Sick

1: The Dark Ages

The difference between the Sick and the Healthy was painfully obvious as we parked Dad's Jaguar under a spindly, old oak to help shade it from the blazing San Antonio sun. With the car's console saying it was still above a hundred degrees outside, it wasn't a surprise the Healthy students showed their skin as much as possible without being obscene. Well, in most cases. With some of the girls there was a little too much cleavage or bra peeking out of their low-cut shirts and too much butt hanging out of the shorts, but what's a girl to do when it's so freaking hot outside?

And the Sick? 

I shuddered and sighed as I glanced down at my attire. The shortest of shorts and tiniest of shirts weren't a possibility for me anymore, at least not during the day and not outside.

Dad shifted in his seat and looked back at me. "Are you ready, Ivy?"

Umm. Is 'no' an option?

His pewter gray eyes, the same color as mine, shined as he smiled. "It's going to be fine, hun. You've got this."

I nodded my response, but the churning in my stomach reminded me how bad of an idea this new school was. Dad wasn't going to accept 'No, I'm not ready and never will be' as an answer, though. That was clear two months ago when he first initiated the conversation about moving here, when he first heard San Antonio was welcoming the Sick into their city.

I reached for the doorhandle, slung my backpack weighted down with a gazillion school supplies over my shoulder, and climbed out of the car into the sweltering Texas heat.

"Let me take that," Dad said. He grabbed the strap and hoisted the bag over his broad shoulder.

A laugh escaped me. Dad was easily twice my size, but I could hold my own in the strength department, Sick or not. The slam of a door cut off my objection and laughter.

"The school has assured me there are no dangers with having them here," a woman's voice said by the huge white truck parked a few spots up from us. I couldn't help but notice suitcases and boxes in the bed of the truck.

How nice. They're going on one final summer vacation before school starts.

"There's no way they can assure anyone of that. These monsters are dangerous, an abomination." The man captured my attention for saying something that rang true to me. Black and silver strands of hair peeked out from under a cowboy hat. He had the boots to match the hat.

"Will you stop?" The woman pleaded, as she jutted her chin in my direction. The man hushed, but he still wore a frown.

The passenger side opened and a boy who looked to be my age, seventeen, climbed out of the truck and began tossing the suitcases and boxes inside the cabin. Muscles rippled under his gray t-shirt with each movement. When the last of the boxes was inside and he'd come out from in between the cars, I was able to get a better view of him. His hair was black, skin dark, eyes the most vibrant of greens, and his smile was beamed straight for me.

Thank God he couldn't see my goofy grin, but it quickly downturned as I realized he was probably stifling a laugh at me. Heck, even I thought we looked hilarious.

"Come on, Zane," the woman ordered.

"He's my son, too, you know. It's not too late to enroll him in public school."

"Dad, I want to go here. It's my senior year and I'd be giving up a lot to go elsewhere."

"There's more to life than football," the man grumbled as he walked toward the gated entrance.

Not wanting to provoke the man, Dad and I kept our distance from them. Dad's expression had gone from confident in my enrollment at the school to conflicted. He tried to smile, but I could see the worry hidden in his eyes.