I stood outside my Science class, feeling more and more anxious by the second. Okay, part of it may have been that I sat next to Connor, who turned out to be worse than Jared, but better than Enzo. But for the most part, I was worried about my teacher. Mr Farsnic. You know, the one who secretly worked with the Clark Corporation and helped them kidnap me. That Mr Farsnic.

Yeah, you can see my dilemma. I would wag, but whenever I did that, my parents would always scream about how I was wasting my life, how I should've been grateful for my education, and blah blah blah. Granted, my parents weren't exactly around to scream at me, but that didn't mean Samara wasn't equally as terrifying to piss off as her brother.

The door opened and Mr Farsnic walked out. He had his usual cheery attitude, and the rest of the class seemed happy to see him. That shouldn't have pissed me off as much as it did because I will admit I did enjoy being in his class. However, that was before I found out how much of a psycho he was.

He seemed to be searching the two lines in front of the class for something. Or rather, someone. That someone being me. He eventually seemed to find me, after maybe two seconds, at the very back of the line. He let the students inside, and I tried to avoid walking in, I really did. But it's not like I could take forever to walk in without the class getting suspicious.

As I walked past him, I sent a glare his way. It wasn't necessary, but it made me feel slightly better that he knew I didn't like him. Although, I don't really think he thought I would after everything he did to me. It was just because it made me feel better, okay!

I sat down at the back of the classroom, next to Connor, and slouched into my chair, feeling more than a little annoyed.

"Okay, so it seems like most of you did well on the test," Farsnic started, pulling out a pile of papers, "but there were a few questions that got people confused, and I'm just going to go through with them so that you understand better when we start doing our exams."

The class groaned out. No one liked going through tests, but we did all like seeing what we got. I remember at Sacredooka, it was a competition between friends to see who got the highest score. I didn't know if it worked like that with all schools, but by the way some of the kids were acting with the person next to them, I would guess that it did.

Mr Farsnic started walking in the isles and handed students their tests, saying something every time he did. As he got closer to our desk, I could feel the anxiety bubbling up inside me. He had assisted in kidnapping me! And he was just going to walk past my desk, and drop a test off, making some remark about how I did! I didn't like it. The idea of him being in proximity to me was terrifying. Almost more terrifying than my dreams.

He dropped Connor's test onto his desk. "Maybe study next time."

He dropped my test onto my desk. "Ms Fickle, I would like to see you after class so we can discuss your grade."

My heart dropped. I would be in a room alone with this man! I looked at my grade quickly and scoffed at what I saw. 94.3%. Not exactly worth speaking after class about. It wasn't a bad result, so clearly, he was trying to kidnap me, again!

I was seething, and Connor's remarks weren't helping.

"So, what did you get?" He asked.

"I don't see how that's any of your business," I said through gritted teeth.

"Why so hostile?" Connor smirked. "You need me to teach you some things?"

I scrunched my hands into fists and didn't have to look to know the knuckles had gone white.

"I'm particularly good with the reproduction side of things," he commented.

I covered his mouth and grabbed onto his left hand, forcing his pinkie finger back until I heard a soft pop. He made an audible sound of pain; however, it was muffled and not loud enough to alert the rest of the class.

"You have nine other fingers," I glared daggers right into his eyes, "don't think I won't do the same to all of them."

I released Connor's hand and mouth, and he groaned out in pain.

"You crazy bitch," he spat.

I turned to face him, and he shrunk away. He cupped his hand and leant on the desk to create space between us. I was thankful. There had been times when it took a lot more than just a dislocated finger to sway them.

Farsnic started going over what the class did wrong, and what we seemed to do well on. It was terrible. Because I knew full well that very few of us did a terrible job on that test. There was a reason we were in the ATAR class. Although I suppose it put off having to do physics revision. Numbers just didn't make sense to me. Especially when people started including letters in equations. Like, when am I ever gonna need to know what x equals?

I watched the clock as it ticked, thinking that the hand was definitely moving too fast for it to have been a minute. It was almost like time sped up, and my impending doom neared. My heart hammered in my chest. My mouth went dry. My palms were slicked with sweat.

Five minutes until class ended.

My hands shook as I looked down to answer the questions on the handout.

Four minutes until class ended.

The class started to pack up, and I slowly reached for my pencil case.

Three minutes until class ended.

I shut my notebook, piling my other supplies on top.

Two minutes until class ended.

We all got to our feet and pushed the chairs in, under the desks.

One minute until class ended.

Groups talked quietly among themselves.

The bell rang, signalling for recess.

"You may all leave," Farsnic nodded. "But Ms Fickle, I need to have a word."

I sat back down and started twirling a pen in my hand to distract myself and hide the shaking. Farsnic made his way over. It felt like my heart was going to explode with how fast it was beating. What was he gonna do? Knock me out? Kill me? Kidnap me? Again.

He sat down next to me with a sigh.

"So, you are immortal then?" He asked in an annoyingly nonchalant voice.

I shrugged. "I guess."

"You sliced your throat open," Farsnic narrowed his eyes at me in curiosity, "I watched. You died. It took Terra fifteen minutes to come back. But it took you almost a whole day. How is that?"

I glared. "That's not any of your business."

"Ms Fickle, I'm not the bad guy in this," he claimed bravely. "Just think about it. If we could create that miracle cure, we could cure anything. Terminal cancer, AIDS, COVID-19, maybe even paralysis."

"You don't know that there is a way," I shook my head. "You didn't hear what they said."

"Richard said that they found a chemical in your DNA," Farsnic stated. "We could surely use that for our miracle cure."

"That chemical, won't save any lives," I spat. "They injected it into one of their lab rats and its internal organs melted."

Farsnic's eyes widened.

"Yeah, I don't think that'll be a cure for anything," I smiled triumphantly.

"But how are you immortal then?" Farsnic asked, looking dumbfounded.

I shrugged. "Guess you'll never know," I said. "But you shouldn't be surprised. You teachers are the ones telling us that introducing something to the body that shouldn't be there is bad."

Farsnic scoffed. "You sound just like her."

I raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Terra," he said. "You two are surprisingly alike."

"I am nothing like that bitch," I mumbled under my breath. She didn't tell me anything, she got angry over everything she thought I did wrong, and then she abandoned me and took Dad with her!

"Language," Farsnic said. "And that's exactly what she would say. You're both incredibly smart and decisive, you're both passionate, you're both protective, you both seem to have a way with words, you're both easily angered, and you both seem to have people falling at your feet just by looking at you."

"Shut up!" I pointed the pen to his throat, and he jumped back a little, eyeing the pen with slight fear.

"I'm not trying to poke the bear," he said, "trust me, I've heard the stories. What you can do when you bring two knives to a gun fight. What you can do with a ladle. I'm just trying to tell you that I'm not the villain."

"Sounds a lot like you're trying to justify kidnapping me and turning me into a lab rat!" I spat. "All villains thought they were doing what was best. Just ask Hitler."

"Really?" Farsnic deadpanned. "Comparing me to Hitler? I think that's a little unjustified."

I scoffed. Okay, maybe comparing him to Hitler wasn't the best thing, but I wasn't wrong. And besides, he was comparing me to my Mum, who just so happened to be his ex, so I could compare him to whoever I wanted to.

"I'm just saying," he sighed, "the similarities between you and Terra are uncanny. Even down to appearance. Almost like it's connected."

I shook my head and grabbed my things. This conversation was done. I was not going to listen to this perv talk about my Mum and make comparisons. It was weird! He was my teacher, and he was talking about his ex-girlfriend, talking about how much like her I was. It was seriously beginning to give me the creeps.

"This conversation isn't done, Ms Fickle," Farsnic called out.

"Yes, it is," I said, opening the door. "You legally can't keep me in for too long. Or would you like me to get the police involved. I'm sure they'd love to hear about how you held a student in to talk about how you kidnapped her."

He closed his mouth and went silent.

"That's what I thought."

I left and slammed the door behind me.

I quickly found my way to the PAB, looking for Zak and Ciara. But to my surprise, Ciara wasn't there. Her bag was, but she wasn't anywhere to be found. I walked over with a confused expression painted on my face and sat down next to Zak.

"Ciara's in the bathroom," Zak said. "So, you took a while getting here?"

"Farsnic held me in," I smiled with evident annoyance. "Wanted to have a chat about you-know-what."

Zak made an o shape with his mouth and nodded. "So... What did he say?"

"Talked about my Mum," I groaned. "Talked about me. I would call him a paedophile if it weren't for the fact that I knew he just wanted the cure."

"Who's a paedophile?" Ciara asked, coming out of nowhere.

"Mr Farsnic," Zak said without thinking.

"What, why?" Ciara took out a mandarin and started peeling the skin off.

"He held me in after class to talk about my test results," I said.

"And?" Ciara shrugged. "My Science teacher is always telling me about how I need to improve. But I don't know when I'm ever gonna need to know how nutrition works."

"Yeah, well I passed with flying colours," I sighed. "Apparently that's worth keeping me behind for."

"That's odd," Ciara admitted. "But Mr Farsnic is great. He's funny, he's not too strict, and he doesn't go on and on about the same thing for three lessons straight."

"Yeah, I guess," Zak shrugged. "I don't know, never had him."

"Different people, different experiences," Ciara said.

I popped a strawberry into my mouth with a confused expression. What did he mean by connected? What, was the fact that I was a temperamental, short, blonde supposed to play into my immortality? Because congratulations, that didn't make sense. Mors wasn't short or blond, and my Mum wasn't short. And then there was Jade, and how everyone seemed to think she was immortal. She wasn't blonde, and she wasn't all that short either.

And if being smart was a trait of immortals, congratulations, half of the world was immortal. Was my immortality connected to all of the guys constantly flirting with me? Maybe, actually. It was odd, and I didn't look like the idealistic girl. Being that I was something like one hundred and sixty centimetres tall, almost had no breasts, and absolutely no curvature to my figure whatsoever. People finding me irresistible when the only idealistic feature I had was my hair didn't make sense.

I was a little surprised that I'd never thought of it before. Throughout stereotypes surrounding immortal creatures, they're described as good looking, perfect, and seem to always have people falling for them. Granted, most of them also gave in to that notion and slept around, somehow not creating a pandemic of STD's or STI's.

I began to think back to everyone that had ever flirted with me. Most of them didn't really seem to have a reasonable explanation. Jared and I barely spoke, and we hated each other up until year eight, where he suddenly liked me, and my disdain grew. And Connor? From what I knew, everyone had said he was a sweetheart. A footyfuck, but also a sweetheart. There were a few that seemed a lot more reasonable, being that we had gotten along before the whole flirting thing.

And then there was Enzo. I didn't know how to really describe the relationship we'd had before the obnoxious flirting. Surprisingly, he seemed to be the only one with a reasonable enough explanation. We had been neighbours for our whole lives, so of course we'd seen each other a lot growing up. We'd gone to the same High School and had a few conversations. But I guess I always kinda hated him, because there was no excuse for murdering Mr Snuggles. I supposed maybe he made sense, but that didn't mean I had to like it.

Romance was kind of, meh. Unnecessary and distracting. So, Zak could suggest whatever he wanted about Gabe because, it was absolutely never gonna happen. Me? Romance? No, gross, ew. Not a combination I ever imagined for myself. And I understood that maybe that was a little odd, because I had thought Addison was the same, but nope! Turns out she was just as interested in romance and love as Ciara was into history.

Okay, maybe not as much as Ciara being into history.

But then an idea came to mind. It was the first time I was actually glad Ciara was a history buff. Okay, I didn't hate it, but somehow everything was political with her.

"Say," I started, "Ciara, what do you know about immortal creatures?"

Ciara spat out some of her drink and started coughing out, as it probably went down the wrong pipe.

"Ciara, you, okay?" Zak placed a hand onto her back.

"Yeah," she choked out. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. What makes you ask?"

"Um," I bit the tip of my tongue lightly, "just curious. Like, what sort of thing causes it, and what are its usual affects?"

Ciara nodded. "Um, well there are multiple meanings associated with immortality," she explained. "Sometimes it means you physically can't die. Sometimes it means only certain things can kill you. Sometimes it means you die and come back. And sometimes it means that you can't die a mortal death. So, like, it would have to be magic that killed you in some stories."

I nodded. "So, what kind of creatures are usually depicted as immortal?"

"Um," Ciara bit her lip, "there's undead creatures, like vampires, ghosts, zombies, and skeletons. I suppose there would be the gods and titans of Greco-Roman mythology. There would also be some Egyptian gods. According to some stories, things like witches, fairies, werewolves, mermaids, sirens, harpies, and some kind of hybrid creatures are immortal, or age slower. You could also argue that angels and demons are somewhat immortal. The wandjina's of Aboriginal mythology were depicted as immortal beings of life. There's also giants, cyclopes, almost any mythical creature has some story of immortality."

I hummed in response, trying to sort through the long list of supernatural and fantasy creatures to find out which one I might be. Of course, I could immediately take giants off of the list. And cyclopes, seeing as I had two eyes. But other than the very obvious, couldn't possibly happen, you'd have to be an idiot to consider, options were removed, it was still an annoyingly long list of suspects.

"Why did you spit out your drink when she asked?" Zak wanted-to-know.

I raised an eyebrow at Ciara, curious to know the answer.

"Um...," she looked down, "this isn't a comment on your friendship because you guys are great, but you've never really cared for my interests before. I was always embarrassed to talk about it because I thought I'd be annoying."

I felt a wave of guilt wash over myself, and when I glanced to Zak, I could see a sympathetic glint in his eyes. We never really had asked about her interests and hobbies before, as far as I could tell. Zak may have in the past, but it didn't seem like it from his sad expression. I had only known her for five weeks, but I still felt bad for not asking.

"I'm sorry," Zak said.

Ciara shook her head. "It's fine," she waved us off. "Besides, Jonda and I sit next to each other in Fashion and she's also really into history. Our year nine recreation of a Georgian gown made entirely out of plastic is in the library."

"George who?" Zak asked.

"You're into fashion?" I asked.

"Yes, I'm into fashion," Ciara chuckled, "but the history buff in me couldn't help but look into historical clothing. Anyway, the Georgian era is in the 1700s, if that clears it up."

"Oh," Zak snapped his fingers, "so the ones with the tall hair and manufactured hips for days?"

"I mean, that's one way of putting it," Ciara laughed. "But yes."

"The taller the hair, the closer to God," I shrugged.

Ciara laughed out and Zak snorted. It was nice, and I was glad we had this conversation. I didn't want Ciara to feel like her hobbies would annoy us. I made a mental note to let her go off on tangents about anything she wanted to, not just supernatural and fantastic creatures for my own benefit.