Freaks

18 • locked, unlocked

Leaning in slightly, he adds, "You can trust Logan too. He's just a bit of a weirdo."

"Heard that," Logan says, though not looking particularly offended.

He offers me a lazy smile while he rustles up Markus's hairdo as he walks by, settling into the chair behind him. He lets out a bit of a half-laugh when he notices the scowl that forms on his friend's face.

Moments later, our World History teacher, the elderly Ms Grahams walks into the room, quickly prompting stragglers to return to their seats.

While she greets the class and allows a brief conversation entailing what everyone did over Christmas, I turn to Markus and in a low whisper, say:

"I get what you mean, Markus," I begin cautiously. "If there's anything I need to get off my chest, I know I can come to you guys. But I meant what I said about the Valerie thing. I'm worried."

All the while, Markus had kept his gaze trained forward, but now, he glances at me. His forehead creases and in an equally low voice, he confesses, "I think we all are..."

It's the most troubled I've ever seen Markus look where Valerie is concerned, considering their not-always-amicable history together. Though before I can respond, I am cut off by Ms Grahams clearing her throat.

I quickly revert my attention back to the front, realising Ms Grahams is finally ready to begin teaching:

"Over the winter break, I urged you all to do some background reading on this semester's topic, World War Two. What I didn't tell you was that most —if not all your research will have elements of untruth to it. Which brings us to today's lesson, verifying sources..."

❧

"And that's why you are worried? Because she is your friend?"

I narrow my eyes at Professor Horowitz, unsure as to what he was getting at.

"Um, yes?" I reply.

Today marks our first therapy session of the year. After spending some time reviewing the results of my latest check up with Doctor Soho (Professor Horowitz sends me a knowing look when he reads the part about my 'lightening eye colour'), we quickly move on to the object of my current worries—Valerie and her sudden disappearance.

"When's her birthday? What's her favourite colour? What type of songs does she enjoy listening to?"

I open my mouth, ready to reply. But then I falter.

"I... don't know." I frown. The questions weren't deep, they were banal and for anyone else, would not have required much thought. I could answer the question for Andrew or Willow or Markus or even Logan and Cass to an extent... but when I was around Valerie, she rarely talked about herself. I didn't even know whether she had siblings or who she lived with when she wasn't at the DA.

"What about family?" Horowitz continues, as if latching on to my thoughts. "Favourite food? Hobby?"

"I don't know," I repeat quietly.

"So how can you call her your friend if you don't know anything about her?" Horowitz questions. Before I get a chance to reply, he says, "Do you want to know what I think? I don't really believe it's this Valerie you're worried about. It's something else to do with her."