Chapter 3

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My fists were clenched in nervous anticipation, as I sat in the auditorium, waiting for Novashi to join me and the Senior Conference to begin. All around me, students timidly filed into the seats. The room felt unusually quiet, as every student contemplated his or her future. Five of us would be chosen today, and the chosen students would leave next Friday. Even if we weren't chosen, ourselves, we would still know someone who was, since our city only had one high school. I heard that some cities were big enough for more, but we were stuck with a very large and very overcrowded school. We had somewhere around 6,000 students.

I spotted Novashi across the auditorium and waved at her. She waved back and began to make her way toward me, doing her best to dig through the mob of students. Without warning, a kid plopped into the seat to my left. The seat to my right was already occupied.

"What do you think you're doing?" I asked firmly. The kid took a moment to realize I was talking to him. He had long, gangly arms and his face was covered in zits. I recognized him as a member of the debate team but couldn't remember his name. This one would put up a fight. Damn debate team.

"I'm sitting," he answered, swiveling to face me. He turned a shade lighter when he saw who I was. The freak who had been raised to fight off an apocalypse, only to reject her noble duty, in favor of the illegal, underground life of blood gambling. Most people didn't know what to think of me. Some got confused by my background in learning to fight and my current illegal occupation, and they thought I was some sort of thug that smashed in noses of those who cheated me. I hadn't exactly done much to clear up this misconception. In my line of work, such a reputation paid off. It meant that people didn't attempt to cheat me. No nose smashing required.

"Mhm. Not if you want to keep your face," I told him. Poor choice of words. I wouldn't want to keep my face if I had his.

"You don't own this seat," he argued. Apparently he wasn't a believer of the thug theory. That was alright. I could convert him.

I turned to the girl to my right, who was chatting with her friend. "Hey, you. Do I own that chair?" I indicated the seat to my left. The girl looked from me to Gangle Arms and furiously nodded her head before turning back to her friend.

"If you look at passage four of the school's Guide to Public Policy..."

"Rinf!" I said to the boy walking past us. He paused. "Show him what I did when you refused to lend me a pencil."

Rinf obediently slid his t-shirt off his left shoulder to reveal a white line that ran across its entire length.

"Now imagine that on your face," I said, but Gangle Arms was already leaving. "Thanks Rinf," I whispered. He gave a nod and left. The white line was actually a birth mark that only looked like a scar, but I did him a favor once, so he sometimes let me use his scar in return. People seemed willing to believe that I had some sort of super strength that was hidden beneath my feminine physique, and so his reputation didn't suffer from boosting mine.

"Oh, Zermia! I'm so glad I found you!" Novashi swooped into the seat next to me. My hand grabbed hers and squeezed.

"Everything will be fine," I told her, not so convinced, myself.

Novashi looked at me and laughed. "I think for once I should be the one comforting you! You're so pale. I think you're the secret vampire!"

I threw my hands up, "Well, start comforting!"

She giggled, "On second thought, I don't think I have the proper certification..."

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