Aberrant

Two: Dex

"Did she call you 'girl' or 'person'?" asks my brother, River, scribbling away in his green notebook. His handwriting is surprisingly neat for someone who writes as fast as he does. 

I look down at my brother. He got the smaller genes in the family and he hunches his back when writing, making him look even smaller. "Honestly, Riv," I sigh, "Does it really matter?"

Hurt flashes across his face. He straightens up and looks me seriously in the eyes, "It matters to me," he says, "I want to record it exactly so I can use the conversation in a book I'm writing."

My brother and I are sitting at a table in a school Cafeteria, surrounded by other Amity-kids. It's a normal school day. I've had four mind-numbing lessons and come lunch, I'm exhausted. 

River is spending his lunchtime writing down an argument I had with an annoying teacher in one his books, whilst I sit beside him, picking at my food and trying to ignore the conversation of my fellow Amities. The topic for their discussion is focussed solely on Abigail's bright yellow dress. 

"I love the way it moves when you walk," squeals our triplet, Mazie, a true Amity through-and-through who also happens to be Abigail's best friend. I do my best not to groan. All I can think of is how ugly it looks on her. Their conversation topics are always boring. 

Abigail beams at Mazie, flashing all her teeth in just that one smile.   

"I love yellow," gushes Felix, a neighbour of ours who happens to be wearing a yellow get-up himself, which clashes with his sandy-blond hair, "It reminds me of the sun."

"Me too," smiles Abigail, "Do you like yellow April?"

I sigh. A while ago I would have racked my brain for an 'Amity' answer. Maybe I would have looked at what I was wearing for inspiration (not that I'm wearing yellow anyway), or tried to pretend how happy 'yellow' made me feel. 

But not anymore. I'm tired of being anyone other than April Dexter Meadows. So I just say the first thing that comes into my head: "Yellow's ugly."

The other Amity kids stare at me like I have two heads, but I'm used to that by now. 

"Oh," says Abigail, conveying all her disappointment in that single syllable. Mazie whips out a comb from her dress pocket and focusses her attention on combing her long brown hair as if it will help her forget her embarrassment of a sister.

River, as usual, cuts in and draws their attention away from me. "I like that shirt you're wearing Farhad," he comments. 

"Do you?" Farhad looks down startled as if suddenly remember that he is in fact wearing a shirt, and then practically glows with happiness, "Thank you! I like yours too!" And the attention is shifted to the boys' shirts. 

I sigh and turn my attention back to River, "I think she said 'girl'," I say, bored.

"What? Oh-thanks!" He says, a smile beaming across his face. He grabs his pen with his left-hand and scribbles it down, "You know, that would go really well with-"

But whatever my brother was going to say, I don't get to hear it, because a hand lands on my skinny brother's shoulder. Looking up, I follow it to its' source and see a tall dark-haired Erudite boy standing next to our table, flanked by a boy on either side. 

"Well, well, well," he says in a surprisingly high voice, "If it's not River Meadows." 

"Uhhh," my brother stutters, quickly and not very subtly trying to cover his practically luminous green notebook with his arm, "H-hello Isaac," he says, addressing the ringleader, "C-Can I h-help you w-with a-anything?"