Chapter Six

SIX YEARS AGO - Delton

I hated home schooling.

I hated my mom and dad.

I hated my own invisibility despite being waited on twenty four hours per day. No one cared for me as deeply as you read in books or see on a screen. For the longest time I didn't know how to place that feeling of lonliness.

I grew up early, learning etiquette and emotional cues at a level surpassing even my parents. Doing exactly what they asked of me left their grip on me laxx. It was no miracle they allowed me to attend middle school in the city this year, I manipulated them into agreeing.

Studies show that socialization is an important aspect of shaping a well rounded individual, after all.

By going to public school, I could get away from them and learn about the real world. Reading about it wasn't the same, there was perspective and depth to be seen in person. I could remember grandpa telling me business wasn't built on sweat or dirty deals, it was built on relationships. This was my chance to grow and maybe... meet a new friend.

"Delton, are you ready?"

I zipped up my bag. "Yes."

"Let's be off, then."

Dean led me down the hall into the garage. An SUV was running and waiting with the door open. I hopped in myself as he walked around to the driver's side. Dean was my driver and caregiver when my parents didn't have the time.

"It's less than fifteen minutes away, so we'll arrive at seven fifty AM."

"Okay."

I leaned my chin on my hand, staring out the window as we rolled down our long driveway. We were going slow, but there were so many shrubs their after images blurred past.

"Are you nervous? Because it's okay to be nervous for new experiences."

"Meeting a bunch of kids isn't nerve wracking. Adults are," I scoffed.

Dean chuckled. "You've got that right, but try to remember you're a kid too. Feel silly, laugh, have fun and make friends. You being so serious worries me."

"Why?"

I glanced in the rear view as I asked but he was already looking at me. Those hazel eyes were hard to decipher, smooth as Deans face always was. That's why my dad liked him.

"You're a twelve year old who can recite the periodic table of elements by memory and, like, thirty characters of Pi."

"Forty three, actually," I corrected, flopping back into the seat with my arms crossed. "And I can memorize things, big deal. I'm bored all the time so might as well use it for something beneficial. What's so weird about that? I bet loads of kids can do the same."

"That's my point," he sighed, clicking on the left turn signal. "No, they can't. You'll be surprised by how immature your classmates are. I'll be surprised if you make it past day one."

"You're on," I vowed, turning up my nose. "You're being too harsh."

"I wish I was for your sake," he muttered.

We waited through the five minutes drop off line in silence after that. There weren't droves of kids yet, thanks to arriving early, but I still felt my stomach flip. This was it. Dean pulled up to the curb and was about to get out when I shouted—

"No! I want to look natural."

Dean glanced down at my pressed black pants and navy sweater. "Sure, go get 'em, tiger."

His enthusiasm was lacking. I squinted at him.

"What's wrong with my outfit?"

Dean raised his hands. "Nothing. It's rather understated compared to your mother's choice. That's good. Make this experience your own."

Grumbling, I got out of the car and closed the door without saying goodbye. I slung my bag onto one shoulder and walked right toward the front doors. While doing so, I didn't look at anyone, though I felt their eyes on me. Some whispers broke out, particularly between the girls.

How strange.

A tall woman in a bright scarlet pantsuit and heels came out of the double doors right before I reached them. My interest in the whispers vanished as she smiled down at me. Her brown eyes were friendly with an excited glint.

"Delton Geiger?"

I stopped, gripping the strap of my backpack for dear life. "Yes, that's me."

"Welcome to Schaffer Middle School for the Gifted. It's an honor to have you attend. I'm Ms. Wexton, the principal. Shall I show you to your classroom?"

I stepped up to take the door from her grip with a nod.

"Lead the way, please."

Her smile turned genuine, a shocked laugh tumbling out. "Wow. Your gaurdian mentioned your mature demeanor, but this is..."

Ms. Wexton pressed a hand to her chest and laughed again as she breezed past. I followed with a low stone sitting in my gut. As we walked down the hall she rattled off the clubs, sports teams, and advanced courses they offered.

Then she went into her background and credentials as if it would be relevant to a twelve year old. This woman reeked of desperation to be impressive and/or liked. By me, her peers, and I don't know who else. It was bothersome.

"Excuse me," I said, cutting her off. "Where's the classroom? I'd rather not take the tour."

Ms. Wexton turned, a faint blush of embarrassment across her cheeks. She lifted her manicured hand, pointing toward the door right beside us.

"Room two twenty, for future reference," she replied in a small voice.

"Thank you."

I didn't look back and went inside, shutting the door with finality. I don't know why, but she ground my gears. Most people who groveled did. Why did everyone who ever met me in social settings try the same thing?

It was part of the reason I didn't demand to attend public school sooner. No. I steeled my resolved and clenched my fists, staring at the floor.

"Are you okay?"

His voice was a droplet across a lake. Icicles falling from the eave of the roof. Smooth and quiet. I looked up. All the way in the back row sat an intriguing boy near the window.

He was small, shoulders hunched and hands in his lap. The rising sun bathed him in golden light. His dark dark shined, but those eyes... they were the clearest blue I'd ever seen.

But why was one ringed in dark brusies? I flinched just looking at it, instinctively stalking toward him to put my bag down on the desk beside his.

"I should be asking you that. How'd you get the mark?"

I slid into my seat with nonchalance I didn't truly feel. Then I planted an elbow on the desk and leaned in. There was something about this kid that made me want to pummel the person who hit him. It would be easy, right?

If his size was any indication, then I stood an excellent chance. He was scrawny and defenseless. I expected him to burst into tears but he withdrew instead, shrinking toward the window.

"That's none of your business."

I followed just for fun, invading his space while studying his dull outfit. The pants were a few sizes too big, but had an elastic waist with a tie holding them up. His shirt was decent, a normal long sleeve black crew neck. He kept pulling the cuffs down over and over.

"Fine. What's your name?"

"Uri," he whispered, lips barely moving.

I didn't like the wild fear in his gaze so I backed off, slouching in my seat.

"I'm Delton."

"Del-ton," Uri said, as if sounding it out, tilting his head. "I like it."

He smiled, blinding me. It was beautiful save for those brusies. Where were they from and why did I care so much? I rubbed my sternum.

"Call me Del, if you'd like to."

Uri nodded, the smile encompassing his eyes and creating dimples. I blinked, feeling all the hair on my arms stand on end as my throat went dry.

"Okay. Del, do you want to be friends?"

My stomach swooped from chest to pelvis, emotions following suit. My stoic expression morphed into a soft grin. I couldn't contain the reaction.

"I'd love to."