an experimental jet?"

"Well, yes. Why wouldn't I?"

"Um.. no reason. My offer to help still stands. I'd love to be a part of it, and Sam would too."

I thought about it, and mentally shrugged.

"Sure, but I have a few conditions."

"And those are?"

"Two conditions. One, you do what I say, when I say it. That's more for your safety than anything else, can't have you flicking a switch at the wrong time and blowing things up. The other is you don't ever print any technical details you pick up. I'm not sure I want my tech out there in the wide world yet, and even a school newspaper might be watched."

She thought about it about as much as I had. We strode into the gym before she spoke again.

"That's acceptable to me, and I'm sure Sam will go along. Meet you after school?"

Hmm, I wasn't sure I was going to start today. Though I probably would.

"Sure, though I'm not sure I was going to start on it today. Maybe just the design stage."

She nodded as I realized we were headed into the girl's locker room. I stopped with my face heating. I didn't need to go in there, wasn't like I needed to change for gym, so waiting out here or better yet just going to sit down was by far the more safe option. Unfortunately Maggie had other ideas.

"Seriously, get in here. We were talking, and I for one am not done. It's not like I'll be able to ask you questions during gym."

If I hadn't been turned away from the door, doing the gentlemanly thing, I wouldn't have been caught like that. What was it with everyone grabbing me today? Maybe I should invent a Teflon suit or something; something one could not grip. Hmm....

"Well what more do you want to know?"

I was a bit curious, how much more detail could she need? She started stripping quickly; we were among the last students here, and late students ran laps. I looked into the sea of flesh; most of my fellow students were ignoring me, more than a few were listening in (like Sam, with an almost laser like focus three lockers down). Very few were doing any covering up. I could well appreciate the effort. Fortunately for them I suppose, the best I could manage to feel was an idle curiosity. An idle curiosity that made me both sad... and worried.

"The design stage, what's involved in that?"

"well it's where I look at the basic design, go over the math again, design the individual parts and test their tolerances and stresses. and other such boring things. Mostly it's all done by computer modeling."

I could tell she wasn't going to give up that easily.

"Sounds great; We'll be waiting at the gate after school, OK?"

Sam was nodding so hard I thought her neck would snap and her head would roll across the floor.

"Um, sure. Anything else?"

"Nah, that's all I wanted, thanks. Enjoy the extra study time. What is it for us today?"

Sam spoke.

"Wiffleball."

"Wiffleball?!? Oh man...."

Wiffleball was an actual activity? Wow. The guys were doing basketball today I think. At least I could still watch it, if I wasn't allowed to play anymore. And I'd have company; Ralph was already there, 4 bleachers up and already reading. I joined him with my laptop in tow.

"Hey."

He looked up, a bit startled, and gave a little wave.

"Hey. How goes things?"

"Could be worse."

I wasted no time booting up and starting on my CAD program. If I wanted to draft and run computer simulations, the best way to handle it would be to make the software involved myself. I already had a good head start thanks to the program I used to make the printer.

"Wow, your fingers are blurring."

"Hmm, so they are. I'm working on this program and I need it done as soon as possible. With luck I can get it done by the end of school. That is, if I'm allowed to work on it in study hall."

"They might, if you can prove to them you aren't doing something silly like movies or Facebook."

I looked at the string of code I was working on; it was already 4,263 characters long. I doubted coach Howard could even read C+, let alone tell that it was for three dimensional modeling.

"I don't think that will be a problem."

After all, coach would still trust me, right?

"Heads up!"

That yelled warning was enough to take me back... and start the instinctive ducking process;I was huddling over my computer before I saw the ball, which was coming from literally nowhere at high velocity to nail Ralph in the back of the head. It bounced off as he glared in the direction it had come from. And lo and behold, there was Monty, his stance looking suspiciously like he was passing the ball... to Ralph. But Ralph had been in front of me, and leaned down to look at the screen. Which meant that Monty, a friend of mine, had most likely tried to bounce a
basketball off my tender face.

"You OK?"

He didn't seem to be hurt badly, his eyes were clear and the death glare he was giving Monty showed no hint of confusion.

"Yeah I'm fine, it'll take more than that to hurt me. The one good thing I got from my mutation."

Coach Howard hadn't seen anything, of course. The pass had been timed for when his back was turned. Or perhaps a suitable distraction had been made; I saw he had been chatting with Chris, another member of the basketball team. The ball itself had taken a favorable bounce and was already back on the court. Without further ado I started down the bleachers. I didn't make it past two steps before an arm blocked my way. I looked Ralph in the eye.

"Don't. Don't bother, it's not a problem."

"It IS a problem, Monty just threw a ball at one of us. I want to know what his malfunction is."

He shook his head.

"It's not a problem, I already told you, they can't hurt me like that."

I walked around him.

"Just because they can't hurt you like that, doesn't mean they should be left alone to try."

"Just let it go; he aimed at me, and we already know why. He hates mutants."

Reluctantly, I sat. Monty hadn't even come over to fake apologize, the jerk. Of course he was getting beat off the dribble, so maybe we could claim a karmic victory?

"Don't worry, I'll keep an eye out for both of us."

With a shrug I started in again. It's probably true that confronting Monty with words would be a lost cause. I doubted I'd win a fight either, so that was out. Ralph could probably win such a fight, but never fought anyone who gave him crap; which was usually why I would step in before. Hmm, what could the reason for that be? Win a few fights, and even Gordon would leave you alone. At least until he smelled weakness. Bullies often seemed similar to sharks, at least to me. Monty was at least a little more intelligent than Gordon, and would theoretically require fewer beatings. So why would Ralph hold back? It didn't really make any sense.

Of course it seemed rude to ask, and I didn't want to appear stupid in any case, so I let it slide. Plenty of time to figure it out later.

Coach Howard had never even glanced my direction; I took that as tacit approval of my computer use in my now free gym time. The rest of class was uneventful. then the bell rang and I was free for lunch! I loved my laptop, it just went to sleep when folded, saving everything. The battery life was top notch too. I was out of gym like a shot, for once able to avoid all the people who wished me ill. I'd seen the looks Pam had shot me earlier, and no doubt Monty would love to beat on any freaky mutant. Not to mention Gordon's football circle was still lurking about.

It was an almost physical relief to see Jeeves waiting outside, a red checkered blanket spread under the tree I liked, a picnic basket lying on one corner of it and various plastic wrapped sandwiches, fruits and a piece of some sort of pie lying scattered about. The blanket was also a relief; I felt a little tired and it would be good to rest. The rose, in a vase in the center would undoubtedly be knocked over in seconds.

"Good afternoon mistress Min, you are one minute twelve seconds earlier than expected. Today I have a selection of fresh sandwiches; the Au blanch de paulet, the Au blanc de dindonnean, and the Rosbif en tanches. As a side I have selected fresh blackberries, raspberries, apples, and blueberries. The pie is Rhubarb. The thermos on the left contains coffee, the one on the right contains V8 juice."

I decided I'd better learn french. The sandwiches looked to be made with a few different ingredients, but they appeared to be a chicken sandwich, a turkey club, and a roast beef sandwich. The only real difference seemed to be the sauces on them, at least at a glance.

"Got a small pillow hidden somewhere?"

With a grin he pulled a small white pillow from the basket.

"As it happens mistress Min, I do. How do you feel?"

I sat and chose what I thought was the roast beef; food came first, then a little rest. I was fairly sure Jeeves would insist on it. Those looked amazing too. As I unwrapped it Jeeves pulled out a small mp3 player with ear buds. I did not recognize it. The other students who were inclined to leave for lunch started filing out; there were a few curious stares, but very few people came within fifty feet of us. That was a fact for which I was grateful.

Upon closer inspection and a careful test bite, the sandwich revealed itself to be roast beef and swiss, with some type of weird tomato and horseradish spread on both sides of the french bread. It was nothing short of a delicious blend of odd flavors. I really did need to learn french; no doubt Jeeves would slip something like powdered baby cow heart or something in my food sooner or later. I'd need to be ready to identify it.

"Min!"

I looked up so see a near impossible sight. A nearly breathless Maggie running up to us, Sam in tow. She looked angry. Even Sam wore a slightly accusing stare.

"Min, why didn't you wait for us?"

"Um, I wasn't aware I needed to?"

She shook her head a bit and muttered something I didn't catch. I tried again.

"I'm sorry?"

She plunked herself down next to my left and Sam took my right, acting almost as if I'd run or something. The look she shot Jeeves was still more than a little awestruck. Jeeves did not seem to care.

"It's OK I guess, but from now on, wait for us, alright? We can all have lunch together. It's more fun that way."

"Alright. Help yourselves, I don't think I'm going to eat three sandwiches anyway."

Hmm, three sandwiches and assorted fruit, and three people; had Jeeves known somehow? If so, how? I mean he had some software designed to replicate intuition, but was that what was at work here? He noticed me looking and gave an enigmatic smile. Oh yes, he had known somehow. And he wanted me to wonder about it, the jerk. Well I wasn't going to. I was going to wonder about the mp3 player. It was smaller than most, perhaps the size of a USB flash drive. The ear buds had a sort of gel on them. It had no manufacturer's stamp.

"Something I found and filled with music for you, mistress min."

Well that made me even more curious. Finishing my sandwich and grabbing a handful of raspberries, I stuck the ear buds in and hit the power button. Immediately some soothing classical music started. Mozart? Chopin? I wasn't sure, but it was soothing. Stretching out with the pillow under me was almost a must now that I was full. I reopened my eyes when I felt two cold hands; one on my forehead, one on the side of my neck.

"You are flushed mistress Min, and chilled. Your blood pressure is low. Are you dizzy?"

Jeeves, doing his medical thing. His face had a kind cast to it as he looked down at me. The facial expression software was top notch too, I guess. Wish I remember how I did it.

"A little."

"Then rest. I shall warn you when lunch period is completed."

I didn't mean to sleep, but sleep I did. Before I knew it, I was being gently shaken awake. Forty minutes felt like seconds. I was very groggy on the return to consciousness; it took me some time to remember where I was and why. The music had changed from classical to electronic, something strangely peppy and infectious. I could almost feel the energy from it entering me. I pulled the ear buds out with regret. Sam and Maggie had apparently finished off the lunch basket, and were chatting softly about some shop or other next to me.

"Ugh, that time already?"

Jeeves did his hand thing.

"You should be well enough to continue school, should you wish to. How do you feel?"

I did not want to continue school. Sigh.

"Well enough I suppose, a bit out of it. I should be OK for school, it's only two hours left, and one of those is study hall."

He helped me gently to my feet.

"Do not overexert yourself. Should you need me, do not hesitate to call."

"I won't, trust me."

I'd be a fool not to use the few tools I had available, right?

"Everything OK?" Maggie asked. Sam nodded as if to second the question.

"Just fine.' I stated as we started off, 'I just get tired a lot anymore. The anemia thing."

"Oh yeah, I heard about that, and looked anemia up online, did you know it's normally tied in with blood pressure? Low blood pressure specifically...."

And she was off, hurricane Maggie was in full category 5 mode. I just took a step back and buckled in. On the other side of Maggie, I noticed Sam doing the same. She returned my grin with a slight one of her own. It was hard not to like Sam, she was so open and expressive, all without saying a word.

Because I shared study hall with Sam and Maggie, I was able to listen to every inane fact and rumor that Maggie could dredge up from the internet, much of which I already knew. The thing about an anemic's blood being good for vampires was new, and not something I wanted to try confirming. Assuming I could even find a vampire; I probably could if I tried. Of course when we got to class, due to the 'sit anywhere' policy, Sam and Maggie sat next to me. I set my stuff down in the front middle desk, and they took the desks on either side. I wanted Coach Howard to
see anything that happened to me/us. I was well within easy speaking range.

"Coach."

He looked up from his sports illustrated.

"Yes Min?"

"Do you mind if I use my computer here? My homework is done, and I want to work on a computer program."

"If you don't mind me periodically checking what you're doing to make sure you aren't hacking the pentagon or posting selfies, then sure."

"I don't mind."

Maggie leaned in close to whisper.

"Min, why did you pick here? Coach Howard can hear everything we say!"

"He can also see anything that happens to us; I'm not so sure being near me is safe at the moment."

Sam broke her silence.

"Why?"

"Well before lunch in gym, while you were on the other side of the gym, Ralph got nailed by a basketball, thrown by Monty... on purpose. No doubt in my mind it was on purpose. The thing is, Ralph was leaning down between me and the gym floor at the time, which means Monty could have been aiming at me, and Ralph just got in the way. Now Monty isn't here, but some of his friends are, and they sit in the back."

Silas and Dean, I knew they sat in back because not too long ago, I'd have sat next to them. They were always cheerful, with a ready joke. But who knew how they felt about me now? About mutants?

"Well then Coach Howard is just going to have to put up with me!" Maggie declared loudly, and to hsi credit coach Howard didn't even look up as he replied.

"If you mix talk about homework with whatever else you want, I won't mind it at all. However I know you, Margaret. Your homework is NOT done. So get to it."

She grumbled but complied. Sam had already started hers... algebra for both of them, it looked like. I gave a shrug and brought the computer out of sleep, finding the code right where I left it.

"Um, hey Min, you know the answer to number 4 here? I can't get it to work."

I glanced over, it was a quadratic equation involving decimals. Fairly easy, if a little harder than what my class was working on.

"X = 4."

"You sure?"

"You asked, that's it. All you do is multiply both sides by 10 to remove the decimals."

I could see Sam on the other side of me erasing her answer, and writing mine.

"Oh, that's all? Mr Mullins made it sound so complicated."

Sam broke her silence again, for the second time in an hour.

"He does that."

My fingers hadn't even slowed.

"Yes he does, doesn't he? Oh well, I can help you if you get stuck. just try to actually do it first."

Forty minutes and three more algebra questions later, study hall ended. It had been uneventful, for all that Silas and Dean had been seated behind us and three rows down. The noise had been kept to a low roar, and my head had cleared completely. I was if anything, even more tired than I had been at lunch though. The good news was the coding was almost complete enough to test.

I waved to Mrs. Holmes as I entered, among the last to arrive. I had carefully put my computer away, and that took time. I took the opportunity to whisper to her while handing in my homework.

"Mrs. Holmes, I'm tired. Really tired. I'm going to try and stick it out, but if I fall asleep please don't get mad at me, OK?"

She looked as if she wanted to argue, took a good look at me, and just nodded.

"Do your best. Things will get better."

"Thanks."

Ricky had his customary seat for this class, Mrs. Holmes tolerated no seating chart shenanigans. The droning about participles was immense. Ricky did not dare the wrath of Mrs. Holmes with conversation, though he clearly wanted to. With herculean effort I managed to stay awake, but it was a close call. Mrs Holmes clearly appreciated the effort.

And then school was out, and Maggie and Sam once again bracketed me for the uneventful walk out into the sunshine.

(tbc)