Abnormalities

(Mason's POV) Chapter Two

"Well, sport. Here we are, our new place."
I looked up from my phone and peeked out the window of my dad's minivan. We had just pulled up to our family's new home, an apartment complex smack dab in the middle of Old Ranch City. I hopped out of the car once we had parked to help with the boxes in the U-Haul truck, but stopped to brush my hair out of my face before doing so. It got messed up on the way here, I probably fell asleep or something.
Mom and Dad opened their doors and took a big whiff of the fresh air, sighing. I didn't know what that was about, but I left them to whatever they were doing so I could get my part of the move out of the way.
I looked around the building and saw all sorts of strange sights: centaurs on skates, multiple meif'wa children being shoved into a car by their father, and a girl staring out of a window from her apartment. I made eye contact with her, realizing she was staring at me. I didn't know who or what she was, but whatever this frizzy haired black girl thought she was doing was creeping me the hell out. I hurried through the doors of my apartment and started setting boxes down in their places.
A few hours went by; we had gotten every last box into the tiny apartment. Half of my room was filled with probably unnecessary items that should've belonged in the kitchen (Dad never reads the labels for anything). Rummaging through the mess, I snapped my fingers, casting a simple levitation spell that would help me move what wasn't mine out of the way.
"Mason! No spells in the house!" Shouted Mom from down the hallway.
"But, Mom! Dad put the wrong boxes in my room!"
Mom popped her head through my bedroom door. Her brown hair draped over her shoulders, revealing one of her elven ears on the left side of her head. "Of course he did. You're a big boy, though. You can pick up the boxes and put them where they belong, okay?"
"It's easier to use magic, though..." I complained.
"I'll get your dad."
"But-"
"Joe!"
"FINE!! I'll pick up the darn boxes," I mumbled, picking up a heavy, dish-filled cardboard box. I carried it with all my might to the kitchen, scowling at Mom on the way.
"That's better."
It took a good thirty minutes before every "foreign" box was out of my small room. Mom really doesn't like me using my powers in the house, especially after the one time I set a batch of brownies on fire as a child so they could cook faster. We were lucky the fire department believed us when she told them that I accidentally spilled some vodka on top of the batter and stuck a flaming match on top, calling it a candle.
I started unboxing a few figurines and toys that I've collected over the years and set them on the ledge next to my bed. The clothes were next. I hung up what I could in the closet and left everything else in their boxes while my dresser was on it's way, along with some of the other big pieces of furniture.
"That's good enough for now," I say to myself. I sit on my bed and look out the window. I was surprised when I saw all of these creatures roaming around this city, ones I thought to exist only in fairy tales. Well, most of them. I knew some were real, like dragons and elves. That's what my lineage is made up of, after all.
Mom is an elf, one who grew up an outcast in her home town. She ran off to "The Forest" as a teen, where she found other elves and mystical creatures roaming and practicing the powers of their lineage. And Dad, he's a dragon. He was once a full dragon, terrorizing villages up in Russia, as all tales of his kind told. He then was cursed by a good witch, who saw what he was doing was completely savage and wanted to tame him. He was cursed with a spell that turned him human, but only partially. He was able to see the pain and suffering he caused, and therefore he was able help those he struck down with flames of fury back up onto their feet. My parents met while Mom was on a trip to Venice, Italy to visit her grandparents and Dad was touring the place to try out the food. Like they told me many times before, it was like love at first sight. Whenever Mom and Dad told me the story of how they met as a kid, I'd ask them to cut to the chase and skip all the yucky, mushy love stuff. I still find it gross.
Growing up, we never stayed in one place for too long. Someone would eventually find out and spread the word that "the spawn of hell", otherwise known as me, was living next door. My parents always looked out for me and didn't want me to grow up thinking I was a monster, but no matter how many times we moved out of state into a new one, I'd still feel rejected by society. The people who saw me for what I want to hide bullied me, tortured me. That's probably why my parents were so excited about this place; I wasn't going to be the oddball in the crowd anymore. I have little faith that any of the past can be changed by another move.
I pull out my phone and text Cameron, one of my best friends I've ever known online. Apparently, he lives in Old Ranch too, and since we're the same age, we might even go to the same school together. I've never seen a picture of him, and he's never gotten one from me, so it'll be a complete surprise when we meet each other in person.
"Hey, Cam? You on?"
No answer. I try texting again, it usually takes a few times before he picks up.
"Cam."
No answer.
"CAAAAMMMMMMM."
"Yes, friend, I am here," he replies. I smirk, of course that's something he'd say.
"I finally moved into my new place... You said you lived in Old Ranch, right?"
"Yeah! Wait, does that mean you're here, right??"
"Uh huh."
"Finally! Oh, man, I've been waiting for this moment since forever. We'll most likely see each other at school, since there's literally only one in the whole city. Kinda stupid, but at least it's big enough for the more, um... Larger sized people who live here."
"Weird. Hey, I was wondering, can't we meet up somewhere tomorrow? Like, at a park or something. I heard school won't start for a few days."
"Can't, my dude. I've gotta babysit my little sisters, all four of them. Parents are going out for dinner tomorrow. And, we recently got an email from the staff that the date's been moved up to the day after tomorrow, so the earliest we could talk in person is before the first bell rings on Tuesday."
"Can't I come over to your place?"
"My parents gotta know your parents first before anyone comes over. It's just how it is."
"Well, darn."
The chat room goes silent for a second, then is interrupted by the roars of my dad, shouting "Mason! Pizza!"
I text Cam one last time, saying, "I gotta go. On Tuesday, look for a kid with a green hoodie and ombré hair. That'll most likely be me, alright?"
"Got it. If I can't find you, look for a guy with messy hair, a purple sweater, and a blue scarf. Got it?"
"Got it." I toss my phone aside and dash for the kitchen. First night in, and we're already having pizza. Mom's not a big fan, as it gives her greasy skin as an after effect, which is slightly uncomfortable for her. She's eating it anyways; it's not like we have anything stocked in the dinky old fridge the landlord left us with.