Chapter Text

I was nervous. It was dark out, after ten, and the time had come for me to get ready to go. It might surprise you that I’ve never snuck out before. I mean, maybe not. I really am the overly responsible type. But I’m still sixteen. I torrent movies, I watch porn, I’ve shoplifted before. But I’ve never really needed to push boundaries or rebel.

Maybe I have exceptional parents, that gave me space when I needed it. I didn’t have much to rebel against. My mom and dad had always kinda balanced my responsibilities with my independence, and since I was thirteen, I was treated increasingly as a grown-up. I had the alcohol talks, the drug talks, and of course the sex talks. They were invested, they expected me to behave, but they didn’t rake me over the coals when I made mistakes.

And maybe I’d just adjusted to the shit that happened to my friends. When Loren disappeared, I remember having nightmares for months in third grade that my mom wasn’t going to be there when I woke up. It seems selfish, I know. I mean, I know it didn’t happen to me, but at eight years old, the fact that something bad even could happen to my parents was new. When you’re a little kid, your parents are these infallible characters, and seeing my mom fall apart, crying over her friend, I didn’t have the emotional framework for that at eight. I wasn’t supposed to, obviously, but it impacted me that something bad happened to my friend, that bad things could happen, and that my own parents couldn’t do anything to fix it.

And then six years later, I was at a funeral with my best friend crying beside me. Again, it wasn’t about me. But it still affected me. My relationship with Marco changed a lot in the last two years, and I think as Marco became increasingly independent out of sheer necessity, so did I. We were each the closest friend the other had.

I think that was where a lot of my straight-and-narrow personality comes from. I put a huge value on stability, I guess. I’m sure my mom’s psych books had tons to say about that. But I know how much a little stability mattered to Marco and Tobias.

At any rate, Marco’s mom was alive the last time I ever shoplifted. And I wasn’t an impulsive sixth or seventh grader anymore. So I was nervous about sneaking out, even if I wasn’t going to be human when I left. But being nervous wasn’t going to stop me. I wasn’t thrilled with it, but it was my responsibility.

The last few hours had been mostly uneventful. When we left Cassie’s and dropped Rachel off at her house, Marco and I had gone to PetSmart. Sure enough, they had a lizard that was perfect for our needs. The only real glitch to the plan is when I acquired the lizard and it went into the usual torpor, well, the handler thought we’d hurt it. Which meant that Marco didn’t get a chance to acquire the lizard and that put vent duty entirely on me. I knew I should’ve made him go first.

Then I’d dropped him off and come home. I ran my laundry, and suddenly realized I’d let Elfangor’s blood soak into my Friday work uniform for almost thirty-six hours. But to my great relief, it turned out that Tide and a generous addition of Shout were sufficient to remove Andalite blood, so that was a minor crisis averted. I suppose if it had come to it, I could’ve just said I spilled grape soda or something, but I was happy I didn’t have to order a replacement uniform. I’d spent enough on the camera that I didn’t want to get my next check docked.

And I’d knocked out my English paper. I wasn’t really big on it, though getting it done was a load off. What was really funny about it - or ironic anyway - was that this morning I hadn’t been able to concentrate because of all the other questions in my head. But now that I knew I was breaking into the school, I was suddenly way more interested in the distraction of homework and laundry. Anything so I didn’t have to think about what I was doing that night.

From there it was the normal Sunday dinner with the family, watching some TV with Tom, though honestly he seemed rather bored through most of it. He spent most of the episode checking his phone and texting. He said it was volunteer stuff for The Sharing, which I actually took to mean he was texting a girl and didn’t want to talk about it.

But the hours ticked by, and I’d gone upstairs, got a shower, brushed my teeth, put my clothes in my dresser, put my homework in my backpack, and then shut my bedroom door.

It was just about time to go, and I wanted to test the lizard morph before I flew to the school.

I left my clothes folded on my bed, awkwardly standing in my boxers in my bedroom, and tried to clear my head. I didn’t bother to close my eyes this time. I just concentrated on the lizard. Morphing the raccoon had felt like falling. This felt like I was bulleting down to the floor. The lizard was so much smaller, and the shrinking effect was so much more intense. My skin hardened, the little hairs of my arms absorbed into the skin as it cracked into scales before turning green. My eyes bulged out as my skull changed shape, my jaw jutting forward and filling with so many more, small teeth. The tail was the last to form, shooting out from my spine as I fell forward on my lizard hands.

My room was huge. I couldn’t even really see the far wall from here, it was like the other side of my room was the opposite side of a football stadium. Much like the raven, the lizard was also able to see ultraviolet, and that was a very weird thing. There’s not exactly a lot of ultraviolet light at night, but it was still a plus to seeing in the dark. The biggest issue was at this scale, distance was harder to judge. I perceived a few yards like I’d normally perceive a mile, and it took me awhile to get a handle on the visual information.

For a second, I thought maybe Cassie had been wrong about the lizard brain, but I soon learned the only reason I had default control over the body was because there was nothing going on in my room. But when Tom walked by the door to his room, and the lizard felt the giant vibrations of his footfalls through the floor, it was on. I was under my bed before I’d realized I was running. Dark was good. Need to have cover. No open spaces, no open spaces.

It wasn’t much different from the raccoon’s instinct, really, but it was magnified like a thousand-fold. The raccoon brain hadn’t been afraid, it just was nocturnal. It wanted to find somewhere safe, and sleep out the daylight hours. But the lizard brain lived here. This was the default setting for the lizard. My tongue flicked out sporadically, tasting the air, trying to maybe get a beat on some bug or something. It’s brain was wired for nothing but survival, which was both simple and complicated.

The simple part was that the lizard had only a handful of thoughts in its whole repertoire. Cover from predators, food and water, find the warm, maybe a nice female lizard, and watch out for other dominant males. The complicated part was that those instincts were bolted in place. The lizard mind wasn’t designed to wonder. It wasn’t the kind of animal that asked questions or parsed its place in the universe. It just wanted a juicy cricket, a hot rock, and to bump cloacas if the opportunity presented itself, and to not get eaten between those three tasks. And anything that wasn’t one of those thoughts just didn’t matter.

It took some mental effort to get the lizard body to move. The lizard didn’t want to move. It was all about conserving energy. And it wasn’t that warm in my room with the window open to the May breeze. Moving wasn’t useful, and the lizard wanted to sit still, maybe follow the smell of spider. But moving for the sake of moving was just irrational.

Bit by bit, though, I got the hang of it. I was basically constantly telling the lizard brain that there might be food this way, and the body reluctantly went along with it. Reptiles aren’t known for their metabolic prowess, and while the lizard could be quick as hell if the need arose, it preferred a much mode lackadaisical speed.

I demorphed to human and morphed to raven again.

We’d done a bit of wing flapping and hopping earlier, but it occurred to me suddenly that we should have done more in the way of flight practice. I hopped to my open window and looked out into the backyard. I was on the second floor, and twelve or fifteen feet to the ground looked a lot higher when you’re less than two feet tall. The raven’s first instinct was to judge distance, and I had no problem with that. Birds have very good eyesight, but the eyes can’t move in their sockets, so I found myself bobbing my raven head up and down, turning and twisting. I didn’t know how to fly. But I was reasonably sure the raven instincts did.

I flapped my wings hard and pushed off the windowsill. Once I was airborne, the raven took over, and I was on the wing.

The raven’s mind made dozens of minute adjustments to my wings, my tail feathers, scanning, and for a few minutes, I made no effort whatsoever to direct the body. I let the raven teach me how to fly first. When I was reasonably sure I wasn’t going to hit the ground, I took over and was surprised by the autonomy. I guess it made sense when I thought about it. I mean, I didn’t exactly throw a ton of brain power at walking. The body just does it. It took me awhile to get my bearings, but I soon made out Walnut Street below and followed it south to the high school.

Our school is actually a collection of buildings, but the main school is a three-storey rectangular, museum-like building. It’s oriented in a northwest-southeast direction, with a quad to the south, separate buildings for the cafeteria and the math and science departments. As I got closer, I saw two other ravens and a red-tailed hawk waiting on the roof in the rear corner of the main building, behind the solar panels by the vents. I was the last one here apparently. The raven instincts were not pleased about approaching the hawk, but I suppressed the urge to veer away. I fought the temptation to scream “Nevermore!” in thought-speak as I landed. It seemed crass, and besides, I was like ninety-nine percent sure that Marco had already done it.

<See?> Cassie said, <Jake didn’t say it.>

<Yeah, but he thought about saying it. And the only reason you didn’t say it was because you got here first.>

<Alright, I’ll give you that,> she said.

I ignored them. <Tobias, you got the bag?> I asked.

<Yeah, I got it,> he said. <It was a bitch to fly here with it, though.>

Tobias had a small leather pouch, containing the camera, my cell phone, and a few other implements. We knew that a red-tail hawk could carry a rabbit, so the logic was anything under the average weight of a rabbit, about three pounds, should be hawk-ready. And the bag had been under three pounds. Cassie had weighed it.

<It was too heavy?> I asked.

<Not as such, just the hawk didn’t want to carry it. At least with a rabbit, you can eat it. This was just work for the sake of work, and every hawk instinct was to just let it go.>

<Well, I appreciate you keeping the payload safe. I hope you were waiting long enough to get a break, ‘cause we’re going to need you to carry it in.>

<Yeah, I figured. Cassie got here right before me, about fifteen minutes ago. Marco got here just before you did.>

<Okay, Marco. Is the window open like you thought it’d be?>

<Yeah, Tidwell always leaves the window open.>

Mister Tidwell was perhaps the oldest teacher at our school. He was actually kinda funny, and he taught American history and civics out of a third-floor classroom in the southernmost corner. The window overlooked the science building.

<One of you guys is going to have to open the window wider,> Tobias said. <I’m not going to fit through that gap.>

Marco, Cassie, and I all took off and circled the building. It didn’t take long to see what Tobias meant about the window. Our raven morph had a wingspan of about three feet, maybe a little larger, and Tobias was easily wider in the wings by about a foot. But as it turns out, when all is said and done, we weren’t that much smaller in raven morph than he was in hawk morph. Luckily these were the kind of windows that opened outward, so Cassie simply perched on the top edge of the window before ducking into the classroom. Marco followed, and I was last. The raven instincts didn’t really like this maneuver - birds in general seem to be a bit on the claustrophobic side - but I got in without much trouble.

The three of us all crowded under Tidwell’s desk. There was only enough room under here for one of us to demorph at a time, and Marco had the first leg of this mission. He began to grow quickly, the black feathers giving way to his bronze complexion. I saw the same white spider on his shorts as before, and then almost as soon as he was human, he began shrinking again, the grey fur taking over his body. It didn’t take more than a few minutes for him to cycle from raven, to human, to raccoon.

<Tobias?> Marco called. <Can you still hear us?>

<Yeah, little fuzzy, but I can hear you.>

We had learned from Elfangor too late in our plan that thought-speech has similar range to actual audible conversations. We weren’t that far from Tobias in Tidwell’s classroom, but the ceiling above us seemed to be playing a factor.

<I'm headed to security. Going to be a few minutes, so hold tight.>

Our school had security cameras in the hallways and classrooms, so we had to stay under the desk till Marco went down to the security office downstairs and disabled the cameras. They were on a simple closed-circuit TV system, and they were mostly to record students during school hours than they were to deter break-ins or vandalism, but we couldn't exactly leave them on for this.

Unlike the aborted Best Buy plan, this was easy. The security room was on the first floor, near the utility room, and Marco just needed to flip a few switches.

It left me and Cassie alone together under the desk while we waited. <So,> I said awkwardly, <did you maybe want to go to the dance?>

Her thought-speech giggle was adorable. <Our first real date, and you're gonna ask while we're hiding as birds? And I thought Rachel said you can't dance.>

<I can't,> I said. <But do you want to go?>

She seemed to think that over for a few minutes. Finally she had an answer. <No, I don't want to go to the dance.>

<Really?> I asked.

<Yeah. I mean I did a week ago, but after that kiss in the barn, I realized something.>

<Oh?> I was trying not to sound apprehensive, but I was terrified she was going say something bad.

<I don't need to go to the dance to be happy. I just want to be with you.>

That floored me. I would have kissed her if I could.

<I'd much rather go to the movies with you or the Boardwalk and just hang out than go through all the awkward drama of having to get a dress, listen to soft rock hits from the Nineties, and have our teachers yell at us if we dance too closely.>

I could respect that, and it made me feel a lot better. But a thought hit me. <You're not just saying that because you know the dance makes me uncomfortable, are you?>

<Maybe. But I'm not lying, either. I do like hanging out with you.>

I laughed. <I appreciate that. But if you want to go to the dance, I can be uncomfortable for a few hours if it makes you happy. I'll even buy the dress.>

<You really are such a thoughtful goober, Jake,> she said. <I think it's what I like best about you.>

“Guys,” Marco said softly, “I don't mean to ruin your bonding time, but the cameras are off.”

Embarrassed, Cassie and I demorphed rapidly. I was wearing plain black bike shorts after my shower. Cassie was wearing the one-piece swimsuit from earlier. While we were mid-morph, Marco opened the window all the way and Tobias swooped through, setting the pouch on a desk, where Marco picked it up while Tobias demorphed.

We all went downstairs quickly. Like I said, the building has something of a museum-like design. The street-side face of the building has Corinthian columns and a sprawling multi-level staircase. Because of the stairs, the main entrance and the administrative offices of the school were all on the second floor, with the first floor being a level down from the entrance. It was the second floor we needed to access.

We found Chapman's office easily enough, but of course it was locked. That would've been more of a problem if I didn't have the super handy lizard morph. I sighed, morphed, and slid under the door, then immediately demorphed again and unlocked the door. My friends followed me and Marco opened the pouch. He set the camera and my phone on Chapman's desk. Then came the screwdriver we figured we'd need to open the other vent. And then he took out the last item: a spool of kite string.

While I morphed back to lizard, Marco tied a small loop in the end of the string. The lizard brain was comfortable enough in the dark, but wasn't so thrilled about all the giant legs in the room. I took about a minute or two to figure out my bearings then skittered across the floor of Chapman's office. I reached the wall and suddenly the horizon rotated upward a hundred eighty degrees as I went from the flat floor to the vertical wall. The weirdest thing about running up a wall was how little that distinction mattered to the lizard brain.

I stopped at the vent. <Alright, Marco, let me have it.>

He held out the little loop of kite string and I gingerly put my left arm or leg or whatever through it. And then I steeled my nerves to the best of my ability and slipped through the slats in the vent, dragging the string along.

The string was meant to serve two functions. First, it was incredibly dark in the vent and while the lizard wasn't terribly concerned about the lack of light, we had some real concerns about getting lost in the vent. If I got lost or disoriented in here, I could always follow the line back and try again. And second, once I came out somewhere else, Cassie or Marco could follow the line to the end of the vent and place the camera.

But right now, I was in a pitch dark aluminum corridor and all I could do was walk forward. Surprisingly, the lizard morph didn't fight this proposal. Dark was good. Darkness meant shelter. I should note that no matter how well the lizard could see in the dark, there was no light in here whatsoever, but that was fine, because my flickering tongue was picking up the airborne scent markers that said there were spiders in this place. And as long as there could be food, the lizard was fine to wander the darkness.

My biggest concerns right now stemmed from the fact that I couldn't perceive distance very well, and therefore had no real concept of how far I was going. Like I said, I couldn't see anything. But I could feel the metal along my clawed limbs and my tail, I could feel the air currents moving over me. And here and there I felt the seams in the aluminum ducts. I counted those as I went through.

I suddenly felt the air currents shift and I realized the vent had come to a vertical intersection. I could either go up or down, and I chose up for no particular reason. My lizard feet were able to grip the metal easily and soon I felt the vent level out again. I had to be on the third floor by now, so this was going well so far.

But then it happened.

My tongue caught more scent, and I could feel the motion more than I could hear it. The lizard brain turned and bolted, like it had thrown a switch. I felt my jaws open and snap shut. I felt the mass in my mouth, heavy, moving. There was a sickening wet crunch as my jaws autonomously worked open and shut, forcing the spider down my throat as it valiantly, violently, and futilely fought to escape.

By the time my human mind had caught up to the reality of the situation, there was nothing I could do. The lizard didn't have a gag reflex and there was no way to spit it out. It was like swallowing an entire plate of crab legs raw, shells and all, while being hit in the face. And worse, I could still feel it moving and fighting as it slid down my throat.

I blanked for a few minutes. The lizard wanted to be still so it could digest its prey. And I wanted a minute to try to process what had just happened. Simply put, the lizard had certain instincts that just weren't going to be capped just because I was exerting human intelligence. It was a reflex. I couldn't have stopped myself from eating that spider anymore than I could stop a sneeze as a human. Rationally, that made sense. But it wasn't a whole lot of comfort and I was very eager to get the holy hell out of lizard morph.

It took me about another fifteen minutes, give or take, to find another vent cover. I slithered out easily enough, emerging into a classroom. It was dark, but the light coming through the window was exponentially brighter than the vent had been. It was difficult to tell where I was and I just made my way to the floor as quickly as possible. The sooner I was out of lizard form, the better. The duct ran along the wall, right below the ceiling. There was probably a name for it or something but I'm not an HVAC expert. All I know is it was a little bit of a hike to the floor.

Once I was finally on a level plane, I backed out of the kite string loop and demorphed. When I was human, I had new problems. The nausea I couldn't experience as a lizard hit me abruptly and I had to breathe slowly to let it pass. I didn't want to throw up. Partly because I didn't want to admit how much the spider snack had disturbed me, and I wasn't above a little masculine stubbornness. But mostly it was the pragmatism that I just didn't want to have to run down to the janitor closet to scrub up my own vomit.

When the feeling passed, or at least lessened, I went downstairs. I had recognized the classroom as Missus Zeuhlke’s English class. She was my English teacher last year, so I knew my way around from here. I was hoping we'd get this over with quickly.

I think I gave all my friends a minor coronary when I came back through Chapman's office door. “Jake, damn, don't sneak up on a girl,” Cassie said breathlessly.

“Sorry. The line is set, goes from Zeuhlke’s room on third down a drop and back out. The lizard didn't have a problem with the vents, let's hope the raccoon goes as smoothly.”

“You okay, man?” Tobias asked. “You look a little...off.”

I sighed. “The lizard found a spider in the vent. Reflex.”

“Eww. You okay?” Cassie asked.

I shrugged. “I'll be fine if we never bring it up again. C’mon, let's get this set.”

Tobias grabbed my phone and the screwdriver and the four of us went back up the stairs.

It was Cassie that volunteered for the next part, since Tobias had carried the bag, Marco had hit the cameras, and I'd run the guide wire.

Marco and Tobias carefully moved a desk under the duct and Tobias hopped up and unscrewed the vent while Cassie morphed. She shrunk down to raccoon in just a few minutes, and in the dim light of the windows, the transformation was creepier because I could really only make out her silhouette.

Cassie let me pick her up and I tied the end of the kite string around her paw.

<Are you petting me?> she asked.

I looked down. I was. I had just started petting her like she was a dog or a cat. “Sorry, I guess nervous energy.”

<Home stretch. We should be out of here before you know it.>

We checked the camera, made sure it was on, made sure it had a good connection to the school’s wireless network, and made sure that my phone was receiving the signal. We set the camera back in the pouch and set it in the vent, and then I carefully lifted Cassie up so she could reach.

She wiggled around a bit getting a handle on the pouch. “Please be careful, Cass,” I told her. “Watch the drop; I don't want you getting hurt.”

<Got it.>

And then she vanished into the vent, following the kite string. I saw the flash of her striped tail, then only black.

We watched the feed on the phone. It was only darkness at the moment, but we could hear intermittent noises, the little pops and bangs as the weight of the raccoon ran along the metal. We could hear her claws clicking around the ducts. There was suddenly a change in the metal noises, and a slight bang, and then the noises continued. She'd already gone past the drop.

In a few minutes there were other rustling noises and suddenly the image on my phone went bright and we could see the slits of the vent from Chapman's office.

It occurred to me that we needed to be able to talk to her so I went back to the principal's office. I was thankful we hadn't locked it yet. I really didn't want to go back to lizard morph again if I could help it.

“Cassie?” I asked the darkness. “Can you hear me?”

<Yeah, Jake. How's the picture look?>

I sat down in Chapman's leather office chair. It felt comfy. I looked at the phone and looked to see where I was in the shot. I waved my arm and realized suddenly that we weren't going to be able to get a really great angle of the desk. “Try a little to your left. Okay, stop there. Can you twist the camera just a bit back the other way?” I could see just the top of my head and about a third of the desk. But I had a really good view of the door. We weren't going to have a great view of what he was up to, but we were at least going to know if he left the office. I turned in the volume and checked out the volume. “Testing, testing.”

<Look at you, sound tech engineer.>

“It's not perfect, but it's the best we can do,” I said. I cut the kite string with my teeth and told Cassie to head on back. I grabbed the spool off the desk and made sure we didn't leave anything behind. I locked the door and pulled it closed behind me. I got upstairs just in time to see Marco gently pull Cassie out of the duct.

I used my phone's light to help Tobias screw the vent cover back into place. We pulled the length of string and rolled it up. I dropped the string in the pouch, and then my phone and handed it to Tobias.

Marco told us to get out of here while he went back to turn the CCTV system back on. Tobias went first, since he needed the window open the furthest. I pulled the window back to where I thought Tidwell had had it and Cassie and I went back to ravens.

It was just shy of twelve thirty, and I was bushed. But I perched on the roof and Cassie waited with me. <You wanna make sure Marco's out before you go home, don't you?>

<Yeah, I want to make sure everything's okay before I go home.>

<Y’know,> Cassie said, <It occurred to me that raven morphing is like the ultimate morph for breaking curfew.>

<I think the Andalite technology has corrupted you,> I said. <I don't recall you being this bent on trouble a week ago.>

<Honestly, I'm kidding. I'm half-worried Mom decided to check on me and noticed I'm gone. I've, uh, never snuck out before.>

<Me neither,> I said. <Fly you home?>

<Aww, that's sweet.>

We watched as Marco burst out of Tidwell’s window and flew off. If he noticed us on the roof, he didn't say anything. He just wanted to get home and get what sleep he could before we had to get to school in the morning.

I flew into the night sky with Cassie right behind me. Ravens are pretty swift flyers, and bird morph was definitely way more efficient than driving. Granted, showing up in nothing but bike shorts kinda killed the practicality, but flying was still cool.

We didn't head straight to Cassie's place. First we swung by Chapman's. We landed in the tree Tobias had used as cover the last two days, but we didn't see Elfangor.

<It seems I have visitors,> his voice said.

We both hopped down a few branches and saw him sitting in the underbrush. He was unmorphed, resting in his natural Andalite form. It was dark enough that he didn't need to hide behind an Earth species or risk getting trapped in one.

<Yeah, it's Jake and Cassie,> I said.

<Your plan has gone as expected?>

<Well as we could've hoped,> I said, trying not to sound pessimistic.

<You've done well,> he said. <I cannot begin to express my gratitude for all you have done. I could not have asked for better human allies.>

I didn't know what to say to that. Cassie had a bit more grace. <We're honored, Elfangor.>

<Tobias should have left my phone on the roof of the school, next to the vent,> I said. We weren’t totally sure the range on this. In theory, I think it was the kind of camera that as long as it was on, you could check from your phone, like if you wanted to check on your nanny while you were at work, or whatever. And I told Elfangor he could move if he wanted to, but I wasn’t sure the raven morph could carry it, and Tobias had done enough. <You should be secluded enough on the roof to be able to demorph if you need to, but…>

He got the point. <I will stay in the osprey form as long as possible.>

<There's a clock on my phone,> I said lamely. <Assuming you can read Earth time.>

<I appreciate the concern, but the morphing technology is not as dangerous for me as it is for you.>

<Oh?> Cassie asked. <How so?>

<Andalites have an inherent sense of time. We do not require timekeeping devices as you do.>

Well, that would have been handy. But all I said was, <Oh.> Then another thought hit me. <You'll have audio tomorrow, too,> I said. <We can see part of his desk but the surveillance angle isn't great. Still, you can see the door so you know when he leaves the office.>

<I am afraid,> Elfangor said, <that auditory information will be of little value to me.>

That puzzled me. <Why do you say that?>

<I do not understand your human language, Jake. I only understand you when you are physically with me and I am able to perceive your brain functions as you speak. I will not discern meaning from sound alone.>

<Well, that blows,> I said.

<Indeed.>

<Is Rachel still here?> Cassie asked.

<No,> Elfangor answered. <She was here for approximately one hour, but left shortly before you two arrived.>

<Did she see anything?> I asked. I was curious about the basement as well.

<She said only that she was unable to reach the sublevel as she had intended.>

<I see,> I said. <Well, I wish we could talk more but we have to get some sleep before school.>

<You're not going to get any sleep at all, are you?> Cassie asked him. I immediately felt foolish for bringing it up. Elfangor was going to watch Chapman's every move from now till tomorrow afternoon when we got out of school, at least another fourteen hours.

<Do not fret, Cassie. I am a soldier and I have endured worse. And truth be told, the day is longer on my home planet, approximately forty-three hours. I am having more issue adjusting to your planetary cycles than I am with sleep deprivation.>

<Well, I now feel a hell of a lot less guilty telling you that I am exhausted.>

Elfangor laughed and we said our goodbyes. We had done all we could for now, and tomorrow was out of our hands until school was out. I flew Cassie home as I'd promised. We didn't talk much; we were both too tired. To her relief, there were no cop cars outside her house. She flew into her window, and we exchanged our own good-byes.

I flew in my bedroom window and demorphed. I shut my window and went to the bathroom.

I threw up.

There was no build-up or prelude to it. It wasn't sudden either. I just walked into the bathroom and saw the toilet and almost consciously decided to wretch. It was as if I'd put all my physical revulsion on pause and had just clicked play.

I brushed my teeth again, took two shots of Listerine, drank a glass of water, and went back to my room to collapse into oblivion.