"This way," Ms. Mason said, leading us through another dimly lit corridor, the second turn we made from the auditorium. "This is the Hall of Excellence."

I stifled a laugh at the name, but looked around the hall. Portraits of former chancellors and prominent graduates dotted the walls— a President, Supreme Court Justice, and general in the army among the myriad recognized. Oddly enough, Ms. Mason did not have a portrait...yet.

We took another turn, and she announced our arrival to the science wing. I peered inside an open classroom, to be greeted by a skeleton holding a welcome sign. Ms. Mason flicked on the light. Posters with the stages of mitosis and meiosis were hung on the bulletin board at the back of the room.

"This is Mr. Winnings' room. He's the biology and Human Anatomy teacher. If you're lucky enough to have him, he'll be one of your favorites."

A thick, navy curtain blocked the window. Ms. Mason flicked the switch and the room grew completely dark. I lifted the cell phone to peek at the time, 7:35. San Antonio had another hour until sundown.

"How is it so dark in here?" I totally got that the curtain blocked much of the light, but there should have been a haze around it.

Ms. Mason smiled. "I paid for all the windows to be tinted with a special polymer to block the sun. The curtains absorb anything the polymers fail to catch."

That sounded great, but what would happen if a student pulled the curtain? I asked the question since the risk that the sick could come into contact with one of our greatest allergens was still present.

"The curtain is only there for added protection." Ms. Mason sighed then began walking across the classroom. Once she arrived at the window, she tugged on the curtain. "The polymers won't fail. They come with a twenty-year warranty."

The room was still completely dark with the curtain pulled. I removed my sunglasses to have a better look and smiled. I would not have to wear this snowsuit in class.

"What about gym? Is it held outside?"

"It's too hot to have it outside right now, but Summerhaven has a state-of-the-art gym and pool. No, you won't be able to play soccer on the field, but we have the equipment to hold all the sports, with the exception of football and baseball, indoors."

Dad and I gave satisfied nods. It seemed the school was trying its best to protect us from our allergens. That was a relief. But what were they doing to protect the Healthy from us?

She led us back into the hallway and pointed out the math and social studies wings. When we arrived at an exit near the corner where the two wings met, she opened the door and ushered us into yet another corridor. I held my breath as the heavy scent of fresh paint wafted through the air. We walked along the carpet and Ms. Mason apologized for the smell. Construction on the new corridor had been completed only two weeks ago. Apparently this one led to the residence hall and it provided a means for the Sick to access the school without the danger of sun exposure.

"Seems you've thought of everything," Dad said. He smiled but did not make eye contact with her. Was he as intimidated by the movie star as I was?

She turned to face us, light dancing in her huge, brown eyes. "I'd like to believe so. This has to work if we want any chance of other schools opening their doors to the Sick. You guys have been so oppressed in the eight years since the general population became aware of the disease. It isn't your fault you succumbed to the virus. Why shouldn't you receive the same opportunities as the healthy? I'm just glad Summerhaven and San Antonio were kind-hearted enough to do the right thing, even though it might not be popular."

She certainly had her lines memorized. But the kindness was hers. The news had published that the anonymous donation had a stipulation that half the money be used for scholarships and to revamp the school so it could accept students afflicted with the virus. All the administration had to do was make attendance a possibility and so far they'd held their end of the bargain, or it seemed that way. Would the school have "done the right thing" if ten million dollars hadn't been attached to it? The "right thing" was never to let us enroll in the first place. It was like trusting a hungry dog to watch your dinner and expecting the dinner to still be waiting on the table when you returned to the room. Possible, but unlikely, and you really couldn't blame the dog for being a dog.

Ms. Mason looked at me expectantly. "Yes, it was kind of them, but really kind of you, ma'am."

"Oh, please don't 'ma'am' me. It makes me feel old. Just call me Drea."

I was on a first-name basis with a movie star. At least this sickness had some perks.

"Well, thank you for your help in giving us this opportunity. I hope we don't disappoint you."

She tilted her head. "Why would you disappoint me? The Sick are harmless once they've had time to cope with the disease, and with the invention of Synthetic, you're no risk to us."

We used Synthetic in public. In private, it was a whole other story. We drank what we wanted, how we wanted, and too often the unsuspecting victim was oblivious to what was occurring. It disgusted me, but Synthetic was the nastiest concoction I'd ever tasted, and it merely sustained us. Fresh was what we needed to quench our omnipresent thirst. I learned the hard way that we needed Fresh every so often. Otherwise, the repercussions were deadly.

I wanted to ask her if she seriously believed we were no threat but decided it might not be the wisest idea, that it would essentially be biting the hand that fed me.

Dad cleared his throat. "Not sure I'd say they're harmless, but I've survived living with three of them for eight months." He turned to me. "And I know you won't be a problem. You've got it under control. The school has stocked Synthetic. You'll be fine."

Of course, he couldn't speak for the other students. Or the fact that I'd lost control in the past and one of my friends....

"Here we are," Drea said as she opened the door to the residence hall.

The noise level increased as we stepped inside. I quickly dodged a woman carrying an armload of boxes. As I flattened myself against the wall and noticed Dad and Drea doing the same, a man wielding a large suitcase nearly dropped it onto our feet when his eyes met the movie star's and she greeted him.

Everyone was carrying suitcases and boxes in a mad dash to unload their vehicles before the reception. It was completely nuts. Three hundred kids trying to move in at the exact same time, with only about forty-five minutes to do so. I shook my head at the three-ring circus all around me. I shouldn't be surprised that the school conducted their move-in in this way, the city was well known for having drivers make three turns in order to go straight at an intersection.

If I was going to complete the list of the items Dad needed to pack for me, I needed silence, and it wasn't going to be found here. It was a sure bet my room would be equally as loud. I didn't want to start off on a bad note with my roommate.

"Drea, is there a quiet place where I can write out my list?"

"Good point. Let's get your key first so I can show you to your room, and then I'll take you to the study lounge. It should be fairly quiet there," she said between star-struck parents greeting her.

It took us an extra five minutes to arrive at the student lounge between all of the autograph requests. Inside, the room was quiet. A middle-aged woman sat behind a table stretched in front of a leather couch. She promptly rose from her feet and shook Drea's hand excitedly as the movie star introduced herself and me.

Matilda shook my hand. "I'm the hall mother. My office is located on the first floor, across from the study lounge. Which room are you in, Ivy?"

I peered down at my schedule, 212. She handed me a key and I promptly placed it on my key ring between the house key and the key to my Fiesta. "Am I allowed to have a car on campus?" I asked.

"I'm afraid not, dear. We do have a shuttle that will take you to the malls and tourist sights on pass days." Noting the frown on my face, she said, "You'll find that it's not really necessary here. Your time will be fully occupied with studies, extracurricular activities and socials."

Splendid. But were those activities carrying on through the wee hours of the night? What were they going to do when a hundred Sick kids came at them because they were bored...and thirsty?

Matilda shifted uncomfortably in her spot, her heartbeat quickening by the second. I took a step backward and she relaxed.

"I'm not the most social of people, but I'm sure it'll be great," I lied.

"Well, you've got a good roommate, one of the most popular students on campus. Catherine will show you the ropes, and in no time, you'll have so much to do, you won't even miss the car."

"I'm sure," I said, trying to convince myself more than her, and then I turned to Dad and Drea. "Okay, I'm ready to see the dorm room. Hopefully, I'll have a good idea of everything I need after that."

Confusion crossed Matilda's face and I gave her the Cliff Note version of what had transpired. She rummaged through her briefcase and pulled out a checklist of items we would need to have. Clothing and toiletries had run through my mind, but I hadn't thought of my pillow, sheets, and comforter, nor would I have thought of a semiformal dress. I thanked Matilda and we returned to the hallway to dodge students and parents again.

When we arrived to room 212, the door was open and a blonde-haired woman was inside, eyeing the two beds. Her shirt was low-cut and it clung to her boobs.

She jumped as I walked inside. Her lips pursed. "You must be Ivy." Her tone was unimpressed, but her frown quickly upturned when Drea said goodbye to me.

"Yes, I'm Ivy. Are you related to Catherine" I checked for the last name "Garcia?"

"I'm her mother, Elise. She should be in with the last load soon."

My dad struck up a conversation with her as I looked around the room. Suitcases were strewn across both twin beds and boxes were stacked along the walls. A leather backpack with cute floral embellishments and two handbags (one of them with a gold stagecoach emblem on it) sat atop the dresser beside the door. A small flat-screen TV was on the floor and a mini-fridge was plugged into the wall. On the opposite side and built into the walls were two desks that each held three shelves above them and a drawer below. The closet was fairly large, but I looked at the amount of boxes and surmised there wouldn't be much room for my belongings once Catherine's were unpacked.

I took a deep breath and listened as Elise told Dad that she was the go-to person for everything San Antonio. Her father had been mayor of the city while she attended Summerhaven and her husband was the current mayor. Once they were at a break in their conversation, I pulled Dad aside and reminded him I still needed to make my list. With that, we left the room and went downstairs to the study lounge.

The beige sofa barely gave as I sat down. I reached into my backpack and removed a ballpoint pen. It took several scribbles to put ink onto the paper and several minutes for me to form my thoughts.

I wanted all my clothes, makeup, jewelry, shoes, and books. Realistically, there wasn't enough space for everything and I still had to pick up my uniforms tomorrow. Guided by the checklist, I wrote my list fairly easily. I also came up with a few items he needed to buy, along with my size, and prayed he'd get it right. With a gulp, I handed him the list and watched as he stuffed it into his pocket.

"Please don't lose it, Dad," I pleaded. He was notorious for losing grocery lists en route to the store. He wouldn't be able to call me begging for what I could remember off the list. Well, unless he forgot to take my cell phone. I wasn't planning to remind him of that tidbit.

"I won't, honey. And I'll have everything to you as early as I can. Your mom can work on this tonight and I'll do the shopping when the mall opens in the morning." He glanced at the clock situated on the back wall. Our forty-five minutes were almost up.

I felt my shoulders droop. A tear worked its way down my face. I blotted it away, but another soon replaced it.

A month! The longest I'd ever been away from my parents was the long weekend they'd taken to Vegas last year for their twenty-fifth anniversary. I'd felt those four days were never going to end. And this time, I hadn't gotten to say goodbye to Mom.

"We're only a couple miles away, Ivy, and we'll check on you as we can." He pecked my forehead. "I guess I'd better have that cell phone now."

I fished it out of my purse. With a wistful look, I turned it on and looked at the screensaver. It was a picture of the four of us, right before we got sick in Florida. We were standing with Mickey Mouse in front of Cinderella's castle, and each of us wore a grin worthy of being in a toothpaste commercial.

Sighing, I handed the phone to Dad and said, "I love you. See you in a month."

After he entered the stairwell and waved goodbye, I left for my room.

The hallway congestion had died down considerably. Most of the doors were open as students feverishly unpacked their belongings. All of the students I'd seen still wore snowsuits, so it seemed this floor was only for the sickly.

When I got to my room, a girl was seated on the bed with a cell phone up to her ear. My smile faded to a frown as I took in her pink snowsuit with its blinged "Summerhaven" on the back and "Cat" on the front.

Just my luck my roommate would be the same snotty girl I'd met in line. I wondered whether I'd be able to request someone else. At this point, I would prefer Attila the Hun.