Tess

Alyssa

Boring. That would be the word to describe my life. Uninteresting. Dull. It's not like I'm complaining or anything—I'm not really the sort of girl who likes to go out and party at raves, or sneak into bars with fake ides, or do other insane things. My friends call me a wimp; they're probably right. I am a wimp. Or at least I was, before I met Tess. Well, I wouldn't say she managed to totally de-wimpify me (though she certainly tried very hard) but I definitely became a little less of a chicken while spending time with her.

I'm getting ahead of myself a little though. I should probably start from the beginning.

It was Monday, the worst day of the week. Things had been even more dull at school than usual, if that was possible, and it was too wet and cold to go outside for more than the time it took to slosh miserably through the sleet in between school buildings. The daily routine was drilled into my head, as monotonous as the steady plop, plop of the sleet dripping from the sagging trees: get up, skip breakfast, drive to school, sit through dull classes, go home, talk to my friends on My Space or IM, read, or do my homework in the last fifteen minutes before I fell asleep. It was funny, really—I suppose I had a great life, compared to some people's, and certainly far superior to the one I'm experiencing now—but for some reason, I just didn't appreciate it. I was naive, I guess. I didn't know what bad could be.

The routine was broken that snowy Monday, however. When I arrived at school, I found most of my friends congregated by the door to the locker room, smirking and being about as obvious as it was possible to be that they were talking about someone negatively, and that they wanted that person to know it. I couldn't quite see the person of their derision; her head was bent over something in her locker, and the door hid her face. I felt a stab of fleeting pity (was she crying?) but I brushed it off. I was used to my friends being rather unscrupulous. I rolled my eyes as I walked toward them, interested in anything that might break my seemingly endless boredom.

“What's up?” I asked as I approached.

My friend Natasha was the one who answered me.

“That girl,” she said, smirking and gesturing toward her, “she's new here, I guess. Look at what she's wearing! I wonder who told her that neon orange and purple polka dots go together? And that it looks good with red hair? Honestly, that girl's a total fashion disaster. I wonder if she even owns a mirror?”

Ari and Kiera laughed maliciously. “I really doubt it,” Kiera said. “I mean, who could even walk past a mirror wearing that clown suit and not pass out?”

I chuckled, feeling a little uncomfortable. For some reason, I've never really enjoyed making fun of people. “Maybe she just likes bright colors?” I said diplomatically. “Maybe she likes the way it looks.”

“Oh Alyssa,” Natasha said, shaking her head and smiling at me. “You're so nice. That's why we love you.” For some reason, it didn't feel like a compliment.

The oddly dressed girl slammed her locker door shut at that moment. I had expected her to look embarrassed, or at the very least, a bit uncomfortable about the fact that five girls were giggling and pointing at her so obviously, but I was startled to see her looking at us, not with the embarrassment warranted of the situation, but with a strange expression that was halfway between amusement and intense curiosity on her face. She would actually have been quite pretty, if it weren't for the hideously bright orange shirt and brilliant purple and green polka dotted corduroys (looking at them actually made me feel a little dizzy). She had the brightest shade of red hair I had ever seen, so red that I thought she must have dyed it. And for some reason I was absolutely fascinated by her. Perhaps it was the way she carried herself—like she didn't care what anyone else thought of her.

She gave us a last interested look, then turned and sauntered off down the hall, like she owned the place.

“It's like she doesn't even care that she looks like a complete dork,” Natasha said, and I detected a note of awe in her voice.

“Yeah,” I murmured, watching her disappear around the corner.





The cafeteria served Mexican tacos that day. They were actually pretty good, considering that they were cafeteria food. Bridgewater High really prides itself in its good food, mainly because its academics are so horrible.

I had nearly forgotten the strangely dressed new girl by lunch time, so I got a bit of a shock when I scanned the room for Natasha and Kiera and saw her again, sitting alone in a patch of sunlight at a table next to the window, her brightly hideous clothing even worse then I remembered. Turning my blinded eyes way from her, I shook my head and carried my tray to my friends' table, careful to hold myself with perfect poise as I walked down the aisle between two rows of tables. I was very conscious of how visible I was.
“Hey Alyssa,” Ari said when I walked up. “We have a job for you.” She giggled and turned toward Kiera, who gave her a wide knowing grin and kicked her under the table. Natasha rolled her eyes and took a sip of her drink.

“What?” I asked, sitting down and popping open my soda. “Look, I'm not going to spray shaving cream in Dana's locker again, okay? Last time Smith almost caught me, and besides, it was kind of mean.”

They laughed, and I felt a sense of great pleasure at their amusement. This was what I had always wanted, to feel like part of a group.

“No, not that.” Ari grinned. “Since you seem to like the clown girl so much, we just thought it might be nice if you went and sat with her. She looks like she could use some company.”

“Okay...what's the punch line?” I said suspiciously. I knew there had to be something more.

“There isn't one!” Ari put on a very unconvincing hurt look. “Just get to know her, ask her some questions about herself....find out where she lives.” Kiera and Ari giggled again and exchanged high fives.

“Oh man!” I groaned. “We're not going to paper another house, are we?” I felt a twinge of regret—I clearly remembered the last time we had indulged in the most classic of pranks, and it wasn't really something I wanted to repeat.

“Oh come on, it'll be fun!” Kiera said. “Unless you can think of something else to do?”

She raised her eyebrows at me, and I suddenly felt like I didn't have a choice.

“Okay....fine,” I sighed. “But you guys really owe me one, all right?”

“Of course, Alyssa,” Ari said, flashing me a suspiciously sweet smile. “You know I'd do anything for you, don't you?”

I rolled my eyes, not even bothering to answer such a ridiculous question.








Tess

Dear Tya,

Greetings from the Earth Dimension! I can hardly believe that I actually made it here. I'm pretty good, aren't I? Not many people could get past the guard. Okay, okay, I'll stop gloating now. I can almost here you sighing all the way across the Great Dividing Line. And anyway, I can't wait to tell you about my adventure so far!

The first thing I did was to enroll in school, of course. I really look too young to apply for a real job here, and I needed some identity, before the guard could do their scan. Luckily I made it in time, so they will have a heard time finding me now. Ha.

The first thing I noticed about the school when I got here was that the walls were the dullest of bland grays. Actually, to me it looked like instead of painting them, one of the earthlings had just puked on them to save money. Which, unbelievably, it's possible that they did. These people are weird, Tya. And when I say weird, I mean really weird, not just the Cloor on soup, Akoniate eating weird. They actually like money, first of all. They're absolutely obsessed with it, actually. Well, it's not quite the same thing here, but still, it's strange. And the whole place looks like a black and white Glando painting. They don't appreciate real colors here at all.

Anyway, when I first got to school, I headed into the office to get my schedule and to ask what a locker is. (It's a upright metal box thing with a door that you put your books and personal items in, and that you have to lock because the earthlings have a tendency to steal things, in case you were wondering). I got a few strange looks from the receptionist and a couple of students that were in the office, so I guess that you're supposed to know what it is at an earth school. Oh well. I don't have to tell you that I failed Studies of Earth (thanks again for letting me borrow you're notes, they've been invaluable to me) but I'm a quick learner, when I feel like it.

My first class was math. It was hilarious, really. People here are just learning algebra in seventh and eighth grade. I was learning calculus when I was ten, and you learned it even earlier. I wonder what they teach them when they're young? Maybe next time, I'll shape shift as a six year old, just for fun. It would be entertaining, at the very least.

The strangest thing here though isn't the math level. It's the people, and how hostile they are toward each other. It's like they never even stop to think about what it would be like to be the other person, how the other person is feeling. This must sound really strange, coming from me and all, but it's true. What I've done would never be considered a crime here. It would just be a fact of life. Something undesirable, but certainly not illegal. It's funny how it is. I guess I'm not a criminal here, and no, that's not another excuse, it's true. I'm really not. I'm just like everyone else here, which I suppose isn't really something I should be comforted by. But it is fascinating.

I'm writing this now from the lunch room, which the Earthlings call a 'cafeteria' or at least I think that's what it's called. The children look at me a little strangely, I'm not sure why. Perhaps this is how they treat all new kids. I certainly wouldn't be surprised, given some of the behavior I've seen. Anyway, I'm missing you, and I wish you were here. I hope by the time you get this, you won't be as mad at me as you were before. You're my best friend, Tya, and I really hate for you to be mad at me. I tried to change, for you, but I just couldn't. It's the way I am, I don't know how to be any other way. I really hope you will have forgiven me, by the time you get this.

Oh, but who am I kidding? Of course I can't really send this to you, a letter filled with the information about my whereabouts, just waiting to be intercepted by the guard! I wish I could, though, Tya. I wish I could just know that you would forgive me.

I have to go. One of the girls I saw earlier is coming toward my table. I wonder if she will speak to me? If she does, she'll be the first. Not one of the Earthlings has even bothered to say two words to me all day.

Very sincerely yours,

Tessialakayelatra

Ha ha. Like I could actually send this.











Alyssa


It's weird, what confidence can do. The girl looked like a complete dork. She was the type of person that I would meet, and then decide after about five minutes or less that she was a nerd (and therefore not even worth acknowledging the existence of). But because of her overt confidence, I actually felt a little nervous about sitting down at her table. It was really quite strange.

“Hi,” I said, and my voice sounded embarrassingly timid. What was wrong with me? “Can I sit here?”

She looked up from her notebook, and I saw the same strange look on her face that she had worn back in the locker rooms. She stared at me for a moment, and then her face broke into a magnificent, slightly mocking smile.

“Sure,” she said, and her tone made it sound like she was sharing an inside joke with some invisible friend. “You're one of the girls from the locker room, right?”

I blushed. I had hoped she wouldn't remember. “Yeah,” I said. “My name's Alyssa.”

“Nice to meet you, Alyssa,” she said, smiling. “I'm Tessialakayelatra.”

“Tessiawhat?”

She laughed. “Just call me Tess,” she said. “Most people do.”
“Oh,” I said, completely bemused.

Still laughing, Tess held out her hand to shake mine. She used her left hand, for some reason.

“So,” I said, uncomfortably sitting down on the edge of my chair. I had no idea why I was so nervous. Just for something to say, I gestured to the notebook and pencil laying in her lap. “What are you working on?”

Immediately, I regretted asking such a personal question, but Tess didn't seem to mind.

“A letter to my friend,” she said lightly.

“A letter...doesn't she have email?” No one writes letters anymore. This girl really was strange.

“Oh...she lives pretty far away,” she said, smiling that secret smile again.
I nodded politely. I was really tempted just to ask Tess right out where she lived, and skip the preliminaries, but I thought that might sound weird. So I just sat there uncomfortably, wishing that Kiera could have just come and done her own dirty work for once.

“Well , Alyssa,” Tess said. “You seem like you know the ways of this school pretty well.”

“Umm...I guess,” I said.

“Good.” She grinned. “'Cause I have a few important questions.”
“Ask away.”

“Well, first of all...do you have any idea why they painted the walls such a discusting and boring color?”

I laughed. “I have no clue.”

“I think it looks like someone puked on them, myself,” Tess sad matter-of-factly.

I smiled inwardly—that had always been my private opinion. “Yeah, they do,” I agreed.“But they aren't anywhere near as bad as the ones in the girls bathroom upstairs. Never go in there before lunch.” I laughed again, and it was a genuine one, not like the ones I had forced back in the locker room when we had been making fun of Tess' clothes.

“So, did you just move here?” I asked when I had stopped laughing. “Where are you from?”

“Yup, just moved here,” she replied, picking up her can of soda. She struggled with the top for a moment, then seemed to give up.

“Where are you from?” I asked again.

“Uh, what's it called, Alaska.” She picked up her soda again and continued to try to pull the top off. I watched her in fascination as she tried to pry it off with her knife. She shook it, tried again, and then finally banged it on the table in frustration. “Okay, fine, I give up,” she sighed. “How do you open these stupid things?”

I snickered. “You seriously don't know how to open it?” I paused. “Oh yeah, I guess you don't have things like soda in Alaska. Don't you people live off wale blubber or something?”

Tess rolled her eyes. “No to both. Now please, help me, I'm dying of thirst here!”

“Sure.” I showed her the little tab on the top of the can.

“Oh, of course, I'm so dumb,” she said, sighing again.

“Wait a minute,” I said suddenly. “Didn't you just shake—”

It exploded in a fountain of sticky wet grape. Tess and I both shrieked and leaped back from the can, but not before we were both drenched in sticky, artificial looking purple.

“Tess—!” I started in outrage, but when I saw the look of utter shock and disbelief on her face, I burst out laughing.

“What the hell just happened?” She squeaked, wet purple dripping down her face.
I doubled over laughing, trying in vain to wipe the sticky stuff off my shirt. Slowly, the shock started to fade from her face, and she smiled a sheepish smile, picking up the can.

“Fascinating,” she said, watching me in amusement. “They don't have these where I come from. Are they supposed to do that?”

I smirked again. “No, most people don't like being drenched in slime.”

“Oh.” She looked relieved. “Well, I wouldn't have put it past you.”

“Come on,” I said. “We'd better go wash up before the bell rings.” I led her to one of the bathrooms off the side of the cafeteria, and we both began the difficult task of trying to remove the purple goo from our clothes. Tess didn't have much patience with it; after only a few minutes of work, she threw up her hands in defeat.

“Sorry, Alyssa, but this is ridiculous. The hell with protocol. It's not like I ever paid much attention to it anyway.” She rummaged around in her bag, until she held up a small metal tube triumphantly. “Ha! This'll do it.”

She proceeded to run it over her clothes, and I watched in amazement as the liquid was siphoned off and the fabric was returned unerringly to its original state.

“Wow! Do they sell those at Wall Mart?” I joked as she did the same to mine.
“Maybe,” she smiled.

“No, seriously, where'd you get it?”

“Imported,” Tess answered, stuffing it back into her bag. “From a long way away.” She sighed.

“About the same place your friend lives?”

“Yeah, about the same.”

I watched her with interest, waiting for her to say more, but she didn't, and I felt it would be rude to question her further.

“So,” she said, leaning against the counter and pulling out a brush. She ran it through her hair and frowned at me. “Is this a typical school in New York? How do you like it?”

“Yeah, pretty typical,” I replied. “The academics are horrible though. The classes are pretty boring.”

“Yeah they are,” she agreed fervently. “Where I grew up, we learned how to do differential equations in the fifth grade.” She laughed. “Never really got it though. My friend, Tya, is a genius, though, so she helped me. I never would have passed without her.” Tess grinned, but I thought I heard a note of sadness in her voice.

“Differential equations in fifth grade?” I repeated. “Isn't that even more advanced than calculus?”

“Sure,” she said. “They were fun, once you got the hang of it.” She shrugged. “My school was really into precocious learning.”

“I'll say,” I agreed. “What school was it?”

“The thing is,” said Tess, “there's so many more interesting things we could be doing than going to boring classes, don't you think?”

“Yeah, I guess,” I admitted, a little caught off guard by her rapid change of subject.
“So, why not? Want to go do something more interesting?”

“What, you mean like skip school?” I asked incredulously. “It's your first day, and you already want to play hooky?”

“Sure, why not? It's dead boring here.” Her eyes lit up. “What do you say? We could go to the casino and trick the guards to let us in, and then trick the machines into letting us win. We could go climb that big building, whatever it's called, and freak people out by dangling off the edge. Or we could just go and explore, I'd love to see more of this place. We could do anything!”

I stared at her in amazement, shocked to realize that she was absolutely serious.
“You're crazy!” I exclaimed. Skipping school was always the one thing I would put my foot down about, when Ari or Kiera devised one of their rule breaking schemes. I thought that it was going a bit too far. Yet, strangely, it didn't feel like that with Tess. Perhaps because she made it seem like the most natural thing in the world.

“Of course I'm crazy,” Tess answered. “But where's the fun in being sane? Come on, what do you want to do?”

I smiled, allowing myself to indulge in her fantasy for a moment. "Oh, I dunno...I've always wanted to explore...I suppose."

"Great! So, exploring it is then! Where should we go?"

"Um, around town?" I offered, still just humoring her.

"Why, you're as boring as this school!" Tess exclaimed. For some reason, I felt a little hurt. And I realized that, amazingly, I suddenly actually really cared whether this strange, clown girl liked me or not. In fact, I really wanted her to. And maybe, I was willing to skip school to make sure she did. I am such a pushover.

"Well, where would you want to go exploring?" I asked her reluctantly.

"Well...." her face split into a naughty grin. "Haven't you ever wondered what goes on in that shady looking building a few blocks from here? The one who's windows are always dark, and weird people are always coming in and out of?"

"Sure, I guess," I said, not at all thrilled by her idea. "What do you think goes on there?"

"I think it's a cult," she said with satisfaction.

I bit my lip; I wasn't very enthusiastic to go and investigate a cult. They were dangerous. But if that was what I had to do to make Tess like me, I would.

Wish me luck.

"Fine," I said, sighing. "Let's go."




(This is the first chapter of a story, any comments greatly appreciated!! Thanks for reading.)