I AWAKE TO THE COUGHING SOUND of an aged vacuum. Rubbing my eyes, I dress and proceed to the first floor. Jagger has nearly finished cleaning the broken glass by the time I approach him in the kitchen.

        "What has been stolen?" I inquire, yawning, slumber slightly fogging my mind. My fatigued eyes squint in the light. I scan the room for evidence the criminal may have left behind. 

        "Nothing." He pulls the power cord from the outlet. The old machine protests a puff smoke before powering off.

        "The individual must have seized something . Why go through the trouble of trespassing in the first place?"

        I scan the floor. A plastic label attached to a large shard of glass, too large for the vacuum, sits alone.

        "Perhaps the loud noise induced panic."

        I take hold of the label cautiously. It confirms that the bottle once held an alcoholic beverage.

        "Due to intoxication."

        Jagger takes the label from me.

        "An impressive observation, Detective Riverton," he speaks with sarcasm. "You must be starving."

        I acknowledge my groaning abdominal region.

        "I'll be right back." He walks to the door, turning to face me before exiting. "And don't bother Sommer, okay? She isn't too fond of you at the moment."

        I nod shortly. I decide to take advantage of this moment of solitude to observe the Rayne household.

        I walk to the living room and step out of the patio doors. A warm breeze brushes against my skin, the sun gleaming against the fresh morning dew, prompting the dying grass to appear more lively. The backyard is not enclosed--it is simply a small patch of grass surrounded by other houses like this one. Nothing extraordinary, except the poor condition all is in. The morning atmosphere is refreshing. I return indoors.

        What are you doing?

        Sommer stands directly in my path so that I nearly trip on her, holding her notebook like a shield in front of her. Her hair is twisted into a large ball on the top of her head, her face painted pale. She frowns at me.

        "I was simply exposing myself to the fresh air," I state, slightly nervous at her presence.

        Where's Jagger?

        "He has left briefly to obtain nourishment for breakfast."

        She steps away from me. I proceed toward the front door, silently hoping for Jagger's return.

        Are you going to school with us?  Sommer steps in front of me.

        "School?" I question. I contemplate this. "In all honesty, I do not believe that would be logical."

        I do not see Jagger. I proceed to the dining table and take a seat. Sommer follows.

        Why not?

        "I believe I would be highly recognizable. My language skills are far too advanced."

      I take note of a thin magazine on the table that I did not observe previously. I flip through the pages.

      I think it would be fun. She grins at me viciously.

        "What if I am recognized?"

        The book appears to be a classic graphic novel. The hero, standing proudly, chest extended, is dressed in red and blue.

        "I have had a vast amount of media coverage recently," I add.

        No one will notice. We'll give you a fake name.

        She takes the graphic novel from me, looking through it. She leaves it open on a certain page. The dark colours and dramatic onomatopoeia words introduce the villain.

        Lex. She grins, I have reason to believe with ill intent. We'll say your name is Lex.

        "May I ask why you are so adamant to introduce me to your peers?"

        She scowls. I thought you'd want to do this for your research.

       I lean back in my chair. She studies me intently.

        "Hey!" The front door swings open.

        At Jagger's return, I realize I have been holding my breath.

        "Morning Sommer." He eyes both of us suspiciously. "What's going on?" Sommer shrugs.

        He places various Styrofoam containers of edible items on the table, along with a few plastic forks. I open one. The oils from the foods seep through the container and leave residue on my fingertips. I glance at the tubes of fried meat and pancakes soaked in liquefied sugar, a breakfast far from my typical nutritious meals.

        "Breakfast is served."

        He takes a seat in between Sommer and I, eyeing the magazine. Sommer slides her notebook in front of him.

        "Lex, huh?" He glances at me. "What do you think, Metro?"

     I glance at the both of them with great suspicion.

     "Although I believe attending your educational institution would be highly intriguing and beneficial for my research purposes, I have come to a conclusion that the both of you wish to make me appear foolish in front of your peers."

     "What makes you say that?" Jagger appears genuinely concerned, slicing the fried batter with the side of his fork. I pick at my food.

     "With all due respect, unless your classmates are complete fools, it would be extremely obvious that I am not belonging to this community. I do not believe that any amount of practice could prepare me for direct interaction with a Class C individual."

     "Have a little confidence in yourself," Jagger says, grinning. "The most important thing is that you look the part. I'll do most of the talking. Just remember to stick with one-word answers and don't enunciate like I told you, and you'll be just fine."

     The thought of attending a Class C learning institution has invoked a great curiosity within me, I must admit. And in any case, I have already separated myself from my home and I could not retreat now if I desired to; is there any worse loss I could suffer? However, I am not convinced beyond reasonable doubt that I am not being taken as a fool.

     "Alright," I mumble.

     "What?"

     "I said 'Alright'," I speak clearly. "If you truly believe I am capable."

     Sommer slides her notebook across the table. I knew he'd give in eventually.

     I believe I shall regret this decision in the near future.