not swallowed in the sea [open]

[bluesails]

And Scheridan shoots - and he scores!

I let the imaginary applause ring in my head as the crumpled-up wad of tissue left my fingers and sailed through the air in a perfect arc, bouncing off the cafeteria trashcan rim and into its smelly black depths. My beat-up sneakers squeaked against the mopped floors as I grabbed a tray and started loading food onto it, selecting a tuna sandwich and an apple before grabbing a juice box to go with it and heading for one of the long white cafeteria tables. There were only a few students here at the moment, milling about in small groups, but I was perfectly content with eating alone for now, in case someone cared to join me - I might have had a lot of friends, but time alone was something to be enjoyed as well, every once in a while.

Especially when you think you're going nuts, I thought to myself, recounting the events that had taken place at the Whisper stable not long ago. I decided that everyone else here was fully acquainted with the whole horse-talking-in-your-head thing and wanted to see if everyone here was crazy like I was - or at least, sensible-sounding enough to give me some closure on what the hell was going on. Taking a bite of apple and chewing, I scanned the cafeteria. Most of the kids here were older than I was and seemed a lot more horse-savvy; maybe it was the way they held themselves or busied about like they knew exactly what they were doing. Or maybe it was the short riding boots some of them wore under their jeans... yeah.

A.D.D. is right, I told myself, and bit into the apple again. I felt like my brain was being tugged in several different directions. A part of it was missing home and the kids it remembered; another wanted to know what exactly had happened, scientifically, with the horse and the talking. And a small part of it was studying everyone else. I was subconsciously aware that I had slowed and then stopped my chewing, the apple still in my hand and raised above the table. I probably looked really silly, but the gears were turning in my head - there was a lot in store for me at Catalpa. So much I could barely fathom it. I looked at the apple like it had the secrets of the universe written in its peel. What was I doing here? A week ago I'd been some kid in a suburb, now I was the freaking horse whisperer. And, I thought irritably, where is everyone else my age? Is the 10th grade class nonexistent, or something?

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[Lyss Leviera]

This was very different than what I thought. A nicer cafeteria than I would have expected, judging by the fact that my dad sent me here, and he’s too cheap to pay for anything for me. I actually expected to be going to military school. Nope, just a school where I found a horse that can talk to me. Just a school where I discovered that a certain horse could talk into my mind. I know, I’m probably going crazy, but nobody knows what the human or horse mind is capable of. But I was still leaning to the “I’m going crazy” theory. Well, almost anyone else in my position wouldn’t have lasted this long, but I wouldn’t let what anyone thought bug me. Who was I to try to change their minds? And who was I to dislike them for their thoughts, which were most likely involuntary? Nobody, ‘cause I wouldn’t do that. It was not my style.

I grabbed an apple and paid for it quickly, not looking at anyone and just acting normal. Hey, nobody needed to know about the freaky-strange-horse-whisperer-thingy, and I didn’t need to be thought of as a freak show or a novelty act. Not like it would stop it completely. I was the girl who never talked but seemed to hate everyone. It kept people away, and I didn’t want to have to deal with anyone who might ask me too many questions.

I walked slowly over to some random table, not even looking who was there, sitting down in a seat and taking out a book. Books couldn’t hurt you. Physically they could, paper cuts, being hit over the head with them, but they can’t talk to you, they can’t call you a freak, they can’t do anything to your emotional and mental well being. Not that I had much of that to begin with. I hadn’t seen too many people yet, and I still had to find out who my roommate was, but I wasn’t ready to deal with that yet.

The apple was good, but I didn’t really care. I had no appetite; I supposed it was from the change of location, being so far away from the man I called a father. Yeah, right, I’ll believe he can be a father when he can go for two hours without hitting or screaming at me. I had just gotten rid of the last bruise on my ribs a few days ago, and I didn’t need another one. But it would be covered anyway, so it really wouldn’t matter. My black leather boots seemed out of place, as well as my bright red skinny jeans, tight black t-shirt and white tie. That’s what I loved about them. My hair was straight and spiked so that it hung loosely down my neck and over my shoulders. My eyes were sure to be dark; I had black eye liner and mascara on, and a dark red shade of lip gloss. I wanted to make a good impression, and by good impression, I mean that I hoped nobody would come near me.

But still, I would have liked to have seen someone my age around here. Although I wouldn’t mind having a room to myself, I would hate to be in a class by myself. But I guessed most students hadn’t arrived yet, which was a good thing. It gave me time to get used to the place and find the best way to avoid people. No to mention, it gave me time to think about what I was going to do about my freaky-talking-horse who seemed scared by anyone being near him.