Genealogy was a required credit.

I had to constantly remind myself that fact as my eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion. Beside me, pencils were furiously scribbling down every word Mr. Johnson breathed but mine remained limp in my hand. It was a struggle enough to not bow my head into the crook of my arm and simply, relax my poor, bloodshot eyes. By some miracle, I had managed to stay awake for the first half of his mutinous speech. I couldn't understand a word he was saying but at least I was awake.

"Ms. Macintyre?" I aroused upon hearing my name. My slumped posture immediately became as stiff as a board as I stared into the narrowed eyes of my teacher.

"Y-yes?" 25 pairs of eyes bored into the back of my skull, waiting for me to mess up. And as usual, I did not disappoint.

"I asked how many genes exist within within human genome." Mr. Johnson rested his arm against the podium and closed his eyes tightly, as if ridding himself from a headache and then looked back at me.

"How many genes?" I blinked. Then, I began to sweat. I scoured my mind for an answer that I knew was not there and then after five seconds of repeated blinking and sweating, Mr. Johnson sighed.

"Ms. Addison would you like to help your friend," His inquisitive stare moved to Nicole, who sat beside me.

Nicole Addison could give the energizer bunny a run for its money. She was a petite girl, with a heart shaped face and bouncing onyx curls. Her child-like stare never failed to amuse me. To Nicole, everything was interesting. Even the most boring things, like watching paint dry or genealogy class could give her something to talk about and it was for that exact reason, I was not at all surprised to see her ready for questioning with her textbook cracked open on her desk.

"The human genome, on average, consists of 20, 000 genes," She rattled off in one breath.

"Correct," said Mr. Johnson. "And how many genes exist within the other genome?"

"26,000."

Crossing my arms over my chest, I slumped back in my chair and waited for the battle of wits to begin. This was a daily occurrence, Mr. Johnson would pick a student and then grill them on any, given topic until the student was left flustered and incredibly confused. The class kept score and Mr. Johnson awarded extra credit to the top three students. I held an impressive score of two whole questions and while that sounded satisfactory to me, Nicole managed a score of 33 and counting. It was disgusting. If not for the fact that I had been with her the day she received her blood test results, I would have swore she wasn't human.

"Correct again," the edge of Mr. Johnson's lips lifted. "Now, Ms. Addison can you remind the class why we study genes in the United States?"

"Well," She swallowed the lump in her throat and shifted in her seat uncomfortably. "A long time ago, like all the way back in 2052, the United Nations passed the Human and Other Specimen control Act. Um, it was mandated that all countries must test their citizens at the age of sixteen to determine if they were human or if they had the other gene. And-"

"And?" Mr. Johnson prompted.

"And we study genes because they control who we are now and who we will become."

My nails bit into my skin as I curled my hands into tight fists. Mr. Johnson opened his mouth once more, whether to expand on that point or continue with his questioning, I had no clue. The bell chose to ring in that moment, effectively silencing any word he had left to say. Gathering my books into one hand, I pulled Nicole to her feet with the other and rushed out of class. She told me to slow down and tried to wriggle her arm free from my grasp but I didn't stop until we were at our lockers.

"That is going to leave a bruise," said Nicole while inspecting the red marks on her forearm. "What is wrong with you, Phe?"

"Me? Nothing," I jammed my thumb onto the scanner of my locker. The monitor read my print and the door swung open with ease.

"You can't just say 'nothing' as if you haven't been acting like a crazy crack addict for last two weeks. You're constantly twitching, you never sleep anymore and I think I've seen you eat maybe, at most, like ten bites of food?"

I rolled my eyes. She was being dramatic, I slept and I ate. Just not as much as I used to. And it's not like anyone could blame me or expect me to continue on with life as if there wasn't a giant sword dangling over my head. This was all part of the process though- the fear. There were other kids in school acting just like me, crumbling under the heat of anxiety as their judgement day quickly approached. Even Nicole, who was so quick to critique me, had been a mess the hours before her birthday. I vividly remembered the phone call I received at four in the morning; she was sobbing on the other line.

Slipping my books into my bag, I slammed the locker door closed and turned to Nicole. Her face was pinched together as if she had just tasted something sour.

"What day is tomorrow?" Nicole asked, slowly putting together the pieces of the puzzle.

"The 12th."

She gulped. "Oh, Phe. I completely forgot."

Nicole might have been the smartest student in Darwin but that didn't mean she wasn't privy to being an occasional idiot. She had a habit of forgetting things. Nothing too serious, just hair clips, pencils and the birthday of her supposed best friend. But I couldn't really blame her, she was the president of student council and captain of both the chess and debate team. Her life was like a bullet train set on a pre-programmed track towards her destiny and it was not going to slow down for anything or anyone. I think, if I had the energy to maintain a life like hers, I too would forget.

"Everything is going to be okay," she placed a hand on my shoulder, "Nobody in Darwin has ever had-"

She trailed off and both of us knew why. "I mean only one person in Darwin has ever had the gene. It's a one in a one tenth chance, Ophelia. You have nothing to worry about."

That one person had a name. A name that was once shouted down the halls with glee but now, could only be heard in hushed whispers. Asher Foxx. Three years ago, Asher Foxx was at the top of his game. He was the golden boy of Darwin, Montana; volunteering at local animal shelters on the weekend, while maintaining an undefeated record for the Junior Varsity football team during the week. The varsity coach was preparing him to take over the starting quarterback position for the following year and College representatives from all over the country had been intrigued by his impressive talents. Everyone adored him, at least, that was until he received his results. I had never met him but Darwin was a pretty small town, you didn't need to know a person to know their entire life story. By mid-day everyone knew that Asher Foxx, Darwin's first chance at something great, had been carted away to the nearest OSCF- Other Specimen Control Facility.

What had happened the day after was strange. Darwin had always been a seemingly quiet town but the silence that ensued was almost mournful. Nothing really changed. The children still went to school and the adults went to work. The teachers continued on with their lessons and the students took notes but a apart from the teacher's dull voice and the sound of pencils scratching against paper, there were no other noises. Nobody tried to gossip or giggle or tell a joke. Nothing. Perhaps the town was so perturbed by the loss of Asher because he was the first, or maybe it was because he was so charming and kind. But, I liked to believe it was because the day after his birthday was a Friday. There was a football game that evening and Asher, for the first time, would not be playing.

"Really, Nic. I'm fine." I was not fine, not even close, but having a heart to heart in middle of school was the last thing I wanted.

She wanted to say something else, I could tell from the way she opened her mouth but then closed it, as if thinking 'not now'. Hauling her backpack over her shoulder, she linked her arm with mine and offered me a closed-lipped smile. Together, we walked side by side through the sterile halls of Darwin High School. The boisterous laughter of my classmates faded to a distant buzzing sound as we reached the front doors. Our arms unlinked as we passed through the metal detectors, only to quickly reconnect as we waited at end of the sidewalk for the bus.

Just as the ugly, yellow contraption lumbered down the road, Nicole turned to me and said, "Spend the night at my house. You don't have to go through this alone."

Technically, if I spent the night at home I wouldn't be alone. My father, a professor at Montana State University did not believe in working a minute past five in the evening and my mother, a true christian wife, did not believe in working at all. And while Christine and Adam went to school Washington, they had made an unexpected trip home yesterday morning, for my birthday. So I wouldn't really be alone, not the in the technical sense.

"Let me think about it."

——————————————

Later that night, I laid sprawled on top of Nicole's paisley duvet as she dug through her closet. A glass tablet sat between my hands, as I paged through a lengthy tabloid article. I pushed one finger in my ear as a dreadful moaning sound emitted from Nicole's razor-slim phone, resting on her vanity. The estranged voice belonged to a young teen heartthrob who was trying, and in my opinion, failing, at an attempt in the music industry. Nicole begged to differ. Though, I couldn't see her as she was swallowed within the mounds of clothing, I could hear her humming along to the campy tune.

"Found ya," She cheered.

Untangling herself from the countless shirts and pants scattered on the floor, she hid two articles of clothing behind her back and tiptoed over to the bed. I glanced up from my tablet and quirked a brow. There was something about the smile on her face that twisted my stomach. It looked awfully similar to the deviant smile of a child who had just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. I quickly realized that I was not going to like whatever was hiding behind her back.

"Before you say no-"

"No," I cut her off.

Her bottom lip slipped into a pout. "That's not fair! You didn't even hear me out."

"That's because the last time you got that look on your face, I was almost arrested." I tried very hard to repress that memory; it wasn't one of my best moments. The cop had been kind enough to let me go but I was no longer allowed to buy fireworks in the state of Montana.

"Ok, trying to send the school's mascot to space with a firework jetpack was a little dumb," she admitted, "But this is different. I got a holo-message from Barry Schniber-"

"That's even worse." I dropped the tablet onto the bed and threw my arm over my eyes.

Barry Schniber was a senior and a apart from his dad being the mayor of Darwin, there wasn't much else to say about him. I didn't have a problem with Barry, he was nice enough but he did have a penchant for trouble-making. The kid had too much money on his hands and spent most of it on shoes and wild keggers. In a in small town like Darwin where there was only one stoplight, one grocery store and one movie theater, Barry's parties were infamous. The parties weren't planned, they happened on a whim or whenever Barry was bored. He kept a long list of people from school who he deemed to be 'worthy' of a good time and when the party was ready he'd send out a series of holo-messages- their invitations. I had never received one but it didn't surprise me that Nicole had managed to weasel her way into Barry's friend group.

"Hear me out, Phe." She sat across from me on the bed, with the secret outfit still tucked behind her back.

"Tomorrow is a big day. It's a scary day, I won't pretend it's not. None of us can know, without a doubt, what will happen."

"Thank you, Nicole, I feel so much better," the sarcasm dripped from my tongue like sour molasses.

"I'm trying to help you. Tonight might be the last night of life as you've known it, do you really want to spend it sulking in my bedroom?"

Nicole's words were like acid to my ears. It burned but only because I knew it was true. I didn't dare to admit that out loud but she saw the resolve crumbling in my eyes and released a shriek of joy. The outfit, she had previously been hiding from me, was suddenly thrusted into my hands as she stood up and spun around the room. My eyes bulged at the sight of the sequined tube top and leather pants, in my hands. I had never been to a party before but surely, they had to wear more clothing than what Nicole had given me.

"Do you even know where this party is?" My breath was shallow as I tried to stuff my lower body into the pants.

Part of me hoped the pants would cut off all circulation and my legs would just fall off and Nicole would have to rush me to the hospital instead. But after a full minute of squeezing and jumping and grunting, I managed to fit. When I turned around, Nicole was waiting for me with her head cocked to the side as a smirk tugged at the edge of her lips. I probably looked hilarious, like a graceless chicken pretending to be a swan.

"Heh," She covered her laugh up with a cough and grabbed her phone off of the the vanity.

Her fingers glided across the screen and seconds later, three beams of light filtered from the camera, creating an image. It looked like a factory, one of the old ones from the early twentieth century, where the people worked in the assembly lines instead of machines. The brick walls looked to be eroded and the windows were shattered and the roof had collapsed. It looked very... dangerous. But from the stories I had heard over the years, I knew not to expect anything else from Barry.

"This is going to be great!" Nicole placed her phone back on the vanity. The tight, velvet dress she wore left little room for pockets, or for breathing.

She took my face between her hands and scrutinized every freckle and blemish on my skin. Insecurities crawled into my mind as I tried to pull away but she told me to stop being a baby. It wasn't fair, I thought, to be constantly subjected to the likes of Nicole who looked like some filipino ballerina. I, on the other hand, looked like a carbon copy of my mother. My hair was the lovely shade of a copper penny- after it had been stepped on a few times. My skin was so pale it made Casper the ghost look tan and my eyes, while a perfectly normal shade of brown, were deep set and stretched too far apart on my face. Perhaps that space was practical though, if only to fit the lightbulb shaped feature on my face that I called a nose.

"You're beautiful Phe. In that sort of unique way," Nicole interrupted my pity party. She retrieved her phone and plucked a tube of lipstick out of her collection of makeup. "But a little gloss never hurt."

Chiffon Pink, read the label. I hated pink.