Hal scrapped his feet on the ground as he slowly trudged into a classroom. He loosened a necktie, which was trying to strangle him while examining the room. Nothing had changed—there were the same people his age gleefully talking about nothing, the same boring posters on the walls, and the same desk in the corner—he had at least hoped to find his seat had gone missing or become filled by some stranger.

He settled in the lone desk; it at least sat next to the window so he could space out instead of listening to the lectures. With a yawn, he scratched his shoulder where skin met metal.

Feya had woken him up bright and early with a “you don’t want to be late on your first day back in so long!” She had only arranged for him to have an excused absence for the duration of the conference and completely forgot about his schooling while selecting him to go on the mission. Apparently, as Hal had heard from Haliegh, Feya had gotten in trouble with some of his teachers. As Dare, she should have written them off. She was in charge of the nation, and Hal said as much with a groan, but he knew Feya was too much of a softie to throw around her title.

He shook his head and rolled his now mechanical shoulder in an effort to relieve an itch. He wore long sleeves and a glove to hide it, and the fabric irritated the fused area. A group of four, chatting about some shop on the boardwalk, stopped suddenly as they noticed the green-haired boy in the corner.

“Hal!” a boy in the group shouted. “We thought you were dead!”

“You owe me lunch now,” a second boy said.

“That was a stupid bet; how many times has he “died” by now?” a girl in the quartet added.

Within seconds, the group surrounded him and berated him with so many questions that he could not make out any words. As other students entered, they joined the growing crowd and added to the overwhelming din.

Despite Hal's best efforts to stay alone, the others always insisted on bothering him.

“That’s enough of that!” A voice broke through the noise. Hal immediately knew who it was, and as the group cleared, he saw a familiar smiling face.

He was tall and slender, with a little definition from muscle. His face was long and thin, and two pointed ears sat on top of his head. Blonde hair ran down to his chin, and no one had any idea whether he had normal ears in addition to the two on his head—they often asked the green-haired soldier, but he didn’t care. The boy's name was Bert, and he had been a thorn in Hal’s side since the young soldier started attending school.

The rest of the class cleared, and Bert sat next to Hal; his desk was the one immediately to the side.

“Popular as ever,” he said with a goofy smile.

“Cease your wasted words.”

“Oh, as grumpy as ever, too!”

Hal made a small sound, something between a grumble and a growl, but he wasn’t sure if Bert picked up on it. “So why the glove?” Bert asked.

Hal didn’t mean to, but he sat his uncovered left hand on top of his right, pointing more attention to the spot. The last thing the young soldier wanted was to have everyone asking about his metal arm—he didn’t want to think about it any more than he had to, either. As soon as Bert called it out, the boy regretted only wearing one.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“My sisters said it was a new fashion that I had to try.”

Bert laughed. “You take what they tell you too seriously, but I’m sure you’ll make it work.” As his laughter calmed down, he added, “who knows, you’ll probably have lots of people copying you tomorrow!”

“I shudder when I consider that possibility,” Hal said grimly.

Bert laughed, “I do too! Can’t have everyone copying my friend.”

Hal’s self-proclaimed friend attempted to keep chatting with him, but the green-hair boy zoned the words out as the class filled in. Soon, their homeroom teacher, Mrs. Bright, came in. She noticed Hal at first, her eyes clearly locking on him in the corner, but refrained from welcoming him back and calling the boy unwanted attention. Hal had told her not to do so in a message the night before, and he was happy that she granted his wish.

“Well, class. It’s good to see all of you this morning! I have to start today with a surprising announcement.”

The class began to whisper to each other until their homeroom teacher cleared her throat loud enough for them to notice. “You could at least wait until I finish… I need a drink. Anyway, we have a transfer student.”

Once again, the class was talking among themselves. It was their last year of mandatory education, and the year was already a fourth of the way over; even Hal wondered what the strange situation could be about. In front, Mrs. Bright looked down to the ground and sighed. Hal banged on his desk loud enough to stop everyone from talking. When the class looked at him, he rolled his yellow eyes and pointed forward.

“Hal’s right, we’ll be here all day if we don’t let her finish,” a boy whispered.

Mrs. Bright shook her head and forced a smile. “Well, everyone! I want to welcome our newest. Classmate, Sabia.”

A green Aqueenian girl with a long silver ponytail tied on the side of her head walked in. She smiled and waved, and the rest of the class returned to discussing amongst themselves.

Hal had been too injured to see it for himself, but Fiona told him later that the Aqueenian girl from his “date” was actually part of the enemy and was present with the foes in the hotel lobby at the final moments of the battle. The blue princess had told Hal with tears in her eyes; apparently, in her mind, she had already crafted a story of forbidden love between the two, which annoyed Hal more than anything else.

Even still, with Sabia present in the class and knowing what he knew, Hal cautiously eyed her as she strolled down the desk rows; her target was the seat right in front of the young soldier. For a moment, he figured she would pretend they didn’t know each other, but she had apparently just not noticed his face until she was standing right in front of him.

“Hal!” she chirped as her green face lit up. She embraced the surprised boy while the class, at a loss for words, could only manage something like a loud and long sustained “eh.”

“So, he has a girlfriend,” a girl said as her eyes watered.

“How does he know all the good-looking girls?” a guy asked.

“I’m going to ask him for dating advice!” another added.

Still held close by Sabia’s thin arms, Hal looked up to the ceiling and sighed. He had tried to maintain a quiet, peaceful school life, and the green girl destroyed the last chance of it. Truly, she was the enemy.

The door to the class suddenly burst open, and his younger twin, Haleigh, charged in. She wanted no time to leap onto the first desk and cross the room, hoping across the desks diagonally leading to Hal.

“That was fast!” a girl—that Hal knew was his sister's friend—said as she set down her tablet.

Haleigh flipped in the air and landed on the floor like a gymnast, and the hugger was pulled off Hal instantly. The green girl was not so nicely shoved into the seat in front of Hal. Sabia cocked her head to the side as her large blue eyes squinted.

“Hal, who is this?” Haleigh said with her arms crossed. Her fingers drummed over her skin.

Hal looked around the room. His sister stood with her arms crossed, Sabia made a flirty wink his way, Bert grinned like a fool, the rest of the students seemed to lean in closer, and Mrs. Bright just sighed and produced a bottle of liquor—none of the other students were paying enough attention to notice.

He took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and spoke clearly: “I have no idea; she’s a complete stranger.”

Everyone groaned as tension deflated like a balloon.