( I 'm sure you 've heard this a million time, but please have forbearance with me to read all the text and all the serial. Though there is n't any sex in this, you will get to grapple with Alice and Elixir. I 'm aspiring to be a novelist and decided to try my hand at this. Please leave constructive criticism and do n't comment saying you do n't get the tarradiddle later on, because my response will be you have n't show the completely matter. Enjoy ! )

'' Hey fag ! ``

Well, what a wonderful way to start my first day at a new school. This was going to be a goody. Before prying oculus of supporter and cheerleaders alike I cowered, trying to think happy thoughts. It did n't shape. Once the words left the arsehole, the altogether classroom erupted into torrents of laughter that turned my expression florid.

Some did n't laugh. Probably out of respect. Or the fact they did n't see assholes amusing. Whichever it was, I was gladiola that some multitude knew my billet. Joining in the midriff of first semester, when the ingroup had formed, was the last thing I wanted to happen. Outcast in this world of mainstream-ness, chinos, converse and snapbacks, I sheltered in the pernicious fact that my imaginary Prince Charming had killed everyone of the laughing asses.

He had charged in with an AK47, blasted the shit out of them, kissed me discretely then left.

In reality, I was still gazing at my checkered pumps with the mismatched lacing ; one William Green, one garden pink. The scintillation of one of the many chains hanging from my trousers caught my attention the way a magpie was attracted to a silver piece. My mom called me that.

'' My piddling magpie. ``, she used to coo whilst I huddled in her blazon. That was a tenner ago, and her puff was long gone. Now, I had to look this world alone.

At fifteen, bisexual, twain, five-seven and completely fucking Wyrd, aliveness was n't going too well. I still had n't made eye contact with anyone in particular, but it was my first of all error in doing so.

'' What the fucking is incorrectly with his oculus ? ``, shouted the arse again.

They all stared. They always do. Everyone does. And I hate it.

I was born with a inherited mutant that has been passed down through my mother 's face of the category. It is known as Alexandria 's generation. With this condition, my eyes started as pale violet-blue when I was born. During puberty, they darkened to royal purple, but now, they are rich plum in semblance. It looks like I 'm wearing contact lenses. And they cause me a never ending soaker of unhappiness.

Oh, but, they do n't cause me any problem at all, actually. Not physically anyways. My eyesight is, and will remain to my death, twenty-twenty ; my immune system is one C and ninety percent more in force than the median man ; I can experience twenty to fifty years longer ; at the age of xvi my aging pace will slow, then turn back completely when I am forty.

There 's many benefits of the Genesis. But being a kid like me, abhorred by everyone, even my house, it 's fall override the advantages by a carnival stat mi.

My picket, reduce skin color, Corvus corax bootleg fuzz and list framing do not congratulate it at all. If anything, it looks like and eye tattoo gone drastically wrong. It 's as I 'm telling you this that our tutor, Ms Wilkinson, manages to quieten the rabble which I am paying no attention to. Then it happens.

The worst persona aside my chromosomal mutation. My name.

'' This, '', states the beaky woman who is leaning so far over the table everyone aside me has a clear view into the abyss of her cleavage, `` Is our new student, Alice Thomas Gray. '' Fuck.

'' Alice ! ``, returned some of the SOB, chortling with unmerciful laugh.

'' Enough ! ``, Sir Geoffrey Wilkinson bellows. Wow. Her ex-pornstar visual aspect completely belies the fauna within. I feel sorry for her husband, or husbands. She seems that type of woman, but who am I to judge ? Her hawklike eyes scrutinize the class before her, dumb and staring.

I then take the chance to gaze up again and maintain my new schoolmate. None look exactly the squeamish of chaps, and there seems to be only two cliques of girls ; slattern and peasant. What the shtup ? Did they purposefully put me in this division so I had no one to mix with ? I suspect so.

Then, third from the left on the back row, I see him ...

luminosity, honeycomb hair, with delicate trickles of raven black flowing through the mightily incline, so perfect and yet uneven, it looked as though someone had taken a light touch and painted it into the pale ginger. Despite it being tied up loosely, it still trailed down his back, down the stern of his black shirt. The pearl tie hung loose around a slim, pale neck opening, the nail ivory visible. He appears to be wearing mountain chain trouser, alike to me, and Marine iron boot with crumpled side.

A silver stud belt flicker at me from afar.

And like a chatterbox to silver, I fell in passion with the black letter boy, sat third gear from the left hand, on the hind row.

'' You can sit at the back, future to philosophers' stone. '' ... that figure ... I almost stumbled forward in my attempt to fall out orders, heart still locked on those enticing blue angel irises which belonged to the one named Elixir.

A grin crept onto his thin, pink lips. Alluring, but frightening too ... ass ... the desks are doubly. I have to sit literally next to him. Whatever god gives a damn about me, please do n't let me fart or do something stupid ... Please ...

'' Hi. '' God damnit his voice is so aphrodisiac. Low and lilting, and what 's this ? ! He 's English ? ! He 's frickin English people ? ! Do n't think about the bloomer, hide it Alice !

'' Hey. ``, I reply awkwardly, slipping into the seat at his side. Please leave the conversation there, I begged him in my mind, please please delight ... No such fucking Bob Hope. Toward me he extended a hand clad in fingerless ignominious baseball mitt ; thank god. If he was wearing boxing glove perhaps he would n't note how hot my hand was.

Taking the slender fingers and hard palm, we shook mitt, and I replied with an almost level voice, `` Alice. '' The smile he cast me was enchanting, and of him I took in a million things.

Through his in good order ear was an expander, in the shape of a rose littered with thorns. Naturally thick eyelash accentuated the superb blue of his eyes, which were shadowed a little by the sweeping side fringe, long enough to tie back, but he must have his preferences. Scooping away the honey colored hair and black strays, he kept gazing at me, and I stared right back.

His centre were the sand trap, and I was his rabbit. I was helpless in those aquamarine ocean, floundering and drowning in their beauty. I 'm such a game romanticist. Fuck it. Eventually, he seemed to consider that he had tortured his fair game enough, and looked back as Wilkinson began in that scratchy drone. Though the trapper had left his snap, it remained within the cage.

How could a simpleton like me fall so easily in love with a god like him ? But was it really love ? Or just my way of describing awkwardness ?

One more glance at his elegant profile, one to a greater extent longing look at those red-hot lip with black snakebites and I knew ...

It was definitely love ...