<span style="color: #08BFFF">She felt choked up. She felt conflicted. Her Instinct liked being around this girl, and she was used to denying her Instinct everything it wanted and then some. But this time, she agreed. She didn’t want to turn Aliyah down. And she didn’t know if it was because of her Instinct or something else. </span><span style="color: #BF8080"> “…Yeah. Yeah. Let’s do it.” </span><span style="color: #08BFFF">So Zere smiled with her words, but inside she was half scared and half happy. She didn’t know if anything good would come of this, but something would come. She knew that, the same way she knew when the security guard was staring at her, and the same way she knew how to get what she wanted, and the same way she knew how someone’s energy would feel in her body, and just like with all of those other things, she really wished she didn’t.<br/><br/>-<br/><br/>This Biology class, we will be exploring the sensory organs, starting with the tongue. <br/><br/>That mere thought made Zere fold her arms on her desk and then ram her forehead into the pillow they formed. School really wasn’t her thing. She lifted her head slowly as to not be accused of sleeping during the ever-so-exciting lecture. She looked down at the notebook before her and admired the doodles she had collected since the beginning of the year. There wasn’t a single “note” on a single page. That was something she was proud of. She flipped to the next blank page. It had a small water stain in the corner. She drowned out the teacher with her own thoughts, listening to the sound of her heartbeat and letting her thoughts flow along with the tip of her pen. <br/><br/>Aliyah thought her name was pretty. The last person to tell her that was her foster mother, the day she was taken in. Aliyah was in Chorus. Aliyah had a Mom and a Dad. Aliyah snuck out a couple of times, but didn’t like how it felt. Aliyah had weird ears. Her cheek bones were high. Her eyes were almond shaped. Her hair was so shiny and so black. Aliyah had weird ears. Aliyah had weird ears. <br/><br/>Zere shook her head half way through the period. Her Instinct was taking over her thoughts, and it made her want to scream. She looked down at her doodle paper, trying to distract herself, but what she saw made her lose her breath to terror and close her eyes as tightly as she could to find comfort in the feeling of her contacts twirling—keeping her protected. She placed her hand gently over the lined paper and she squeezed her fist shut. The paper crumpled, and with it crumpled the drawing of the people with pointed ears, long flowing hair, high cheek bones, and almond-shaped eyes. People she shouldn’t know how to draw, because she didn’t know who they were. And it scared her that she did. <br/><br/>What was making all of this so much worse? Normally she only drew the things her Instinct showed her when she was at home, not in the middle of a school day. But she was so upset, she didn’t want to go home. She didn’t want to be alone. She was scared, but she wouldn’t admit it. She didn’t even know who she was, but she knew what she wished she <span style="font-style: italic">wasn’t</span>.<br/> <br/>The hour came to an end much too slowly for Zere’s taste. She sat in the back, looking as inconspicuous as possible—trying not to grip her head in her hands. After the teacher left, Zere threw her bag on her back and rushed to the front of the classroom, throwing the drawing into the recycling like it burned her hand. Then she rushed from the classroom, but she stopped short in the middle of the hallway. She jerked her head to the side so quickly she thought she might pull something, but she didn’t. She craned towards the humming voice. It sounded like salvation. And for the first time in her life, at the same time her teeth grew sharper, her worries calmed. <br/><br/></span><span style="color: #BF8080">“Aliyah!” </span><span style="color: #08BFFF"> Zere found herself calling out before she could think a single tangible thought. She found herself jogging up to her before she could even realize what she had said. She stopped by her side, slightly out of breath—not from running, but from the way her emotions were beating in her heart. Her words came out jumbled. </span><span style="color: #BF8080"> “Your voice—it’s pretty—it’s really pretty—and, um—what did you want to do after school?” </span><span style="color: #08BFFF"><br/><br/>And what she was really hoping to ask was, <span style="font-style: italic">do you want to get out of here immediately? With me? </span></span>