Abrupt ringing pierced through Miren's ears as she bolted awake. She winced as she extended herself upright. Desperately, she ripped the headphones out of her ears like a plug on an outlet.
Still heaving, she let her eyes scan over the absolute black environment. Her only source of light was the dim rays of morning soaking thorough the lining of the windowsill. A yawn erupted from her throat and tiredness washed over her, hanging over her head like a cloudy haze. But a lot of things were cloudy these days.
She proceeded to shut off her alarm clock with a much gentler click of her index finger. She then began to soothe her throbbing ears as she stared into the dark abyss in confusion.
Where the hell am I? And why was I wearing headphones? Rubbing night's inevitable crust from her eyes, she sat there for a while. But as quick as the alarm clock had woken her up, the realization struck her.
Jeno.
She had made the decision to wake up early so she could transform in time.
An alarm clock blaring through the air would have woken him up. So if she connected it to her headphones—it was all making sense now—he wouldn't be disturbed.
She would just lose her hearing.
She made a mental note to reduce the volume next time before lightly jumping to her feet, her flannel pajamas skimming along the ground. The bathroom was closest to her bed, which meant that she didn't have to pass through the sleeping boy. However, she couldn't help herself from turning toward his direction.
He was a silent sleeper; it was almost as if he were dead. The way his body was still, unmoving underneath his sheets, unnerved her. That was until he released a lazy yawn and shifted into another position.
What do you know? Miren smiled, before turning her direction to the bathroom. Jeno is alive.
But cold, she concluded, shutting the door lightly behind her and flicking on the light. She squinted at her reflection in the over-illuminated space.
In a pathetic effort to stay awake, she hunched her tired frame over the counter top. The 5:55 am wake up call was too soon. Especially considering the fact that school didn't start until 8:15. But she hadn't forgotten that she wasn't here under normal conditions. She couldn't do as everyone else did because she wasn't everyone else. And even though she was free from Penelope's clutches, this was a new kind of torture.
Deciding that she would never be fully awake, she rose up. She started blinking, splashing cold water on her face to become more alert. This however, only gave her sight of her appearance. Look at me.
Look at him.
She couldn't tell anymore.
Aside from the slight outlining of her figure that baggy pajamas could never fully conceal, Miren's true self was lost. And she wasn't sure if this Miles character she was trying to portray was completely present either.
Her short hair was matted on her head, though a few curls poked out in random directions. Bags hung from underneath her eyes with utmost distinction—this was not a good look for the first day. She certainly didn't look pretty. But she decided this wasn't a bad thing.
Stripping down, she prepared to take a shower. She studied her body through the mirror. She was still the same—dark brown, thin, and tall—but different in a way she didn't know how to describe.
Is this worth it? She began to question as the water spurred in the shower. She released a sigh before stepping in.
Day one, and this whole mission seemed impossible.
Going to school with boys.
Living with a boy.
Being a boy.
The last one seemed especially problematic. She even had to betray her beloved rosemary-mint body wash for the over-powering musk of male soap. But she had to give credit to Chara. She did think of all the little kinks. Still, it seemed like the girl was getting a kick out of the whole thing.
As Miren finished, she relaxed a bit in her naked form. After all, she would never be this exposed. It would never be this easy to tell that she was a girl. She had the shaved head. The height. The deep voice. In a few minutes she would have her uniform on. The gauze.
She'd become Miles, and then she would belong here. It's foolproof, you fool, she gave herself a consolatory smile.
A sudden tap on the door took away that reassurance.
Her response was baffled silence, and Jeno took the initiative to knock again.
"Get out," Jeno commanded.
What the? Miren didn't know what to be more irritated about. The fact that she hadn't even been in the bathroom for ten minutes, or his tone. Who did he think he was?
The second option was the clear winner, but getting into a confrontation with Jeno (nude, nevertheless) probably wasn't the best route to take.
"Almost done," Miren replied instead, with her teen, male, boy voice. She winced at the displeasing sound as she slipped on her black trousers. Need to work on that.
"Please hurry up," Jeno simply said. Miren huffed in the door's direction. If he knew how long it took to put on gauze...A gauze, she feared, as she finished tightening it, was slowly pressing her chest into oblivion.
She threw on her blazer and scanned her appearance, smoothing out her hair until she, or the more important he, was presentable. She took a deep breath before turning the doorknob.
Sunlight peered through the room and the thick opaqueness was losing its dimming quality. She gave a small wave before shifting from the doorway. "Good morning," she said in a soft voice, regaining the essence of her male, Miles voice.
Ignoring her, Jeno brushed past her, shutting the door behind him.
She crossed her arms, rolling her eyes before they met her alarm clock. 6:15. She put her backpack over her shoulders and headed for the door. Sure, school didn't start for two hours, but anywhere other than this dorm room felt like a more tempting option.
With one foot already out the door, Miren felt her spirits rise.
**
Right left right left falter left falter left right left right left right left right left right.
Despite the strange sensation of wearing shoes a size too big (in male size too...), Miren was quickly adjusting.
It was to her advantage that she was a quick learner, but a little birdie named Wallace told her that adjusting to Rinzen wouldn't be half as easy.
At last, Miren made it to the ground floor. Her eyes scanned the room cautiously. She didn't expect anyone to be down here so early, but on the first day when an unaccustomed amount of unwanted attention was already on her, she couldn't afford to let her guard down. She could never let her guard down.
Walking into a darkened room, Miren found the light switch. The room turned out to be a lounge that had the same black-brown wood as the rest of the building. There were some black contemporary sofas, and on a dark green wall was a stylized poster of the school mascot in cartoon form. There was a huge flat screen hanging proudly on a sporty blue wall, with black viewing chairs cluttered around the space.
She breathed the air in, a bit surprised that the air was actually fresh. It was just obvious that boys had seized the place as theirs, preventing the room from reaching its full uncluttered potential.
Boys and all of their chaotic glory, Miren cracked a smile as she weaved her way through the chairs, descending on one of the sofas in a soft plump. But as she sat in an almost eerie silence, it occurred to her that she would be here a while. Retreating to her backpack, she pulled out her new student folder. Plucking it open, she examined her schedule closely.
AP U.S History
AP Calculus BC
Philharmonic Orchestra
Lunch
AP Physics B/C
AP World Literature
Applied Technology Lab
Technology lab? The last class on the list left her slightly confused. She had never heard of such a thing. But in a technologically advancing society, it did seem more practical then home economics. Thank God I'm not enrolled in gym.
She tucked the folder back into her backpack as she settled into the plushy sofa. Cracking open one of her AP Literature reads, she unwinded on the sofa in comfort. Well, as comfortable as a girl could be in an all boys school.
**
Sitting in front of St. Rosemunde's white gates, Artemis waited patiently, hopefully, and desperately.
Ever since Miren's disappearing act, she had dedicated her mornings—very early mornings—in finding the lost girl. She treaded the town, searching everywhere and anywhere. But any good news was non-existent.
And then there were the flyers. Artemis's eyes fell to a dwindling stack of "Missing: Miren Eze" papers resting on the passengers seat of her sedan. She had placed them in every corner of the public eye—even contacted the local new station about her disappearance. But like everyone else, they didn't seem to give a fuck.
"But why?" Artemis slammed her fist down on the dashboard, her eyes filled with fury. "Why is this so hard?"
She took a handout from the stack, studying it. A recent yearbook picture of the lost girl took up most of the space on the white paper. And even though Artemis had not spoken to Miren in several days, Miren's detached smile spoke for her.
Miren was miserable. And it showed every second that she trailed the halls as a numb puppet of Penelope's oppression. Until the strings finally ripped off.
But couldn't she have gotten help before it escalated that far? Artemis took another self-pitying swig of her cold coffee. But who would have helped? She was the only one. And apparently the principal was aware of this too.
After Miren left, she made Artemis responsible for finding her. That, or forfeit her position as school vice-president and serve Miren's suspension. However, it wasn't the headmistress's shallow demands that brought her out here. She needed to ensure that Miren was safe.
Her sadness turned into rage—that Friday would never fade away in her mind. She needed to redeem herself as the friend that she never truly was.
Miren.
She could have helped her so much. She could have made Miren's unbearable high school experience into one of immeasurable joy. But she didn't. It was that simple.
"Reputation," Artemis spat, her tired eyes flickering toward the campus gates. "What the hell does it matter now?"
What was a nice reputation when she couldn't live with herself?
And what if Miren couldn't live with herself? Literally? Artemis felt a sharp shock stun her body. Was she suicidal? She shook her head frantically. That would never happen. Would it?
But it wasn't like they were friends. And at the tragically defeated state Miren left St. Rosemunde, this was a reasonable possibility.
Revving her engine, Artemis could feel more motivation being fueled into her cause.
If anything happened to Miren—She couldn't even finish that thought.
**
"Wake up."
"Huh?" Miren subconsciously mumbled. She shifted further into the couch, clinging onto her unconsciousness.
"Wake up," an unknown student repeated over her, this time shaking her shoulders. The force jolted her lifeless body upright. "You're going to be late," he said firmly. He swiftly glanced at his watch. "I'm going to be late."
"For what?" Miren managed to respond, her eyes closed; sleep's dominance beginning to lose its strength.
"Class," he stated. Like the reaction to touching a hot burner, Miren bolted up, catching sight of the considerate student. He was lean, attractive like most of the others, and had the complexion of peanut butter. But it was hardly the time to be assessing anyone.
"What?" she uttered, before noting the femininity in her voice. "How come no one woke me?" she questioned, as she desperately rushed to her feet, haphazardly gathering her materials and slinging her backpack over her shoulder. She could feel panic consume her.
She had what? Ten minutes to get to class on a foreign campus?
She placed her hand over mouth, fighting the urge to let out an exasperated sigh or grunt—she didn't know what guys did when they were overwhelmed.
So much for making a fresh start.
"I guess that's why I'm here," the student replied with a shrug of his shoulders, obviously not deterred by the time-crunched situation. Then Miren realized the idiocy behind her words.
How come no one woke me?
Of course no one woke her. She was the new kid. If she were in his shoes she would have overlooked herself too. She was lucky they hadn't drawn a penis on her head with a sharpie.
She heaved a sigh, before nodding, and letting the tenseness subside from her face. "Thanks anyways," she said. "I'm Miles."
"Levi." He turned to the door. "It's getting late. It would be wise to start leaving."
Her nose wrinkled. She had no idea where to go. Where she even was. "Actually, could you help me—"
Before she could go on further, her wake up call disappeared from sight.
"You have five minutes!" he called ahead of her. Her eyes widened.
She started sprinting.