CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

At recess, Lauren sits with me at a random spot on the lawn. The lawn is packed because for the first time in what feels like ages, the sun has dared to show. It's blocked out by a cloud every now and then, but it's better than not shining at all. I haven't seen the sun it what feels like years and I'm constantly squinting, unused to the harsh light.

Of course, I have seen the sun recently. At sunrise and sunset, you can still watch it rise over the horizon before it passes beneath the blanket of clouds which cover this part of Sydney. Again, I wonder why that is. Why is it cloudy all the time? What has that got to do with me? I take the heat from the air, not the sunshine – I don't create clouds.

And how does it work anyway? In primary school I was taught that the sun evaporates the water, and that the water vapour floats up into the sky to create clouds until eventually, the clouds become too heavy and it rains. So how is it possible to be cloudy all the time when the sun is required to create clouds? I've seen no explanation for that in any of the books I've read about being swapped, and the doctors have been searching for a reason for it for years.

Resolving to come back to those thoughts at a better time, I dump them in a faraway part of my brain.

I look down from the bright blue sky, spotted with clouds, and notice Lauren's skirt not for the first time. Its maroon, and stands out amongst the sea of white, blue and grey uniforms like a sore thumb.

"Nice skirt," I compliment. But even if it was the ugliest damn skirt I'd ever seen, I'd still have complimented it. Because, in all honesty, I couldn't possibly care less about the skirt – it's acting like I'm normal and that everything's okay that I care about, and to do that, I have to at least pretend that I'm interested in the things that most girls are interested in.

"Thanks," she says. "They gave me a lunch time detention on top of my afterschool detention for this skirt, but it was worth it."

I laugh and my smile remains glued to my face as Lauren continues talking. It's strange how easy it is to pretend to be normal even though I haven't been normal for a single day of my life. It does help that everyone seems to be pretty accepting of me at the moment.

I blot out Lauren as she continues to babble on and finally take notice of the people around me. It's an ocean of smiles and laughter, brightness and joy, and it's seems so out of place in this school that has seen gloominess for so long that I nearly forget where I am. Who I am. Now, it's hard to believe that these were the people that taunted and sneered as I passed them in the hallways.

The clouds aren't the only things that have lessened today – the icy attitude of my peers has decreased too. It seems that with sun comes a happiness that can't be ruined, and that with clouds and rain comes a depressing smog which weighs every down, forcing them to put up a front of bitterness, while on the inside they pray that today won't be their day – that today, their life won't fall apart.

That was me almost every day of my life. Hiding within myself, staying away from anyone and everyone so that maybe, just maybe, I'd get through the day unscathed. I'd walk in the rain and sit in the cold because that was all I knew and because, for me, that was normal. That was my way of staying safe. I stuck to what I knew, hid in the places you'd expect me to hide, so that when someone came for me, to jab at my heart with spears of insults and heart-wrenching words, I'd have the protection of familiarity.

And it's not so much different for anyone else, except instead of rain and cold, they have their friends. You stick by your friends because they are familiar, and because if you ever need help, they'll be there to back you up and offer comfort.

Leaving the security of your friendship group is like me leaving the security of the weather I know all too well. While the cold won't stick up for me, it does give me the confidence and support I need to face up to those who like to beat me up about something I can't control. And if I were to sit inside, where its warm and dry, I'd be letting go of that familiar friend and facing the ugly world alone, with zero confidence and zero support.

So on a day like today, where it's dry and sunny, and I'm surrounded by those who once jabbed at me with those relentless spears, it comes as a surprise that I don't feel vulnerable and alone. In fact, I feel sort of... at home. As if I finally fit in.

And it seems that everyone else feels that way too. They've broken out of their cages of fear and taken off their masks of bitterness so that the sun may shine onto them, lighting up the dark places in their minds and hearts.

Today, it's happiness all round. With me here, a sunny day is about as rare as winning the lottery.

I'm still looking at the smiling faces – at the lack of ugly glares in my direction and overall ignorance of my identity – when I see someone standing outside the fence, leaning against the blue bars that line the perimeter of this school.

I recognise him with a jolt.

Is this it? Is this him finally coming to get rid of me? Was my vision telling the truth?

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice that Lauren's stopped speaking, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Uh, Melissa? Are you alright?"

It's couple of seconds before I find words. "I'm fine." I focus on her face and smile. "Just thought I saw someone I knew."

She stares at me for a second more, then resumes speaking as if nothing happened. "Anyway, so Harrison is still pestering me about it and I..."

Once again, I zone out, nodding at all the appropriate times and sneaking glances at the young man by the fence when her eyes aren't firmly trained on me.

Then, suddenly, the bell rings, and for the first time in a long time, recess feels like it ended too soon. I'm used to it dragging out, the seconds slowly ticking away as I wait for my third class to begin. But clearly not today.

In my next two classes, I keep my eyes fixed on the windows and doorways, watching and waiting for that man to come and finish me off. I can only hope that he won't want to kill me while I'm surrounded by people. Although, he could always shoot me from faraway or use his strange powers and send a car flying through the windows and crashing into me.

Putting all the crazy possibilities my mind comes up with aside, I make a mental note to look up the man's ability when I get home. I need to know what I'm dealing with here.

Times flies by and all of a sudden it's lunchtime. When I get to the lawn, I notice that the clouds have cleared even more, and it makes me smile.

"Hey, Melissa! Over here!"

My head turns at the sound of Lauren's voice and I see her sitting with her friends, waving me over. Those around her look at me warily and I swallow hard.

I don't think I can go over there.

"Come on!" Lauren calls, either not noticing the way her friends act towards me or pretending not to. She did say that they didn't like me. What was the rumour she said they started? Oh, that's right – I'm a demon in a false body.

Reluctantly, I make my way over to her, painfully aware of her friend's analysing gazes and firm stares. I stop at the edge of their circle and sweep my gaze over theirs.

Lauren pats the floor. "Sit." Like a well-trained pet, I do.

"Don't you have detention?" I ask her quietly, everyone's eyes still on me.

"Yes, but I couldn't be bothered to go." She doesn't elaborate. This is followed by a full minute of dead silence where every eye is watching me, and all I can think is: What do I do?

Lauren breaks the silence. "You guys all know Melissa," she says to her friends. No one nods or makes any indication that they heard her. Lauren continues anyway. "Um, Melissa, this is Emma, Piper, Evan, Kira, Shaun, Jake and Kirsten." She gestures to each one in turn.

I only take notice of a few of her friends. Kira, who started the rumour about my being a demon, is a fake blonde, her brown roots showing where she's parted her hair. Her eyes are an uncommon bright green and are way too kind and curious to fit the image of her I had in my mind, which was of a selfish girl who likes to laugh at others and who craves attention.

I also notice Shaun, who's in many of my classes. Shaun's tall and thin, but not lanky. I can't exactly say he's attractive either, with plain brown hair and stock standard brown eyes. Nothing about his face sets him apart – he's the sort of person who blends in with the crowd, whose face you forget the moment you look away. I'm surprised I've even recognised him at all.

And my eyes pick out Piper – the girl who I've remembered from my English class for no apparent reason. Maybe it's because of her light blue eyes that always appear sad or her dark brown hair and pale skin which reminds me way too much of myself.

Of course though, she's nothing like me, which can be confirmed by the cold gaze she sets on me as I make brief contact with her eyes.

There's another stretch of painful silence, causing me to become conscious of my galloping heart and the flattened mess my sandwich has turned into as a result of gripping it so tightly. The pause in conversation stretches on for what must be all of eternity.

And then Kira, with her curious emerald eyes on me, says, "What's it like?"

"Uh, what's what like?" I reply cautiously.

"I don't know. Everything. Your disease, having to move all the time, dealing with everyone who gives you shit."

I'm shocked. Since when do girls who start rumours about me ask me things like that? Does she really care or is she just asking so that she can rid us of this horrible silence?

"It sucks," I answer truthfully, but don't say anything else. I hardly know these people – there's no way I'm about to tell them the ins and outs of my shitty life.

"Has it been like this at every school you've been too?"

My grip on my sandwich loosens as I start to notice the curious light in everyone's eyes. Maybe they aren't so bad after all. "Pretty much."

"Are you gonna answer all of my questions with less than four syllables?"

"I don't know."

Lauren laughs awkwardly. "Okay, well, as much fun as this conversation is, do you want to maybe change the top–"

"Does it hurt?" Kira asks, completely ignoring Lauren.

My eyes snap onto hers the moment the words leave her mouth. No one's ever asked me that before. She stares back, her eyes showing a mixture of curiosity, pity and knowing. The latter emption confuses me. Knowing? How can she possibly know what it's like to get heat attacks day after day?

It's a simple question – all that's required is a yes or no – and yet it feels like one of the hardest things I've ever had to answer. Again there's silence as everyone waits for my answer, as if they don't already know. I'm sure that each one of them has personally seen my heat attacks, watched me cry out in pain as the fire consumes my body, but still they need me to verify their assumptions. Do they really believe the rumours that say I cry to gain sympathy?

In the end, I don't answer with a yes or no. After all, how can I be certain she's talking about my heat attacks and not the hurt of moving all the time or knowing that almost everyone hates me?

"What part?" I reply coldly, putting up that barrier – that mask – that everyone has up on cloudy days. "Spending every day alone? Unintentionally killing people wherever I go? Or having to put up with everyone insulting and glaring at me?"

She looks a little surprised by my angry response. "I suppose all of it, but I did mean the heat attacks."

"It all hurts, especially the heat attacks."

She smiles sadly. "I'm sorry."

I'm so taken aback that I barely notice when the group starts talking, two or three separate conversations breaking out all at once about everyday things like homework and the weekend. Next to me, Lauren starts babbling away to the girl she introduced as Emma. Only Kira stays out of the conversation, her eyes still on mine.

Why do I get the feeling that this girl knows something about me? That she's in some way different? It's a stupid feeling since I seem to get it every time I meet someone, and for that reason, I ignore it. Not everyone can be like Caden with abilities and knowledge of what I'm going through. Besides, this is the girl who started a rumour about me being a demon in a false body. And while she may have gotten pretty close to the truth with the 'false body' part, there's no way she knows anything at all. She's probably just very intuitive and intelligent.

I finally break eye contact with her and unwrap my squashed sandwich, taking bites out of the mush that is my lunch.

Lunchtime is halfway gone when the conversation around me starts to die down. But not only in the group I'm sitting with. It seems that the whole lawn is slowly going silent.

The people I can see are all staring at something behind me and Shaun whispers, "Who is that?"

I'm not one hundred per cent sure why, but my skin starts to crawl. Slowly, very slowly, I turn around. And then I see her.

She's standing by the edge of the lawn, her blonde hair much lighter than I remember it, as if she's had it bleached. Her brown eyes are still as piercing as they are in my memories, though, and she still has that look of intelligence about her that she had even as a young child. Just like in my dream, the chubbiness of her cheeks has disappeared, and in its absence I see her prominent cheek bones and slightly pointed chin. But she's deathly pale. In my memories, she's always tanned, but now she looks as much like a ghost as I do.

Without thinking, I stand and her eyes lock onto mine.

"Sarah," I breathe.