Bizzare

↠↞Chapter 2↠↞

♢Vera♢

"Hey guys," I say as we sit down at our desks. The teacher is flipping through some papers on his desk, so there's no risk chatting.
"Hey," Maris says. "Nervous?"
I roll my eyes, as does Jal and Lavender. He asks this every year. Our answer is always a nearly-simultaneous "No."
"Besides," Lavender says, doodling with her pink-ink pen. "There's no reason to be. Hardly anyone grows Bizzare, they're mostly born with it, and none of us are Bizzare, so we're safe."
"Not true." Jal says, matter-of-factly, as always. "More people grow Bizzare than are born with it." Lavender gives him a sarcastic-scolding look, clearly not believing him.
Jal shrugs. "It's a fact." That's one of the reasons I consider Jal my best friend - he's always so logical. And he's very smart - much smarter than me. My average grades are B's and C's, while his are always A's, and if they're not, say goodbye to hanging out, because Jal'll lock himself away and study religiously.
"See?" Maris says, proud that he got something right for once. Maris is a lot of talk, that's for sure, and a whole lot of exaggeration, but we love him for it. He's spunky, and chilled, thus nice to be around.
"Whatever," Lavender says, shrugging it off, but you can tell that wavered her confidence a little.
Lavender is a very sweet girl - kind of the opposite of me. She's considerate, and wants the best for everyone. She's also delicate looking, and would never pick a fight. She's very pretty, too, - her dead straight blonde hair with the lavender-coloured tips are very flattering, and go nicely with her blue eyes. She's a lot prettier than me; I find my black hair and ashy-blue eyes rather boring.
"Alright everyone," Mr. Moin, our roll-call teacher calls. "No one's going to be doing any classes because today all year nines will be getting tested."
The whole classes makes noises like a bunch of baboons. Some boo, some scream, some cheer like they're brave or something. But everyone's nervous.
"Still," Mr. Moin says. "Roll call is still a must. So; Drake Allam."
"Here."
"James Alexander."
"Here."
"Lillian Alex."
"Here."
"Shannon Blue."
"Yessiree."
"Vera Camille."
"Here."
"Frank Carrel."
"Here."
"Zack Clancey."
"Here."
"Ashley Collins."
"Here."
"Jal Cooper."
"Here."
"Gavin Dale."
"Here."
"Chad Effo."
"Hell yeah."
"Sam Elliot."
"Here."
"William Evans."
"Present."
"Ellie Ex."
"Here."
"Lavender Garden.
"Here."
"Sarah Garner."
"Here."
"Peter Hicking."
"Here."
"Troy Joy."
"Yup."
"Maris Landard."
"Yeah boiiii's."
"Oprah Little."
"Here."
"Coral Loud."
"Here."
"Tom Marotta."
"Here."
"Harry Simons."
"Here-o."
"Corbin Towe."
"Yeah."
"Gale Vance."
"Here."
"Alright, nice," the teacher says, folding the clipboard under his armpit. "everyone's here. Perfect." Then he mumbles something about our parents, the bane of every teachers life, and not excluding mine.
I love my parents, and they look after me better than a lot, I'm sure, but they're perfectionists. They want what's best for me, to the point where it can be embarrassing, and a little extreme. For instance, once, a boy called me hot and tried to slap me, so I grabbed his wrist before he came into contact, and twisted it, then kneed him in the stomach. He crippled inwards and fell to the floor. I yelled and him and told him never to try and touch someone like that again, and I've never seem anyone run away so fast. I was super proud, and so was my dad. Then, the boys parents along with the school got me in trouble, and mum was going to have none of that, that was for sure. And let's just say, the school will never mess with my mum again.

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"Alright everyone," Mr. Moin calls. "Let's do a quick head count." Then he starts naming people, expecting us to call 'here'. I vaguely hear my name called, so I say 'here,' and that seems to be sufficient.
We're outside a huge hospital. Every year, in the month of April, everyone from age one to eighteen, gets tested to see if they're Bizzare. Every day in the month is a new age group. Today, it's the fourteens and fifteens.
Jal has always thought it was a dumb system. He believes people should be tested on on their birthday, because that way there's no extreme waits, and the education department doesn't have to spend their money of these 'excursions'. I always thought he was right, and told him to complain or suggest his ideas or something, but he just shrugs and says "what's the point? They're not going to listen to someone my age." And even though I know he's is right, I always complain he's "too passive."
Jal is just like that. He's very smart, but doesn't bother doing anything with it.
"Alright, looks like we're all ready," I hear one of the teachers say to another.
"Okay everyone!" Mr. Moin yells at the class. "Let's move on in!"
And so the whole class starts shuffling into the hospital.

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