An elderly woman, with snow-whitehair and small-framed glasses, sat behind a small desk made from the same woodas the counter that partitioned us. Her posture was perfect and her legscrossed properly, as she focused typing at her computer. A name-plate that read“Mrs. Truance” decorated her desk, facing me. She glanced my way from the topof her spectacles and gave a little sigh.

“You must be Eden Matthews,” shedeclared more as a statement than a question.

“Yes, I am,” I choked out.

“Welcome to Kingsley,” she saidtersely. Mrs. Truance stood up gracefully and walked over to me with somesheets of paper in her hand. “Here is your class list and map of the campus. Itcan be quite confusing, so please ask for help if you get lost.”

“Thank you, I will,” I tried tosmile, but she had already turned away and headed back to her desk. So instead,I looked down at my class list and found my first hour of torture to beEnglish.

I shuffled through the papers untilI found a map of the campus. Junior AP English was located in the English andArts Building, which appeared to be two buildings east of this one.

“Please hurry, Kiran. I don’t wantyou to be late for our first day,” a peculiar accent and heavy footsteps mademe turn to see two figures walk through the brass double doors I had just comein. The bright sunshine illuminated the lobby; I was blinded for a moment asthe doors slammed for a second time. My eyes took a moment to adjust again.

“Stop worrying; I’m royalty for God’ssake!” barked the second voice with a strong, aristocratic English accent thatsounded irritated. As they walked closer, I could see that they were dressed inthe Kingsley uniform, and close to my age.

The first boy who spoke resembled agiant; he was at least 6’5 and extremely muscular. Good-looking with olive skinand dark hair, he seemed to speak with an Italian  or Spanish accent. He looked a bitrough, like he had been in a fight or two. He leaned toward the other in astrange way, almost as if he was bowing slightly. Although his eyes were a bitfar apart, they were deep brown, with glints of gold, and said something abouthim, but I couldn’t determine what they might reveal.

As I watched the two boys walkcloser, I eventually noticed the second one, who was almost overshadowed by hisfriend until he was nearly five feet away. My mouth dropped open as I looked athim. He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

Not usually the type to objectifymen, or even notice them at all, my reaction was almost as shocking as hisbeauty. He had thick, dirty blonde hair that was unkempt in a way that saidmovie star. He ran his fingers through it slowly, moving it away from hisforehead; I could swear it happened in slow motion. He had clear dark eyes, acolor almost indefinable. They reminded me of the ocean, aqua at first; but thecloser he got the darker they appeared. Suddenly they were turquoise andshining. A straight nose and perfectly full, but masculine lips completed hisface. I hardly noticed anything else as I stared stunned and bemused into hiseyes, eyes that happened to be staring back into mine.

“Excuse me, Ms. Matthews; you aregoing to be late for class if you don’t get going. Can you read the map, or areyou already lost?” the stern voice of the secretary pulled me out of mystupor.

“Um, no, I can read,” I said,sheepishly, still unable to take my eyes off the mysterious boy staring back.

“Of course you can read,” she saidsharply, snapping my entranced head back to reality. “Now, get to class.”

This time I obeyed, althoughhesitantly. I was thankful for my long hair, and let it fall in front of myface, hoping to hide my embarrassment. I could feel my tan cheeks burning withshame. As I started to walk past the eyes that had captured my attention, Ibegan to experience the strangest, but not-so-unfamiliar feeling.

My skin started to tingle as if Iwere being shocked a million times; my insides began to grow increasinglywarmer until I felt like all of my vital organs were energized from the sun.Instantly my blood began to warm and then rapidly heated to what felt like astrong boil. I picked up my pace and nearly ran out of the double brass doorsinto the fresh air, trying to catch my breath.

It was only the end of August, sothe sun was still hot and the humidity already overwhelming, despite the earlymorning hour. I pressed my face against the cool brick of the building, gaspingfor air and mentally calming my insides.

I realized that I lookedridiculous, but the physical changes that had just begun to occur in my bodywere usually a sign of pending destruction. Although I had never been sure ofwhy my body suddenly felt like a giant microwave, I could always be positivethat it would end in a great travesty. I pressed my face closer to the brick,allowing the shade of the building to cool me, calming the electrical impulsestingling beneath my skin.

I was officially humiliated by myerratic behavior. I was sure I left those inside thoroughly entertained andconfused. I was just thankful I was able to stop the electrical build-up intime.

The first time I felt the electricpulses underneath my skin I thought they were bugs. In the middle of secondsemester of my freshman year, I thought I had been attacked by a swarm ofinsects. During gym class, I began to freak out, feeling the creepy-crawlysensation of the electricity building slowly inside of me. I remembered my gymteacher rushing over to my side and then I remember nothing. Supposedly Ipassed out, but not before screaming something about bugs being everywhere.When I finally woke up, I was outside in an ambulance, surrounded by hazmatguys. Apparently my school had become thoroughly infested with tropicalinsects, the really big kind. Unfortunately, I had implicated myself in whatthe school board assumed to be a serious prank, and I was respectfully asked toleave.

 After pleading a pitiful case to the nextschool, I was allowed to begin my sophomore year on the provision of absolutelyno shenanigans. I lasted all the way through the year until finals week when Ifelt the electrical sensation again. This time I tried to restrain myself andget it under control; I wished only to wash the feeling off. Again I must haveblacked out because I woke up to find myself in another ambulance; the schoolhad flooded spontaneously. The school board did not ask so nicely for me toleave; but Aunt Syl forced them to give me passing grades by threatening alawsuit, since there was no substantial evidence that I caused the flood.

Last week, the beginning of myjunior year, I started my third prep school, only to experience what felt likemy blood beginning to boil. I was warned it was my last chance to finish highschool. Unfortunately for them, no one would be finishing anything at thatschool, since I magically burned it to the ground.

I couldn’t explain what happened tome; I just knew better than to mess around. The powers in charge at Kingsleymust have been brave souls to allow me entrance into their prestigious prepschool, or had taken out an unusually large insurance policy.

I was just glad I was able to stopit that time. I had never felt the impulses react so strongly. More than asweeping sense of unconsciousness, the electrical impulses had felt alive, asif they were reacting to something. Who knows what would have happened had Ilet them continue…. possibly the Apocalypse? I had no idea why those thingshappened to me, or what exactly they were. I just knew that I was always theone responsible for something catastrophic. And I was seriously hoping to avoidclosing this school down for good.

I turned around, so that my backwas to the wall, slid down slowly to the ground, and closed my eyes. I wasutterly unconcerned with being late for class after all that; I had biggerthings to worry about, like ensuring there was still a class to go to.

I compelled my nerves to calm down,and started slowly to relax. I forced my muscles to loosen up, mentally flexingthem. My relaxation only lasted a second, though, as the AdministrationBuilding doors burst open. The two boys, from before, exited the building inmid-conversation.