The others went as followed:

Jaz, who had promptly shut the door in our faces after sharing a few awkward, simpering (on my end, at least) niceties, was gifted in the art of brooding. She was a petit, dark-skinned, messy-haired fourteen-year-old who lived isolated, down in the dark basement of the Shack behind a heavy metal door and thick walls. Lucas had later on assured me that she was just as distant from the remainder of the tiny house's occupants, usually only leaving her room when food became necessary or to exchange reading material.

He had also informed me that she was gifted in psychological intuition. This extended to understanding, and manipulating (which is only mildly concerning) the behaviors of others. Conveniently, this also included fear inducement and, get this, memory manipulation- which swiftly explained that.

We met Jonathan next, which might have been one of the most pleasant experiences thus far in my life, only seconded to discovering chocolate and, admittedly, the thrill of kissing Lucas. The tan eight-year-old boy with three visibly missing teeth from his broad smile had a vibrant, extroverted personality which thoroughly compensated for Jaz's reclusiveness.

He had adorned the room, which I was informed, sat right besides Michael's ("So you know where you should avoid," Lucas had stage whispered mere moments before the older boy had promptly shut him up with one swift whack to the back of the head). My first interaction with the young boy was him sidestepping me completely to run straight into the eldest boy's arms. Michael, in turn, had accepted the enthusiasm with a small, adoring grin and had lifted him up in the air, to the other's delight.

Instead of introducing himself, Jonathan had changed his entire physical composition until he was a perfect replica of myself. I noticed that, yes, there was something unnerving about my golden eyes, now filled with what looked to be childish glee, that made me feel momentarily queasy. He had offered his (my?) skinny hand to shake and had skipped back to his, admittedly bland, room. It was an all-around unique experience. I tried desperately not to let my disturbance show, but Michael's knowing smile lead me to believe it didn't exactly work.

Lucas, who was now gaining the reputation of a gossip, had explained that Jonathan Fuller was abandoned by his mother at the ripe age of four. Michael had found him when making his way home one day from school and the rest was history.

I decided not to think of the implications behind Michael having raised a toddler at the age of fourteen. Barriers and all, or so I've been told.

We proceeded down the hall. Michael and Lucas paused in front of one of the wooden doors. Lucas' face had adopted an expression clearly articulated his disdain for the scene about to take place, and Michael looked to be mentally preparing himself.

Before knocking, I was given a crash course in the room's occupant. I learned the girl was the same age as Lucas, and thus one year younger than myself, and had enhanced human strength and agility. In other words, she was a female Batman. I had also learned that Michael had found her on the streets, where she had been allegedly trying to mug him, having recently been abandoned by her older brother. Low and behold, after discovering her unnerving ability to take him down in mere moments, he had taken her in. Since that was just a thing Michael did, apparently. Lucas had deemed it, "The Bruce Wayne Complex". (Which makes for two Batman references in a single paragraph. I am gifted, truly.)

When the door had swung opened, with unnecessary force for such a light weight, I was almost surprised to see a normal teenaged girl rather than the ferocious beast the pair of brothers had made her out to be. Although, the biting tone in her next words almost made me rethink this observation.

"Usually, when people come home from a trip, they bring back a souvenir or, I don't know, dinner? Not a whole ass girl." She eyed me warily, her mouth twisting in obvious distaste.

Selena King, I noticed, was tall, skinny and all around gorgeous. She had straight, dark hair and rosy cheeks that complimented such a fair complexion. She had perfectly plucked eyebrows and long, curled lashes that gently brushed the skin beneath her eyes when she blinked. Her thoughts were succinct, orderly and intelligent. She seemed just too perfect to be real.

Selena King was everything I had never been. And I'll admit, just this once, that I was absolutely, feverishly jealous.

The introductions had been short. She glared at the space between Lucas and I suspiciously, and I questioned whether my recent kiss had transferred something other than spit (I cringed at that intrusive thought) for all the secondhand anger I felt radiating from her. Maybe Lucas had given me some of his abilities. Maybe I had given him some of mine?

If you can hear me, fuck you. I received no response, but that was to be expected. He wouldn't want to blow our cover, after all. Speaking of mind reading, I definitely didn't require it to know she was thinking many things, none of them much in my favor. Although, I was intrigued to add more particularly creative terms in my colorful vocabulary. I noted said words for future purposes.

She had shut the door with an echoing slam after a few minutes, which I supposed is what she deemed an appropriate time for conversation. I hid my flinch. "She seems..."

"She's a nightmare," Lucas said fondly, his smile firm on his face. "Don't worry about 'Lena. She's just in a mood."

A damn hot one at that, I heard Lucas think to himself, and I suddenly understood his animated energy. I shoved this new attributed envy back to wherever it came from. In leu of response, I had merely nodded, unconvinced.

Finally, Michael insisted he formally introduce me to Maya and Blaise. His mood had seemed to lift exponentially after the spontaneous visits. I briefly wondered how either boy didn't feel unperturbed by so much typical teenage passive aggressiveness. Although, I figured most occupants here were attributed tastes. Would I grow to like Selena? In turn, would she eventually like me? Probably not, I realized realistically. I couldn't imagine ever getting along with someone like her.

Michael and Lucas had led the way back to the first room I had been shown, the living space with the uncoordinated couches. Although, now said couches had been returned to their original locations and were currently occupied by the recently aforementioned couple.

Blaise had her pinned to the couch and was mercilessly jabbing his fingers into her sides as she giggled breathlessly. Maya's hair was fanned out on the cushions behind her and her face was flushed prettily. Despite looking positively disastrous, Blaise was staring down at her like she was a gift from God himself.

I heard the familiar buzz of those real lovey-dovey thoughts, but they were considerably less obnoxious now. I felt a sudden burn in my chest, completed by the tidal wave of unexpected resentment that seemed to encompass my entire being, and I suddenly, desperately, wanted what they had. I had even risked a sideways glance at Lucas, who had a soft smile on his face.

He caught my eye and began to speak in a low whisper. "They're good together, aren't they?" He had the nerve to ask it, as if it were even a question. "Michael and I had found them when they were all twelve and I was ten. We've been inseparable since. We had found Selena and Jonathan, like, two years later, and Jaz two years from that. Now, there's you. So, welcome to our little family."

As Lucas spoke, I felt something new fluttering to life in the unsteady beat of my heart.

Seeming to notice my inability to speak, Michael had taken over, tugging us farther into the room and announcing our presence. The couple had both rolled to their feet, still unsteady from their mock battle, and made their way to where we stood. Maya had instantly embraced me into a friendly hug, and I had shared an only half awkward wave with Blaise who had made himself a silent but present shadow behind his girlfriend.

We had stayed like that for a long while, the four of us sharing one another's company in an uncannily ordinary fashion considering the situation. Maya had finished the exchange by pointing out in her soothingly sweet tone, "That's just like Michael, to just disappear for hours and return with an entirely new person. I swear he collects us, or something." To which Michael responded by shooting one jab or another and excusing himself to resign to bed. I took advantage of this opportunity to take my leave as well, and followed Michael down the dark, narrow hallway of rooms in companionable silence, feeling more exhausted than I ever remembered being before.

He had walked me to a room two doors down from his own, besides Jonathan's, and stood beside me underneath the entrance's casing for one long pause of silence. Finally, he nodded with his trademarked boyish grin and made to leave. I watched him walk a few long paces away before turning around, giving me one last imploring look and adding a, barely audible, "I'm really glad you're here," before disappearing into his room and leaving me to my own devices.

I stepped inside what would now become my own new room and studiously ignored my own racing thoughts. I decided to not give myself the time of day (night?) to think about what an eventful few hours it has been.

I ignored the easiness of the car ride and Michael's infectious smile, I ignored the ghost of lips against my own and the tingling feeling that readily accompanied it, I ignored the coldness I had felt beneath the stares of Jaz and Selena and the warmth beneath Lucas's and Jonathan's. Most importantly, I ignored the feeling of complete and utter connection I felt beneath the shade of this roof and the confining space of the tiny house. I ignored how desperately I needed to find a family amongst these strangers, and how completely I trusted them despite having just met them. I ignored the essentialness to fit into this hole they had given me to fill. I ignored the need to belong.

As you could probably tell, I did an excellent job at it too.

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- eli