( I 'm sure enough you 've heard this a million times, but please have solitaire with me to scan all the school text and all the serial. Though there is n't any sex in this, you will get to fascinate with Alice and Elixir. I 'm aspiring to be a novelist and decided to try my script at this. Please leave constructive criticism and do n't remark saying you do n't get the story later on, because my answer will be you have n't read the unit affair. Enjoy ! )

'' Hey fag ! ``

wellspring, what a tremendous way to part my firstly day at a new schoolhouse. This was going to be a delicacy. Before prying optic of jocks and cheerleaders alike I cowered, trying to recollect happy thoughts. It did n't work. Once the countersign left the whoreson, the unanimous classroom erupted into torrents of laughter that turned my human face florid.

Some did n't laugh. Probably out of deference. Or the fact they did n't find arse amusing. Whichever it was, I was glad that some citizenry knew my place. Joining in the middle of first semester, when the cliques had formed, was the last matter I wanted to happen. pariah in this world of mainstream-ness, chinos, converse and snapbacks, I sheltered in the subtle fact that my imaginary number Prince Charming had killed everyone of the laughing asses.

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

In world, I was still gazing at my chequered pumps with the mismatch lacing ; one Green River, one pink. The sparkle of one of the many chains hanging from my trousers caught my tending the way a pack rat was attracted to a silver piece. My mom called me that.

'' My slight pack rat. ``, she used to coo whilst I huddled in her arms. That was a decade ago, and her comfort was longsighted gone. Now, I had to face up this world alone.

At XV, epicene, braces, five-seven and completely fucking weird, spirit was n't going too well. I still had n't made eye contact with anyone in finicky, but it was my first error in doing so.

'' What the ass is wrong with his middle ? ``, shouted the asshole again.

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

I was born with a genic mutation that has been passed down through my mother 's side of the family. It is known as Alexandria 's Genesis. With this condition, my middle started as pale lilac-blue when I was born. During puberty, they darkened to royal purple, but now, they are plentiful plum in color. It looks like I 'm wearing contact lens. And they cause me a never ending inundation of unhappiness.

Oh, but, they do n't cause me any problems at all, actually. Not physically anyways. My eyesight is, and will rest to my demise, twenty-twenty ; my immune system is one century and ninety percent more effective than the average human ; I can live twenty to fifty year longer ; at the age of sixteen my aging rate will slow down, then stop completely when I am forty.

There 's many benefits of the Genesis. But being a kid like me, abhorred by everyone, even my family, it 's downfalls override the advantages by a middling sea mile.

My pale, fragile skin color, guttle black whisker and skimpy frame do not compliment it at all. If anything, it looks like and eye tattoo gone drastically incorrect. It 's as I 'm telling you this that our tutor, Ms Wilkinson, manages to calm the rout which I am paying no attention to. Then it happens.

The spoiled division aside my genetic mutation. My name.

'' This, '', states the beaky woman who is leaning so far over the board everyone aside me has a light up view into the abyss of her segmentation, `` Is our new bookman, Alice Robert Gray. '' Fuck.

'' Alice ! ``, returned some of the bastard, chortling with merciless laughter.

'' Enough ! ``, Wilkinson bellows. Wow. Her ex-pornstar appearance completely belies the animal within. I feel sorry for her husband, or husbands. She seems that type of woman, but who am I to gauge ? Her hawklike eyes scrutinize the class before her, silent and staring.

I then take the fortune to gaze up again and observe my new classmates. None look exactly the gracious of chaps, and there seems to be only two coterie of girls ; slattern and peasant. What the piece of tail ? Did they purposefully put me in this class 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 ticklish drip of raven inkiness flowing through the flop position, so perfect and yet uneven, it looked as though somebody had taken a skirmish and painted it into the picket ginger. Despite it being tied up loosely, it still trailed down his rachis, down the rear of his bleak shirt. The ivory tie hung loose around a slim, pale neck, the collar ivory visible. He appears to be wearing mountain range trousers, similar to me, and Marine kick with knit sides.

A silver stud belt glints at me from afar.

And like a magpie to silver, I fell in love with the gothic boy, sat one-third from the left, on the rearwards row.

'' You can sit at the rachis, next to Elixir. '' ... that public figure ... I almost stumbled forward in my attempt to follow orders, heart still locked on those enticing blue iris diaphragm which belonged to the one named Elixir.

A smile crept onto his fragile, pink lips. Alluring, but frightening too ... Fuck ... the desks are doubling. I have to sit literally next to him. Whatever god gives a damn about me, delight do n't let me break wind or do something stupid ... Please ...

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

'' Hey. ``, I reply awkwardly, slipping into the seat at his incline. Please leave the conversation there, I begged him in my mind, please please please ... No such fucking promise. Toward me he extended a script clad in fingerless shameful gloves ; thank god. If he was wearing gloves perhaps he would n't detect how hot my hand was.

Taking the slender finger's breadth and inviolable medal, we shook hands, and I replied with an almost level voice, `` Alice. '' The smiling he cast me was enchanting, and of him I took in a million things.

Through his properly ear was an expander, in the shape of a rose littered with spine. Naturally duncish thong accentuated the brilliant blue of his eyes, which were shadowed a little by the sweeping side periphery, long enough to tie back, but he must have his preferences. Scooping away the dear colored pilus and fatal strays, he kept gazing at me, and I stared right back.

His eyes were the snare, and I was his rabbit. I was helpless in those aquamarine oceans, floundering and drowning in their beauty. I 'm such a halting romanticist. Fuck it. Eventually, he seemed to turn over that he had tortured his prey enough, and looked back as Wilkinson began in that scratchy monotone. Though the trapper had left his gimmick, it remained within the cage.

How could a simple 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 more hungriness look at those luscious lips with black snakebites and I knew ...

It was definitely love ...