The Mars Experience

Chapter 5: Athena

Waking up at six today definitely wasn't fun. Having a bunch of people look at me in my knotty hair wasn't fun. People I didn't even know talking about me like I wasn't there wasn't fun. But of course, I can't complain about any of this. The goal for the next few weeks is to survive, and the goal for the next few days is to be liked so I'll have people to aid me in my survival. I want to make an icebreaker, but I've no idea what to say.

I don't know if Donatella's able to tell I need help but she jumps in to speak. "Breakfast is served in an hour. Might as well get ready." Even though I was initially thrilled she talked, she sounds colder and even less assured of me than before. I didn't think one could trust me a lesser amount than she did when she was willing to let me die last night.

"Oh, breakfast sounds great!" I exclaim. "Do you know what they'll serve?" I ask, having analyzed each word carefully. I try to sound as innocent as possible and de-escalate whatever may be going on.

"No," Donatella snaps. "I'm sorry if your mansion has a laid out menu for every meal, but we don't know. Usually eggs, though. Is that enough for your highness?"

"Yeah," I nearly choke up. "I love eggs." Everyone around us is silent, gawking with the same expression: I don't want to get involved, but this is admittedly fun to watch.

"Do you hear that? It's the sound of me leaving!" Brianna teases, even though she obviously wasn't really joking. She does a half moon-walk out, then makes a smooth turn and rapidly itches her hair from one side to the other. I never noticed it before, but her hair is pretty short. It stays just below her jawline, with tips dyed a vibrant orange. It suits her face well. Brianna continues to push past Donatella and me, grabs a few clothes from the room, and goes back to where I assume Hugo and the other boys slept.

"Yeah, uhh," a boy who I have never seen before wedges himself in between Hugo and another, different boy I've just met today. Surprisingly though, this one's very handsome, wearing only plaid pajama pants and a gray sweatshirt rolled up to reveal his fit, bronze forearms with coats of sun-bleached fuzz. He has bangs nearly covering his left eye and silky looking dark brown hair.

"I better get ready too. Nice to meet you, Athena." He smiles with pearly white teeth and bows his head, extending his hand for me to shake it. As soon as I do, he glances at Donatella with kind eyes and turns around, wedging himself back through the other two boys.

We all stare at each other for just a moment, before the young girl turns and goes back to her room silently, gently bumping into my right shoulder as she passes. Hugo and Donatella both turn to enter their rooms at the same time. I begin to try and greet the boy I am left alone with, whose name I am yet to learn, but he turns to leave before I can utter a word.

I can't believe all this is happening to me. My life was perfect. I used to fit in with a kind, wealthy crowd and had a loving mother. Now, I have nothing. I'm the spitting definition of an outsider amongst the only people that can help me. Overwhelmed, I slide my back down against the wall and sit with my head tucked in against my knees, breaking into a silent sob.

"Hey." I look up. "Are you okay?" says the boy who greeted me earlier, this time with his shirt off. I know I'm supposed to be sad, but I can't help noticing his really defined abs.

I sniffle and wipe my nose against the back of my arm. "Yeah, I'm fine."

He stares at me with clear disbelief, but who wouldn't? I was just crying in the tight hallway against a wall in the homeless shelter. "Just... a little overwhelmed."

He crouches next to me, offering me a hand to stand up. I gently lay my hand against his, not even being able to focus on what's going on. Instead of grabbing on to mine, though, he tugs on my arm near my elbow so I have no choice but to get back on two feet. He pats a bit of dust off of his pants while I wipe my remaining tears.

"What's your name?" At this, my voice cracks and eyes well again. He first looks at me, eyes darting, calculating. I blink back my tears at the ceiling and ignore it. He grabs my hand solemnly, but that just makes it worse. I just clear my throat, hoping he'll pretend to not have noticed anything. Luckily, he's quick to change the subject.

"Conner, spelled with an 'e', not an 'o', after my father. He lives nearby, actually. A few streets down with my step-mom."

"Oh, really? Why don't you live with them?"

"They don't like me enough, I guess," he chuckles, scratching his head.

"Oh..." Awkward. "Well, do you have any other family members?"

"Yeah, an older brother and younger sister. My brother's friend has a good house, so he rooms with him." He guesses what I'm about to ask. "My sister passed when she was eight. Hypothermia."

"Oh," I breathe. "I am so, so sorry. It must be awful to lose a family member." As I say this, he flips his hair away from his face and I stare into his eyes, which is when I notice the deep, silky ocean blue surrounding his pupils. It has the same shade as the sky right before nightfall.

"Yeah, I get that a lot. But I've gotten over it. I mean, what else can I do?" he adds with another depressing laugh.

Conner must notice I don't quite know what to say, so he carries on. "Uhh, you should probably start to get ready. I'm sure Donna will have some clothes you can borrow. Just make sure to knock before you go in, in case they're changing."

"Donna?"

"Donatella's nickname." I nod.

Conner knocks on the door but receives no response. He opens it a crack and signals with his head for me to peek inside. I find Donatella, or Donna, is still picking her outfit. On a small boombox, a 2000's pop is playing. I go in, mouthing thank you, and shut the door behind me.

I beam as I see the room is slowly filling with a casual, light atmosphere. That's over as soon as I arrive. She stops humming along to face me in silence and turns off the boombox with the push of a button. The visible tension between us is dreadful. You could hear a pin drop.

I open my mouth to speak but Donatella stops me. "I have some clothes for you. I don't know what you'll like, but these are the ones I have." She gestures to see that the bed is packed with outfits on hangers. She picks one up from the layout and adds, "Not this one though. This is what I'm wearing today."

I decide this is the perfect moment for me to make Donna like me. "Oh, wow!" I exclaim. "These are all so pretty, Donatella... actually, can I call you Donna?"

Scanning my eyes over the bed, I notice the clothes really aren't all that pretty. In fact, they resemble literal rags. Not to be rude or anything, but these genuinely seem like something you'd find at a dumpster. Gosh, might she actually have taken her clothes from a dumpster?

I grin while waiting for a response. Instead of a smile, however, Donna scowls at me. What did I do wrong?

"Well, if you really like them. And, sure, everyone always calls me Donna." She tries to smile, but her jaw is clenched tight, arms crossed in front of her. She seems to be about my height, I might even be one or two centimeters taller, yet it still feels like she towers over me. She seems to tower over everyone.

"I do. I really do," I send out the brightest simper I can muster after both my dignity and my family have been taken away from me in a matter of about nine hours.

"I can introduce you to everyone in the group at breakfast. Now get dressed." As I step forward to choose one of the clothing items Donna has laid out, out of the corner of my eye, I spot a closet filled with much nicer things. I decide not to ask about it, but it doesn't take any kind of sociologist to realize I'm not her favorite person.