-Two Years Later-

I took a seat at the 'Popular' lunch table, smiling at all of my friends as they welcomed me to the table. I had my lunch in one hand and a book in the other. They all chorused 'hi' and 'hey' and 'what's up, girl?'

"Hey, Maya," one of the girls, Erica, greeted me individually. Erica was one of my best friends, so it was no wonder.

"Hey," I answered, grinning. I zipped my lunch box open.

"Have you heard about what happened with that Charlee girl and her boyfriend?" a different girl, Angie, asks.

"It's a rather great story," Taylor laughs. "It's almost like Young and the Restless happening in our own school."

A smile dances on my face. He knows I watch Young and the Restless, hmm.

I clear my mind as I bite into my apple. It instantly calms my exhausting cravings.

Yes, it's that time, unfortunately.

I begin to tap my feet on the spotted concrete ground. My boots, donning chunky socks as well, were a good choice for my outfit today. But they don't call me fashionable for nothing. I also examined my necklace. The citrine pendant was sparkling under the fluorescent light.

"You look nice today," Taylor complimented, and I found a red heat creeping up my neck and onto my cheeks.

I laughed. "Yeah, says the guy who wore the same three shirts in middle school."

"This isn't middle school anymore," he says, probably more diplomatic than he meant to. "We're sophomores now! I wear a variety of shirts."

"Okay, maybe four," I snicker.

"Maya..." he groans in mock frustration.

I smirk, taking another bite out of my apple.

"Can I have your chips?" Taylor's best friend, Gavin, comes to sit down beside of me. He takes my bag of Doritos, wordlessly begging for some.

I snatch them from his hands, with a blunt "No." I'm used to Gavin begging for and/or just stealing my food, but I can't let him take it forever.

He frowns, and everyone else at the table begins laughing at his failure. I'm laughing too.

Maybe it's just the way I've been holding my apple, but I feel a fiery pain shooting through my hand. It was my scar from two years ago, Mrs. Astillo's eighth grade class. I cringed as I recalled the traumatic experience.

Despite the fact that it was two years ago, the scar had never fully healed. It was on both sides of my right hand, palm and all. Because of that, I had to convert to using my left hand for most things I tried doing. It's not easy leaving it all behind, but it would cause too much pain- and I didn't want that.

"I need to head to the nurse, I'll be back soon," I told the table.

They flashed thumbs-ups and nodded agreements, a few even saying, "See you, Maya."

Taylor quickly queried, "What's wrong?"

I pointed to my palm, which was turning a bright pink. Maybe I irritated it- but one thing was for sure: it hurt worse than it did when the bullet entered my hand.

I asked the lunch monitor if I could go to the nurse, and eventually, I was speed-walking down the hall to her room.

The door flew open; I guess the nurse must have seen me coming. I was greeted by the all-too-familiar face of Nurse Childress.

"I'm a bit busy as of now with another student, but I'll be with you in a moment. Take a seat, will you?"

"O-okay," I managed to squeak out, taking a seat in one of the plush blue chairs. I was rubbing my palm in an attempt to calm the pain, but it was to no prevail. It continued to redden, and I think it bled a little bit. There was some evidence of the red liquid on my nails.

I yawned, my head falling into my hands, when I heard the door open. My dark brown eyes glanced up.

It was Brielle, a freshman who I had English class with. The New Ager gave me a nice smile, her eyes twinkling.

Suddenly, the intercom came on, buzzing and crackling before a voice spoke. The office was saying something about a girl named Fawn Astillo- I had heard her name before, but I don't I think I've really spoke to her. As a more popular girl, I focused on my clique more than anyone else.

"I wonder who Fawn is," Brielle said, her voice still as raspy as it was this morning, falling down onto a mat.

I winced as I continued to rub my pained scar over and over. "Yeah."

"You two, follow me," the nurse said, a boy exiting the office as we retreated after Nurse Childress.

We walked up to her desk. She pulled a clipboard, murmuring, "Maya? Is that right?"

I nod. "Yes ma'am."

"What is it that's bothering you?" she questioned.

I showed her my irritated hand. The red tint was becoming lighter- almost like an orange color. It was honestly revolting.

"Ah, your scar."

I nodded. Nurse Childress said, "Go to your left and you'll find a little room. Sit in there while I work with my other patients."

As I sat in the thick silence, Brielle joined me, and while we waited for Nurse Childress, two more girls came in.

"You all have scars too?" I asked, trying to demolish this silence spell.

The two new girls nodded.

"I'm Maya Hamilton," I tell them.

"Fawn Astillo," said the girl with the wild curls.

"I'm Deristdella," the red haired one said, putting an earbud back into her ear.

I blinked a few times to clear my cloudy vision, but when I stopped, I noticed my scar had disappeared.

It had been replaced by a gem, similar to the one on my necklace.

My left hand had a gem on it, too. They were twinkling.

"What's going on?" Fawn shrieked, rubbing her shoulder. "My scar is gone! And now there's- this!"

"Me too," I murmured. "We're, we're-" 

"Aliens..." Brielle squeaked.

"We're monsters," I added solemnly.

//

a/n from lila-

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