The Next Day

It's been four hours, and I'm at my second to last class of the day. English class. Interesting, but I'm bored out of my effing skull. Sure, I'm good at English, but the thought of sitting down to write a paper with an academic tone bores me. Good thing the actual content overshadows my informal tone. I've gotten an A on my first in-class assignment in Chicago.
The bell rings. Pre-calc. Am I really in this class with Delaina? Funny, I don't remember seeing her. Granted, I was staring out of the window half the time, at the old statue of those soldiers raising up the American flag. For some reason, I couldn't stop staring at it. I wonder why my teacher hadn't noticed.

I slide into the classroom, and obtain a seat farthest from the window as possible. Don't need history trying to kill me again.

A shadow passes over my head. I look up to see who it is. It's Delaina. She waves hello, then takes the seat next to me.

"Hey, Cameo. Are you coming to the Inside today?" she says in a hushed voice. The room's loud, so I don't think the teacher hearing her talk is an issue. He's not even there yet. The Inside really is a keep or die kind of secret.
"I'm not sure. I came in kind of late last night. My sister's probably going to wonder where I am." I say honestly. She's been a bit of a worrywart considering she's always at her killer job. I'm lucky to see her conscious.
"Don't worry about it. Say you're going to somebody's house. Hell, some of us live there anyway." she says.
"Really?" I ask. That's a new concept.
"Why do you think The Inside is in a big house? One room is the headquarters. The rest of the house is living and breathing space. You graduate from high school, you can actually live in the house and it'll be okay. No rent, either. Just keep the place a secret and you can stay as long as you want. I've stood there many a time when I've ran away from home for the night." she says matter of factly. She then realizes I'm a sophomore in pre-calculus. "Aren't you a sophomore? What are you doing here?"

With that, the teacher walks in. Mr. Wyatt. Early thirties, very All-American, new teacher. I have heard many a girl swooning over him in the halls all over the school, even people who don't even have him. It's a little sick, actually.

Delaina doesn't seem to want to be part of the minority. She listens to him like he's got the answer to Life, The Universe, and Everything. (Which I find funny, because it's a number, 42. Hitchhiker's is one of my favorite books.)

Mr. Wyatt is going on a rant about how we haven't done the first homework. It was really hard, so the whole class boycotted it. Which was cool, we would have never have gotten away with that in New York. Speeches like this, and people wonder why I'm not gaga for the new pre-calculus teacher. Homework equals not that big a deal.

Forty five minutes, attendance (in which I learn Delaina's last name is Suarez, like Ugly Betty) and three sequence formulas later, the bell rings. Thank God.

I slide out of my desk, and Delaina follows me out the door. She taps me on the shoulder. "Cameo, are you coming back?"

Without thinking, I answer yes. If not to learn more about The Inside and anything that explains my zoning further, then to see Vladimir. Four days. Four days, and he won't get out of my head.

Delaina smiles. "Don't worry too much about it. He likes you too."

I turn purple, that's how red I am. "Are you a mind reader too?" I ask, dreading the answer.
"I wish! Nope, it's just objects I can move with my head. I just know when a boy and a girl like each other. It's the gift of being a third party." she says with a smile and an elbow to my ribs. Which hurts. I may look muscular, but it's just bones. I'm painfully skinny. I'd kill for a figure actually. It just looks prettier.

Delaina grabs my wrist and pulls me through the hallways at breakneck speed, down a few flights of stairs, and out the door to the parking lot, where Vlad's beat up van is already there, across the street.

"He gets out a period early. He's really your age, but he's in my grade because he skipped like the fourth grade, so he's with us. So he goes home and gets his car and comes on back to pick me up and we go to the Inside together. He's over there." Delaina, having finished her explanation on why the car is there, waves really animatedly, signaling to the car that we're coming.

Having reached the car, we slide into the back. The driver turns around."

"Hey, guys."

It's not Vlad.