OCTAVEUS DREAM
I WAS sitting on a couch, but there were multiple things wrong. First, I was wearing a dress. A pink, strapless dress. It was made of surprisingly comfortable fabric, though I really didn't like how short it was. I mean seriously, how do girls stand wearing dresses that ended mid-thigh? I leaned forward a little, closing my knees and holding the top of the dress up. Second, I wasn't alone in the room. The cute Asian boy was standing in front of me on the couch, a smirk twitching the ends of his lips. He was wearing skinny jeans and my Fall Out Boy jacket. He stared at me, his cheeks tinted red and his brown eyes bright with amusement and something else. . . 'He loves me,' I realized with a start. I felt a sudden surge of fondness for him before realizing that he was slowly moving toward me. (I guess I was too busy making sure that the dress didn't fall down; not that I wanted to wear it, I just wasn't wearing anything else, and I sure as hell didn't want to be naked.)
He got a dreamy look on his face as he sat close next to me on the couch, the side of his leg rubbing against mine. I tried to look away, but I was lost gazing into his deep brown eyes. We stared at each other for a second before the Asian boy swiftly leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine.
    The kiss had started as a peck, but it deepened as I pulled him onto me.
Suddenly my heart jumped, jolting me.

OCTAVEUS
I woke abruptly, throwing the comforter off of my bare chest and screaming, "HOLY ——!"
I sat up in my bed, my heart racing. 'What the hell was that?! It was one thing to fantasize, but that was a whole new level of weird. For one, WHY WAS I WEARING A DRESS?!' I mean, I knew my mind was messed up, but I didn't know it was that messed up!
Panicking for a second, I quickly made sure that I wasn't actually wearing a dress. Nothing but sweatpants. Thank God that was only in the dream.
I took a deep breath to try to calm down and checked the time. My alarm clock read 5:30. 'Good,' I thought. 'I would not be able to fall asleep again after that dream.'
I got up and started getting dressed, putting on a black tank top with a realistic-looking skull on the front and black jeans, going out into the kitchen afterward to get food, trying to forget the dream. (And the party going on in my lower region.)

• . . . . •

As I limped up to the front doors of Northside, I was greeted by Micah and Summer, along with some of Summer's other friends. I felt a light breeze blow through my hair; I had donned a light black zip-up hoodie before I'd left the headquarters. The hoodie was made of thin fabric, so it wouldn't have kept out a lot of wind, but I couldn't even feel the light breeze.
    "Hey, Vee," Summer greeted me when Micah and I walked up to her. I smiled at her momentarily. She noticed that her other friends were watching me curiously.
    "Vee, this is Audrey and the other Katie," she said. "Audrey and Katie, this is Vee."
    I smiled at them. The other Katie had long orange-red hair and brown eyes, which seemed like an odd combination to me. Then again, I have black hair and yellow eyes, so I shouldn't be talking. She was wearing a maroon V-neck shirt and jeans, and looked to be about five-foot-seven-inches. Audrey had shorter light brown hair and blue eyes, and was wearing a light grey sweatshirt and navy blue leggings. She was wearing little silver owl earrings.
    "You're the new guy," Katie commented. "You transferred from France, right?"
    "Uh," I said, unsure how she knew. "I moved, yeah."
    Summer sensed that I was uncomfortable and said, "One minute until the bell. We should head to class."
    "Alright," I said.
    Summer led me and Micah into the school and down the hall to the Health hallway. Summer and Micah got there first; I had to stop by the office to let Grace know I was there.
I limped toward the classroom at the far end of the Sophomore's Health hallway and hovered by the door uncertainly for a moment. The teacher-- Mr. Harrison, according to my schedule and the little sign next to the door-- was passing out worksheets. The board behind him said something about how over exercising effects different muscles. I didn't really care enough to read the whole message.
The teacher saw me hovering around the doorway and quickly finished passing out the worksheets, gave the entire class an instruction to find a partner-- preferrably of the opposite gender— then walked over to his desk and beckoned me to follow. I limped into the room and went over to his desk as he found a paper set aside on the desk and read a little bit of it in his head quickly before addressing me.
"I'm Mr. Harrison," he said, holding a hand out for me to shake. He had really short brown hair and startling blue eyes. "Just out of curiosity, how far advanced are you in health topics?"
Oh, yeah I think I forgot to mention; I skipped sixth grade. I should've skipped straight to eighth after fifth, but the one thing that kept me from skipping two grades was my limp. My PE teachers were worried I wouldn't be able to keep up with Phys Ed activities if I skipped from fifth grade to eighth, so I skipped to seventh and they put me in all advanced classes-- besides Health and PE, obviously. (PE and Health went together, I couldn't get advanced in Health and not PE, so they just kept me in the average class for my grade.)
"I don't think I'm very advanced," I said slowly. "The only reason they kept me back was my PE grade."
Mr. Harrison chuckled lightly. "You're modest about your smarts, I'll give you that. Well, if I say anything that you already know, feel free to block me out. Just don't distract other students, or fall asleep." He smiled warmly at me, handing me one of the worksheets. Then he waved over one of the pairs of partners. "Summer and Micah, would you mind catching Octaveus up on what we've been learning about?"
Summer smiled at me while Micah was literally pacing in circles. 'Talk about ADHD,' I thought, watching him pace three full circles around Summer.
"Sure," Summer said to Mr. Harrison. Mr. Harrison patted my shoulder.
"Summer and Micah will catch you up on what we've been doing. Try not to block them out too much, please, if you already know."
Micah started bounding toward the other side of the room as the other students walked out of a door at the back side of the room. Summer followed him, beckoning me to follow them. I limped after them and out into the cool October air.
Summer and Micah walked up to the  crest of the small hill next to the school. I hurriedly limped to catch up to them and stood near them on the crest of the hill.
"Okay, so I have a question," I said. "What is up with this street name?"
Summer laughed.
   "I'm serious, who builds a school on Satan Street?"
"I dunno," Micah laughed as well. "The Grim Reaper?"
    We laughed, and Mr. Harrison glanced over at us. "Get to work you three."
    I nodded at him, all three of us hiding our laughter.
    "Okay," I said in an attempt to get back on topic. "So what is this sheet about?"
    "We're supposed to study how different exercise affects different muscles," Summer explained, her laughter subsiding. "We're supposed to do each of the things listed on the paper and think about how much strain is coming to the muscles being used, and which muscles are being used in the first place." She glanced at Micah, whom had started walking in circles again, and shook her head, then looked down at her sheet of paper and read the list. "Oh, God." She said after reading the list twice. "Vee, you're gonna have to do this one."
"Which one?" I asked, looking at her paper, then realizing that I had an exact copy in my hand. 
"Number five," she said, pointing to the paper. "It's only if one of us is capable of doing it without hurting themselves." I read the list on my own paper.
"So. . ." I said. "I need to put one of you on my shoulders? I don't know how this can get any more awkward, but okay."
"You're not the only one," Summer said. "The other guys are glad to be allowed to do this."
I glanced around, noticed that she was correct, and shook my head. "That's wrong."
"What do you expect, we're teenagers," Summer said, but it wasn't exactly a question. She told Micah to stop pacing.
"You have to pay attention to this, okay?" She said. Micah nodded curtly and saluted.
"Yes, ma'am. Will do ma'am."
Summer rolled her eyes and turned to me. "Let's get this over with."
I put my hands on her hips and lifted her over my head, setting her down to sit on my shoulders. She almost immediately started slipping off and wrapped her legs around my neck. I quickly grabbed her knees so that she was no longer falling and therefore no longer choking me with her feet.
"Jesus, Vee, how much can you lift?" Micah asked in awe after Summer had stopped choking me.
"Summer's not that heavy," I said. Summer slapped my head, her face pink. "All I'm saying is it wasn't hard to lift you," I said in defense. "And to answer your question, about twice my weight."
"And how much do you weigh?" Micah asked, apparently not realizing that that could be considered rude to some people. I didn't mind it though.
"Two-hundred-fifty pounds," I muttered. Summer stared incredulously at me.
"Must be all muscle then," she said. "'Cuz you look like you weigh nothing!" I chuckled. That's what everyone says when I tell them that.
"Wait, hold on," Micah said, doing the math in his head. "So you're saying you can lift five-hundred pounds?!" Wow, he wasn't completely stupid.
"Roughly," I said.
"Wait, seriously?" Summer asked me. I nodded, gently lifting her off my shoulders and putting her down to stand on the ground again. "Jesus, you're tall," she commented after I put her down. "I feel tiny now."
"Man, I wish I was you," Micah said. "Five-hundred pounds. Unbelievable."
You can guess how the rest of Health went. Micah was making comments about how much I could lift, asking me how hard it was to lift certain things. Summer was in awe too, she just wasn't asking so many questions.
After Health Summer, Micah, and I walked down the hallway together on our way to Math and History. Micah pulled at the collar of his T-shirt.
"Jesus, why is it so cold in here?" He said to no one.
"I dunno," I shrugged. "I don't really feel cold very much. Do you want to use my jacket?" I added when Micah started rubbing his arms. He nodded and I took off my black zip-up hoodie and handed it to him. He gasped as soon as I took off the jacket.
"Woah, dude, your parents let you get a tattoo?" He asked, staring at my choroni tattoo. I sighed.
"Not exactly," I said, saying the same thing I always say when people ask about my tattoo. "Everyone in my family gets one identical to this when they're five."
"Oh," Micah nodded. "But it's still cool though. You're the only sixteen-year-old with a tattoo."
"Actually, I'm not sixteen," I said, bracing myself for the questions.
"You're not?" Summer asked this time. "How old are you?"
"Fourteen," I answered.
"Wait, really?" Micah asked in astonishment.
I nodded. "I skipped sixth grade."
"Great, now I'm even more jealous," Micah sighed. "You're fourteen, a Sophomore in high school, have a tattoo, and can lift five-hundred pounds." He looked at me. "And taller than basically everyone in the school. I wish I was you!"
'No you don't,' I thought to myself. 'You wish you were chronically depressed and suicidal? And have to hide your true emotions from everyone, even your family? Pfft, yeah, right.'
But I didn't say this to him though.