"Hi."
A brown-haired boy appears in front of her, smiling widely. She looks up from her seat, frowns, and turns back to eating her food.
"You're the only girl here," he states, sliding across from her.
"No shit. Who are you?"
He holds out his eleven-year-old hand. "Thomas. And you?"
She leaves his hand where it is. "Name's Siren."
"Like a mermaid?"
"Like your ass."
"Oh. What do you mean by that?"
"That you should leave me alone."
"I don't see how my ass and leaving you alone and a mermaid are all connected."
The girl's jaw clenches. "Just leave. That's exactly what it means."
"I like your logic," he states, and plops down in front of her as if he didn't just hear her words. "Tell me more about it."
"I— what? I just told you to leave!"
"Ohh! I thought you were just explaining what my ass and a mermaid together meant."
A groan leaves her mouth. "You're dumb."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm not."
"Yeah, you are."
"Well, you're rude."
"You're a little shit."
He gasps. "You're an idiot!"
The grip on her knife tightens. "You didn't just say that to me—"
"Hey, where are you from?" Quickly, Thomas changes the subject. "You have a little accent."
"Australia."
"Wow! How is it there? I've never really been anywhere around the world but here."
"I don't know. I was three when Dad found me."
"Where's your Mom, then?"
"Dead."
"Oh. Sorry to hear that." He looks down with a sad look in his eyes. "My Dad threatened my mom and I with a knife. He had the Flare. Got violent. I was crying when they took me here. Five years old."
She hums, interested in knowing the stories but uninterested in carrying more pain. "Did they make you take another name?"
He tenses. "Uh— yeah."
"What was your name before?"
And now he panics. "I'm not allowed to say that."
"Why not?"
"They'll do it again— let's move on—"
"Do what again?" She straightens her back, curious.
"No, nothing," he murmurs.
Hesitantly, the girl lies a hand on his arm. "I promise I won't tell anyone else. They won't know that you're telling me your old name. I swear on my life."
He slowly looks up again. "He injected a stimulator. I tried to stick with my real name, but he'd give me pain."
"Torture?"
"Basically," he says, tone low. "I didn't want to be named Thomas. But it was all for nothing in the end. All the torture."
"What was your name before?"
After he looks around to check if no one's eaves dropping, he leans closer. "Stephen," he whispers. "What was yours?"
"My name has always been Siren. Dad alwuas calls me hermana, though. I don't know what Mom and Daddy called me."
He frowns. "You have two daddies?"
"Dad's not my real dad. His name is Jorge. But he was the one who found me stranded in Australia. He's been a better Dad than my actual dad. I barely remember him."
Thomas nods, intrigued. "Nice. How long have you been here?"
"Not long. They took me away from Dad a few weeks ago. They never took Bren. I don't know why they didn't— they took George a few years ago! He's Bren's brother. Do you know him?"
He shakes his head. "No, sorry. Also—"
"Hey, arm off." She gives his hand on her skin a pointed look. "No touch."
"Sorry. Anyways, I'm not allowed to be in the cafeteria with the others, but my friends are. Want me to introduce—"
"Why aren't you allowed to be there?"
"Teresa and I are never allowed to be anywhere. We go to our room, classes, project, room. I meet up with my friends in a cleaning room."
"Isn't that just awesome luxe."
He cracks a smile. "Why are you eating dinner in the hallway, though?"
"Why not? I don't like crowds. And boys. Honestly, I don't even know if I like you."
"I'll make you like me. Eventually, you'll grow to love me!"
She scoffs. "Yeah, sure. Also, are you a crackhead? You look a little... dazzled."
"There's a great smell that does make me feel like I'm on drugs." A pause. "I started smelling it the second I was in your space."
She scoffs another time, rolling her eyes. "At least I now know I don't stink."
"Yeah," he laughs. "Well, Siren, I'll go now. Before Randall gets me. See you!"
"Bye, Thomas," she mutters, then turns back to her food like nothing ever happened.