units. To avoid “soiling” the rest of the supply with my “antics” that were going strangely unpunished by Zein, the staff took care to explain to my entire class that I was an aberrant: markedly less in intellect and appeal than the rest of them, and best to be avoided.
My stomach churns in nauseating remembrance. After my second attempt at escape, and Zein’s continued refusal to punish me, Mettingskew thought it fit to have the class do it for him.
“Z29734. Step forward, please,” Mettingskew ordered.
My hands shook, and my sight crossed. I couldn’t stop my teeth from chattering. Everyone. Everyone was looking at me. I’d never had this many people look at me before. I pictured home. Mother, father, Castrel, the servants… only a handful of eyes I’d ever seen compared to those before me. All of them were my age, and all of them staring at me like I had just committed the worst of sins.
How could they side with a vampire? How could they hate me so much, and vampires so little? How?
I shuffled forward as told along the beaten tile of the school’s foyer, terrified that I might fall from shaking so much. Every exit was lined with vampire guards, of which monitored me with sadistic gazes. Mettingskew faced the rest of my class.
“Darlings… our honorable lord Zein hasn’t the time to properly deal with this aberrant supply unit, one that not only attempted escape once, but twice.” She circled me like a lioness circling a fawn, all else still but my frantic heart. “And why should he, when he is busy laying his life on the line as General to protect us—to protect our noble nation of Cain? Surely, the responsibility then befalls us, the honorable subjects of the esteemed council?”
My eyes widened as I caught the exuberant nods of the girls in my peripherals.
How… how could they not side with one of their own?
“Come now,” Mrs. Mettingskew said to me. She pushed me to the center, between her and the class. “There. One by one I will ask you to step up to the aberrant, and you must slap her here, across the left cheek.” She pointed to her own.
Everything fell away from me in that moment, leaving only embarrassment, shame, and a soul so shattered that I still can’t tell if it’s mended.
“No broken bones, and absolutely no blood. So be mindful of your prowess,” Mettingskew finished. “Z85775, please step forward and perform your honorable duty.”
Even at the time, I expected the raven-haired girl to be hesitant, to look me in the eyes with a silent apology as her hands were tied… but that’s not what I saw. When I looked up at her, I saw disgust. Hatred.
She slapped me so hard I nearly fell over, my cheek catching fire instantly.
“Too hard dear, there’s at least thirty more girls behind you. Back of the line.”
“I’m sorry Mrs. Mettingskew,” she replied earnestly, bowing. I watched her slink away as tears began to stream down my face, burning the afflicted cheek.
Why would she—?
“You would do well to stop your sobbing, lest it will hurt worse,” Mettingskew said to me. “Next, T54385.”
Girl, after girl, it was the same. An honest look of contempt, as if I was an offensive outsider, and a burning rejection swelling more and more along my face. Despite Mettingskew’s warning, my tears never stopped.
It wasn’t until a short, tan-skinned girl with rippling hair stepped up that I finally saw what I longed to see. Unlike the rest of the supply units who had offered me judgment, this one graced me with sympathy. Tears brimmed her long lashes, her lips quivering as she sniffled. Her eyes pled a wavering “sorry” before she slapped me pitifully, without sting.
She lowered her eyes and turned to the back of the line.
Not far after that, she became my only friend at Nightingale: number G89165, or as I chose to call her: Savvy.
We all funnel into a room. Girls on the left, boys on the right, with a raised pedestal in the center, holding upon it the biggest waste of space I ever did see—Mettingskew. She scowls at me as I walk in, and I happily return the gesture before scanning the crowd for Savvy.
She’s ahead of me, talking to another supply unit and completely oblivious. I smile as I weave through the other girls and their dorm mothers, pissing my own pair off in the process. Savvy is more stunning than usual in her mauve lipstick and purple