Mutation [ON HOLD]

Chapter 09.

THE ALARM CLOCK beeped when it hit six thirty. I groaned and got out of bed. After finishing my morning routine, I put on my school uniform. I carefully put the griffin pin on my uniform, which identified me as a shifter.

"This looks like the type of clothing I would wear in prison," I commented dryly.

Alex shrugged. "You get used to it."

"Where's Charlie?"

"She went out" was Alex's vague answer.

The steel door slid open when I pressed the "exit" button. Alex guided me to the canteen, which was a good thing because the school was so big and I would have gotten lost.

The large cafeteria was buzzing with hungry students moving to and fro. It was like a sea of gray coveralls. A long glass table was situated on a platform stage in the middle of the room. There were haughty looking people sitting in their cushioned chairs eating gourmet food. A red rope surrounded the stage, which was guarded by a bunch of tough looking people.

"Come on," Alex dragged me to get a plate. "Let's eat."

I took a plate off the rack. "Excuse me," I said to the lunch lady wearing a hairnet. I pointed to some mushy gray substance. "What is that?"

"You ask too many questions." She took her scooper and dumped the gray thing on my plate. I frowned. "Take it or leave it," said the sassy lunch lady. Yeesh. What's her problem?

Behind me, an arrogant looking person dressed in a black coverall approached the lady. "Henricha," he said to the lunch lady with his oily voice. He swiftly pushed back his equally oily blonde hair. "The usual please." 

Henricha the lunch lady blushed and giggled like a schoolgirl. This was absolutely nasty! She must be forty years older than that boy. I baby puked in my mouth. I pretended to pick an apple while I eavesdropped on their conversation.

"Here you go baby," she said in a husky voice. She took out a gold plate with a cooked lobster sliced in half. She drizzled the lobster with butter and sprinkled some sort of spice onto it. He gave her a smirk and went to sit down at the glass table with the rest of the haughty people.

I gave the lunch lady an incredulous look. "You just... But I have... What?"

"Whatchu lookin' at?" Henricha said in disgust. She flicked her meaty middle finger at me. I quickly scrambled to one of the steel tables Alex and Charlie were sitting at. 

Charlie looked up from eating the gray thing. "Sup loser," she greeted me.

I rolled my eyes and gestured towards the gray thing. "The lunch lady refused to say what this is." I gave Alex a hopeful look. "No one but the lunch lady knows what it is," Alex said sadly, patting me gently on the back. 

I gave a doubtful glance at my food. Its mushiness was mocking me. "It doesn't taste half as bad as it looks," Charlie offered. I looked at her and, taking a deep breath, scooped up a spoonful and put it in my mouth. I immediately spit it out.

"It tastes like throw up!"

"You get used to it." Charlie smirked and sat back triumphantly. I scowled at her as Alex offered me a glass of water. I gratefully drank it, happy to get rid of the aftertaste in my mouth.

"It's so unfair. Why do I get this disgusting thing when this oily looking guy gets gourmet food? It's clear the school can afford something better."

Alex smiled bitterly. "He's an Elite. You don't mess with them. They're smarter, faster, more attractive, and overall better."

I finished the glass of water. "Well I think he's a douche."

"Yeah they are. But they have a right to. Their team is the best team out of the entire I.C.E. Academy. They have more privileges and respect."

"How do we become an Elite?" I asked curiously.

Charlie laughed all of the sudden. She laughed hard, even when people were staring. When her laughter died down, she sighed. Her coal black eyes met mine. There was bitterness laced in her wry smile. "Every year, the school holds a competition. Every team has a chance to try to beat the Elites in an obstacle game. No one has ever succeeded. Not likely that you will anyway."

I swallowed my disappointment down my throat. "Oh."

I picked up my plate of gray things and threw it in the dirty dish bin. I turned around to head back to my table, only to bump into a chest. Black coveralls. Griffin pin. I looked up. "You," he sneered.

It was the redhead who had attacked in my dreams.