
Aliens Are Real: Part 1

By Sabrina Sumsion

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2012 by Sabrina L. Sumsion

**Smashwords Edition, License Notes**

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Dedication and Acknowledgements:

I am truly blessed to be surrounded by friends and family who love me and support my crazy schemes. Thank you to my husband who has adapted to my ways over the years and tolerates me lovingly. Thank you to my children who inspire me and bring me smiles and gooey kisses. Thank you to my parents who raised me to know the only limits are the ones I put on myself. Thank you to my sister Belinda for not beating me up too much growing up and believing in my wild ideas now. Thank you to my friends who beta read including Shannon, Arie, Annie and Emalia. Thank you to Charlie, Gina and Vicki in my writing group The Local Muse and the wonderful support you give me. Thank you Dan "Freight-Train" Trivates for the awesome edits and valuable suggestions. Most of all, thank you Heavenly Father for allowing me the ability to create.

**Chapter 1: A Full House**

Jasmine stood in the moving bus.

"No!" she yelled as she snatched her bag off the seat and ran to the front amidst the surprised murmurs of her schoolmates and the bus driver's protests.

"He can't do this to me again. Not today," she murmured under her breath.

The bus slowed to a stop and the doors slid open. Jasmine burst from the bus, ran past a large vehicle parked at her curb and rushed into the house. She pushed her slender frame past a man laden with boxes squeezing through her front door. She stumbled up the stairs in her panic. She caught her toe on the top step and careened towards her doorway. She slowed her forward momentum by grabbing the door frame with both hands. She surveyed her room in horror.

"Get out of my room!" Jasmine shrieked, startling the greasy man standing by her antique dresser, holding a pair of purple striped underwear in one hand and a box in the other. He stared at her with his mouth agape and eyes wide.

"Are you deaf? Get out!" she reiterated, stomping over to him.

She grabbed her underwear, threw it in the box and pointed to the door.

"But I . . ." the man said.

"Leave!" Jasmine yelled, interrupting him.

"Whatever," he said, shrugging and walking towards the exit shaking his head.

He walked too slowly for Jasmine's liking. She followed him and used the door to push him out of the room faster. Her fury welled up inside her. Jasmine opened the door then slammed it shut several times. She paced the floor, willing everyone near to burst into flames. She grabbed a stuffed animal and threw it at the door with a guttural yell. The small lamb bleated a pitiful cry as it impacted and fell.

Jasmine surveyed the room. Her closet doors hung open, revealing empty hangers and partially filled boxes. A drawer sat on top of her antique cherry wood dresser where the man had laid it. She could see scratch marks under the drawer from where the man pushed it across the top of her lovingly refinished furniture without care for keeping her property nice. She clenched her fists. She had fixed the scratches from the last careless movers only two months ago. She would have to do it again.

Jasmine's messy military-issue twin bed appeared untouched. Her various music posters still observed passively from the walls, too cool to intervene on her behalf. The mover she interrupted had barely started in her room. Jasmine breathed a sigh of relief as she realized she had arrived home just in time to prevent most of the damage.

She reached into a pocket of her jeans and fumbled for her cellphone. Tears blurred her vision as she jammed a finger on its buttons. She tapped her toe as the phone rang.

"Hello?" said a male voice on the other end.

"Dad, what the heck?" Jasmine wailed, throwing her free hand in the air. It was a wasted gesture considering her father couldn't see her but it was a good thing he couldn't. That sort of behavior landed her in trouble.

"Jasmine?" he asked with a hollow voice. As she walked over to the window, Jasmine realized that he had put her on speaker phone.

"Why are there movers here?" she inquired, pushing aside the white curtains then gazed down at the men carrying boxes and furniture out of the house and into the truck parked by the curb.

"Jasmine, I only have a minute. Something came up and we need to move immediately," he explained. His distracted tone and papers rustling in the background communicated clearly to Jasmine that she didn't warrant his full attention.

"How hard is it to call me? A text maybe? How about an e-mail?" She flipped her brown hair over her shoulder.

"Calm down. I didn't have time to give you an update," Dad elaborated.

"Why are we moving again?" she whined, sagging onto the bed and wishing for a different life.

"Jasmine, this is classified. You know I can't talk about it," Dad rescinded, hiding behind bureaucracy to avoid offering an explanation for his negligence.

"Whatever Dad," Jasmine huffed as she flopped onto her back.

"Young lady, fix your tone immediately. We will discuss this when you arrive," Dad shot, switching into his voice of unquestionable authority.

"Where? Where are you?" Jasmine pried, sitting up, trained to respond like a good soldier although she despised her own reaction. She was pressing her luck.

"Omaha. Look, I have a meeting. I'll see you at Offutt Air Force Base. A car will be by to pick you up at o-eight-hundred," Dad said coldly then hung up the phone.

The click in her ear startled Jasmine and she looked at the screen on the phone in disbelief. The words _Call Ended_ flashed thereupon, mocking her. Dad's brisk responses had thwarted her righteous anger again. Even though Jasmine's dad was the one who was in the wrong, she would end up having to apologize. A subordinate was not allowed to question a commanding officer.

Jasmine braced herself against the tears seeking escape her brown eyes. She refused to cry. She closed her eyes as her world closed in on her. Her chest ached. She struggled to continue breathing, forcing the air in and out in gasps. She understood why someone would want to die after suffering a broken heart. Anyone would want to escape the pain and loneliness she lived everyday.

Jasmine collapsed on her bed, stared at the swirls in her ceiling continued to deny her tears the exodus they sought. She rolled into a ball on her side and willed herself to fall asleep so she could escape into a dream where people who loved her would surround her in warm embraces.

Sleep refused to come. She sat up and reached for her only friend. The old Martin acoustic guitar stood in its stand, stoically waiting for Jasmine's gentle fingers. Jasmine nestled the guitar to her body and slowly strummed several minor chords. Switching to an E chord, she began to sing.

"Happy birthday to me . . . Happy birthday to me . . ."

Jasmine's sixteenth birthday passed in tears and boxes.

**Chapter 2: Missions**

"This mission is crucial. If we fail, we can't go home," Honorio stated as he placed both hands on the table in the middle of the dimly lit room. His dark brown eyes scanned each person. These people, his team, reacted differently to his words.

Joseph reclined in a chair positioned sideways to the table and threw a ball against the wall. The short, dark haired boy never took things seriously enough in Honorio's opinion. His smug, ever-present grin stemmed from too much confidence in his skills. Unfortunately, Honorio could not trust in mere skill. He needed to know that his team functioned cohesively.

Yumi, small and delicate, sat silently at the table and scanned everyone's faces with her dark, almond eyes. She twirled a lock of her long, dark hair. Honorio knew he could trust her. Her presence soothed him. When he was honest with himself, he acknowledged the fact that she made everyone comfortable –one of her most valuable assets.

"Relax Nori. We have practiced enough times that we can do this in our sleep." Malika purred, flicking her long blonde hair with her right hand while flipping a dagger in her left. Honorio knew she could handle the course he had laid out. Unfortunately, she preferred to do things her way in stressful situations. She lacked the team spirit Honorio needed in order to feel comfortable.

"That is not good enough. I want everything to be perfect. No one hurt, no one captured, no one aware of our presence," He stared at the unchanged faces surrounding him. Honorio wanted to break the table out of frustration. None of his words seemed to convey the urgency and seriousness of their situation.

"W-We could go over the plan one more time," Tyrone stuttered, hunched over in his chair with hands clasped so tightly that his dark skin turned pale around his knuckles. He looked up at Honorio with a pleading expression in his dark eyes.

"We already know what we are doing. Do not torture us anymore," Joseph groaned loudly.

Honorio glared at Joseph then studied Tyrone's dark face. Tyrone's wide eyes and tense hands worried Honorio. Tyrone had one of the most brilliant minds Honorio had ever known but he did not belong in the group. He volunteered to help but unwittingly stumbled into more than he could handle. No turning back now. If they failed at their mission, they would never see home again. He ran a hand through his short, black hair, muscles rippling under his shirt.

"Okay. Here's the plan again . . ." Honorio began amidst sighs from Malika and Joseph.

**Chapter 3: New Scenery**

The orientation at the new air force base was akin to entering an alternate universe. Time slowed and tortured all those trapped inside. The overly friendly woman showing Jasmine around told her, through a 1000 watt smile, all about Offut Airforce Base and the greater Omaha area. Inwardly, Jasmine rolled her eyes while the lady continued explaining all of the great things the base had to offer. She shifted her guitar case from her left hand to her right.

Jasmine glanced at the lady's name tag again. _E. Trellin_. Jasmine noticed the woman's stripes and became confused. Captains rarely led orientations. Normally a private handled that task. This captain seemed to relish in her mundane task. Jasmine inspected the captain closer. The captain's light brown hair was pulled back into a tight bun. Her make-up accentuated her large, blue eyes and lipstick stained her full lips a jarring shade of red. The winks meant just for Jasmine confirmed that the captain was on the prowl and Jasmine's father stood in her sights.

Objectively, Jasmine understood that women flocked to her dad's dark hair and bright blue eyes. Add to that his athletic build –he kept the Air Force's property in prime condition –and he was considered a top notch babe in the adult world. At 6'2", tall, dark and handsome described her dad. She pitied the poor women who were ignorant of his cold and unfeeling heart. He loved only his top secret job.

Remembering her father's admonition about representing the family and needing to make a good impression because of his career, she tried to act interested. Jasmine breathed a sigh of relief when Captain Trellin finished her presentation.

"Do you have any questions for me?" she asked Jasmine.

"No, thank you. All I really need is a map of Omaha," Jasmine replied, clutching her packet of orientation materials

"There's one in your packet there," she said pointing to the folder in Jasmine's hands.

"Thank you. Can you show me where we are and where my house is?" asked Jasmine.

"No problem!" Captain Trellin grabbed the folder with her immaculately manicured nails.

They spent another 5 minutes finding the location of Jasmine's new house. As Jasmine slipped out the door Captain Trellin called out to her:

"Jasmine, don't hesitate to call me if you have any questions!" she invited.

Jasmine nodded as she exited and breathed much easier outside in the fresh air. Her nose twitched at the cold air and Jasmine watched her breath condense and float up when she exhaled. She quickly oriented herself by the sun with the map open in her hands. The sun warmed Jasmine's face slightly as she turned to it and old memories surfaced. Memories about her dad and mom sitting beside her on a log and teaching her about compasses and maps while a fire warmed their toes swirled in Jasmine's brain. Mom and Dad let her pick the path some days. Along each trail they explored Jasmine learned bits and pieces about nature.

Jasmine shook her head. That was before the accident. She pushed the memories aside. Those nature skills would help one day when she found herself lost in the middle of a wilderness somewhere. In other words, it was totally wasted information. _Grow up, Jasmine_ she thought to herself.

She spotted a car in front of the base headquarters. The driver held a sign that read _Jasmine Smith_. She sighed. Her dad played the good officer doing paperwork or something instead of bothering with a small detail like his daughter.

The driver, a young private, stood at ease by the passenger door.

"I'm Jasmine," she informed the driver.

The driver snapped to attention.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Yup," Jasmine reported.

He opened the back passenger door. Jasmine walked to the car and paused before getting in. She looked the private in the eyes.

"What'd you do?" she asked with a laser beam stare.

The private looked startled.

"Ma'am?" he asked, pretending to be oblivious.

"What'd you do? Miss curfew?" she reiterated.

"I don't know what you mean," The private responded, looking uncomfortable.

"Come on. You got the crappy assignment of chauffer for the day. You did something," she accused, folding her arms and staring at the private who was not much older than her and waited for his answer.

He looked at Jasmine and gestured for her to get in the car.

"Come on, air man. We don't move until you answer," she taunted.

He looked at his watch then back at her. He lost his ram rod straight posture, leaned in and caved.

"My footlocker was a mess," he confessed.

Jasmine smiled.

"Now that wasn't so hard was it?" she said soothingly and patted his arm before scooting into the back seat. He closed the car door once she settled in. The interior smelled of pine. The immaculate condition of the seats and floor mats indicated that someone obviously vacuumed the car regularly. She shifted in her seat and shivered in the cool interior waiting for the private to walk around the car. Thankfully, the heat circulated when the engine started.

Jasmine slipped into her thoughts and considered the fact that life would be easier for her if dad would live on base. On base she would be able to relate to the other students. Everyone there learns an accepting attitude that comes from leaving behind your life and friends every few years. She couldn't understand why her dad insisted that they live among civilians.

On the other hand, living in the city and attending a large high school had its benefits. Jasmine could blend into the scenery until she moved again. At small schools, the other students notice the new girl and stare. In a large high school, no one knows everyone so she could play the part of scenery; fly under the radar as dad would say.

The car merged onto the interstate and a car passing on the left caught Jasmine's eye. The plain black sedan had no discerning features yet it drew her gaze. She looked over and saw a girl about her age in the backseat. The girl's black hair framed her face and emphasized the dark almond eyes that gazed back at Jasmine.

Entranced, Jasmine lost track of time and reason until the girl's car passed and Jasmine's driver's head broke the line of vision. She looked through the back window of the other girl's sedan and noticed a couple of guys next to the girl in the car but couldn't see them well through the glare of the sun off the car's rear window. She leaned forward to watch the vehicle weave deftly through the heavy traffic and disappear from sight.

Jasmine sat back in her seat and exhaled the breath she'd forgotten to release. She wondered at her reaction to that girl. She passed it off as a silly fluke caused by physical and emotional exhaustion.

The base car eventually arrived at the building that would house Jasmine for too short a time. The white, two-story house her dad had picked hid in the middle of a quiet street. A big porch spanned the front. Blinds barred all the windows shutting out the world. The house seemed harmless but not necessarily welcoming.

_Aloof_...

The building didn't care who resided inside. Jasmine returned the apathy. She viewed the house as a hotel in her life, no more than another address to forget in a couple of years.

She looked around the neighborhood. The same boring, cookie-cutter houses lined both sides of the street. All the houses had the same type of grass cut to the same length. Jasmine and her dad might as well have lived on base.

Sighing, Jasmine ascended the front porch steps. She unlocked another strange, new front door and pushed it open. She paused a moment before stepping over the threshold. She placed her guitar case and purse in the doorway on the floor. In the room to the right, boxes littered the floor and empty furniture lined bare walls pretending to be a proper living room. In front of her, stairs ascended to the second floor. To the left of the stairs a hallway led to the back of the house. To her direct left, she spotted the dining room table underneath several boxes in another room.

Jasmine gazed back to her right and spotted a picture montage from a happier time peeking out of a box. Wood framed faces smiled at her as her mother's image walked into her view. Jasmine could almost hear her mother humming while placing a family picture on the wall and setting the clay pinch-pot Jasmine made in second grade on the bookshelf. Her mother's nose would crinkle when she smiled and greeted Jasmine into the house. As quickly as she appeared, her image faded.

Jasmine's chest filled with pressure. She struggled to breathe as her muscles froze. The room was empty. She knew the room was empty. The image of her mother looked real. It felt like she was alive and just around the corner, out of sight. If Jasmine took a couple steps forward, she would see her mom standing there, arms outstretched, gesturing for a hug.

Instead of torturing her heart further by walking into the living room, Jasmine turned left and stumbled up the stairs. She walked into the first room on the right. A bare mattress and box spring sagged on the bed frame in the back corner of the room to her right. The movers dumped her dresser against the wall to the left. Several boxes on the floor showed _Daughter Room_ marked on them.

Jasmine trod to her bed and collapsed across it, willing her pounding heart to slow. Tears streamed down her face as she focused on breathing. Slowly, she recovered from her moment of grief.

She looked around the room and forced herself to sit up. She needed to unpack her meager possessions. Even though unpacking at each new house wasted time and effort, clean clothes were a necessity.

Jasmine grabbed the closest box and lugged it to the bed. She ripped it open and found clothes. Half of the clothes she threw in a pile near the door because of excessive wrinkles. The rest she put in drawers or hung in the closet. Jasmine tore off the tape and flattened the box after emptying it. She'd done this procedure enough times that she stacked several boxes within a few minutes.

A worn scrapbook was nestled in the next box between a few novels she had inherited from her mother and several spiral-bound notebooks. Jasmine caressed the cover and thought about the treasures held inside before she flopped on her bed and flipped it open. A picture of Jasmine only hours old greeted her, an old friend. In the picture, mom cuddled her and dad held both of them.

She flipped through the pages of baby pictures and hair clippings. She lingered on some of her favorite memories like her 5th birthday when mom and dad gave her a princess costume. The layers and layers of pink frills came with matching costume jewelry and tiara. Mom and dad used to laugh about how she spent a month living in the plastic high heeled shoes. Mom said Jasmine wouldn't wear her boots in the snow if she had been given a choice.

She flipped past more pictures and slowed her page turning. She knew what came next. The day her happiness ended waited a few pages further in the book. Behind the photos of her 9th birthday, a small clipping from the newspaper, harmless to a casual observer, sent pangs of loneliness to Jasmine's heart.

Mary Smith died on November 3, 2004 in a tragic accident at the Davis-Monthan Air Force Base. She leaves behind her husband, Capt. John Smith and daughter, Jasmine Kathryn.

A closed casket ceremony will be held at First Assembly of God at 10 AM.

Jasmine relived the anger she felt when she saw that her mother's obituary spanned less than 2 inches in the newspaper. Her mom lived a rich, full life. She deserved a front page spread for the beauty she brought to everyone's existence. She definitely deserved better than a distant jerk like Jasmine's father who couldn't be bothered to provide the newspaper with more information; who couldn't be bothered to provide his own daughter with more information.

Jasmine pushed the box onto the floor, lied down, pulled the photo album close to her heart and cried herself to sleep.

***

"Are you ok?" Honorio softly asked Yumi.

They stood in their dark garage. He had grabbed her arm and held her back as everyone else entered the house.

"I am fine. Just momentarily distracted," she replied, looking up at Honorio with her dark almond eyes and smiled.

Honorio felt the wave of peace wash over him but fought the soothing currents. He needed maximum awareness to lead the team. He shook his head.

"We completely lost all contact with you back there. We need you focused or the mission fails,"

Yumi ducked her head.

"I am sorry," she whispered.

Honorio lifted her chin so he could look into her eyes again.

"You have brought no shame. Talk to me if something is troubling you," he admonished.

"That is the problem. Something is troubling me but I do not know what it is. I do not think it is linked to our mission though. It is something outside. Something new. Something . . ." she trailed off.

Honorio watched Yumi try to find the right words. Yumi's behavior disturbed him. He trusted that when she said the interference would not interrupt their mission, she told the truth. He did not like her distracted though.

"I am sure it was nothing. Come inside and eat. You will feel better," Honorio bade her.

Yumi nodded and followed. Honorio plastered a calm expression on his chiseled face. He could not let the others sense the dread in the pit of his stomach.

**Chapter 4: New Girl**

A small engine buzzed outside Jasmine's window. The incessant noise roused Jasmine from a deep slumber. The sun shone through her windows directly into her face. Birds chirped outside. Normally, she would greet the day but she simply groaned, rolled over and pulled her comforter over her head.

Her annoyance increased as light filtered through her blanket. She wondered why her light blocking curtains didn't keep the sun from her face. Did someone open them?

She peeked out from her blanket. Her curtains were gone. _Where did they go?_ she wondered, her sleep-muddled brain unable to piece together a logical explanation for the missing window coverings.

She pushed up on her elbow and surveyed the room. Her dresser sat against the wall but held less junk than usual. Jasmine noticed the boxes scattered in her room and the fog from her slumber cleared. This was another new house. She didn't find her curtains before going to sleep and that was why the sun shone in her face. She moaned and flopped back onto her pillow in her new room.

_Find curtains_ moved to the top of her mental check list. No teenager should be expected to wake up in the morning on weekends. At that thought, Jasmine shot out of bed, realizing it was Wednesday and her first day of school in Omaha. She didn't unpack her alarm clock the night before so she had no clue how long she slept.

Jasmine tore through her drawers and the remaining boxes for an outfit worthy of the first day at the new school. She finally settled on a pair of jeans and a button up top that showed off her limited curves. She threw the outfit on her bed then ran down the hall and found the bathroom. She started the water, shed the previous day's clothes then jumped in the shower. The hot water helped her regain her senses.

Why hadn't her dad woken her up when he got home the night before or this morning? She wondered if he even came home last night. Jasmine's dad often worked all night and into the next morning however he usually contacted her at some point to let her know he still lived.

She looked around as she let the water pour over her tense shoulders. Looking through the semi-opaque shower curtain, she saw a small but functional bathroom. It spanned about five feet by eight feet long. The tub and shower were built into the back wall. The toilet looked clean enough. Just beyond the toilet sat the pristine pedestal sink. Jasmine nodded. She could work with the space.

A horrifying epiphany came to Jasmine as she turned off the shower. She hadn't unpacked any towels yet. She opened the bathroom door a crack then peered out, listening intently for a hint of movement as she shivered in the puddle of water dripping off her body. She didn't see or hear her dad so she ventured out of the bathroom in all her sopping wet birthday glory, and searched for the right box. After several half-emptied boxes, she located a towel and ran back to the bathroom.

She dried off, pulled on clean clothes, then grabbed her towel and followed the path of her naked mad dash and sopped up all the puddles she left. She returned to the bathroom and ran a brush through her medium length brown hair. She swept a line of black eyeliner around her dark brown eyes. She lamented her short eyelashes as she brushed mascara on them in an attempt to make them appear long and full like fashion magazine models. She stepped back and sighed. Even after all her effort, she felt plain.

A loud protest from her stomach reminded her that she last ate around 18 hours before. She decided nothing more would improve her appearance and ran downstairs to search for food.

As she hurried down the stairs, she looked for any sign of her father. At the entry way, a small table held a note.

Saw you were sleeping and figured you were exhausted. There are donuts on the counter and orange juice in the fridge. Take today off school. We will set you up tomorrow. -Dad

Jasmine looked to her left. The living room remained boxed up and haunted. Jasmine shuddered and decided to go to school. She shrugged and crumpled the note. She noticed her purse and guitar case on the floor by the door. She rummaged through her purse and fished out her phone. She walked down the hallway to the left of the stairs and found the kitchen. She threw her dad's note in an empty plastic bag on the counter then looked for the donuts.

Jasmine spotted them by the fridge and grabbed a chocolate frosted one out of the box. It was fresh and melted in her mouth. She finished it off in a few seconds then grabbed another chocolate heaven-in-a-ring and ripped off a chunk. She glanced at her cell phone and nearly choked. It was 10:15. She needed to figure out a way to get to school. After a short search, she found a phone book and looked up the high school's address. The phone book had a map section so she figured out the school's location in relation to her house. Luckily, Jasmine only needed to walk 6 blocks.

She ran upstairs and opened the last box in her room. She fished out her trusty, old, black backpack with a couple pens and a half used notebook in it. Her small purse fit in the backpack so she threw it in as well. Jasmine took a deep breath and strode out of the house. She locked the door firmly behind her and headed to her first day at the new school.

Yippee

Even in the middle of a class period, several people wandered the halls. Near the front door, two large hallways intersected at the main office. Two sides of the corner office held windowed walls so Jasmine could see the main counter running across most of the room with filing cabinets along the walls beyond. Painted across one of the windows in Royal Blue and Scarlet Red was "Go Cyclones!" Next to the words was a picture of a cartoon rendition of a tornado.

After 45 minutes that included meeting the principal and her new guidance counselor, Jasmine headed out the door with a class schedule. The counselor highlighted all of the classrooms on a map of the school for Jasmine. She glanced at the clock and read 11:20. Jasmine read her class schedule. Her school day started in World History with Mr. E. Alas, Algebra with Ms. J. Gallagher, Introduction to Art with Ms. A. Arambula then lunch. After lunch she had Drama with Mr. V. Conrad, basic Dance with Ms. C. Rico and Biology with Mr. W. Hagen.

_Dance_? She decided she should have paid closer attention when the guidance counselor searched for classes with available seats. Jasmine considered turning around and asking for a class change but then shrugged and decided to try it. If she hated it, she'd ask for a new schedule for the next semester a few weeks away.

When she read "Family Development" she snorted out loud. Maybe she finally found a class she would fail. She knew nothing about how families should operate.

Jasmine wandered towards the lunch room more to learn the layout of the school than to eat. The typical lunch room smell of greasy pizza, hamburgers and the mystery meat permeated the air as she neared her destination. Even though she ate the donuts less than an hour before, she heard her stomach growl.

Jasmine wandered over to a line of students that waited for their turn at the pizza. The line of her hungry peers moved in a shuffling gait towards their cheese-laden goal. She took the opportunity to look around at the volumes of bodies surrounding her.

A people watcher at heart, Jasmine enjoyed observing the ebb and flow of bodies around her. From the table of cheerleaders in their uniforms to the group of teens intently studying a complex four-player chess board, she soaked in their actions and reactions to each other. A blonde girl, at a table three rows away, leaned over to her blonde friend and whispered something in her ear. They both cracked up, laughing as they looked at the table across from them. Jasmine followed the direction of their gazes and saw an overweight girl bending over and showing off the top of a thong. She rolled her eyes as she realized mean-hearted people existed everywhere. She looked back to the table with the chess board and saw a brown-haired boy move a knight to capture a competitor's queen. The sun glinted off his braces as he grinned triumphantly.

It was finally Jasmine's turn to purchase sustenance. She chose a piece of vegetarian pizza. It looked like it had the least amount of grease and her stomach was starting to complain about her donut breakfast.

After she paid for her food, Jasmine realized she had hit that dreaded first day at a new school dilemma: where to sit. Jasmine hated this part of new schools. She didn't yet know the good places to hide away while she ate so she had to find an empty table, or at least mostly empty, to sit by herself. She didn't know why but she always felt like a spotlight shone on her when she ate alone. She hated the feeling that a beacon flashed over her head broadcasting LOSER over and over again. Anyone looking at her would assume that she didn't have any friends.

She located a table near the door to the cafeteria without people sitting at it. It was a perfect location so she could escape as soon as she had consumed the pizza. She finished eating quickly and left. As she walked out of the cafeteria, she glanced up at the clock. It was 11:49 so she decided to stake out her next class and possibly a couple others depending on how fast she could find the stage.

She located the classroom and looked at her cell phone for the time. She read 11:54 so decided to wait outside the classroom for the bell to ring. She put her back against the wall and slid down to the floor with a sigh. She watched pairs of legs stroll by as she thought about the future.

She couldn't wait to graduate and get out of her dad's house. Moving all the time sickened her. She hated her dad. Life in general wore Jasmine down. Sometimes she wondered what it would be like to just not get out of bed in the morning. She wanted a break from her depressing life.

Jasmine jerked when the bell above her head slammed her with sound waves signaling the next period. She had totally spaced out. She shook her head a little to clear the cobwebs then gathered her backpack and stood up. A group of students standing on the other side of the doorway from her took turns glancing her way and she grew self-conscious. She felt a blush rise from her toes and she ducked her head. She wiped her mouth quickly to make sure she didn't drool as she zoned out.

One of the girls broke from the pack and walked over to Jasmine.

"Hey. You new?" the girl asked.

"Yeah," Jasmine mumbled.

"Welcome to the jail we lovingly call Pershing High." The girl said with a smirk and a dramatic sweep of her hand, indicating the building.

The girl wore a camouflage jacket and combat boots. Her dark medium length hair stuck out wildly, done up in several pig tails.

"Thanks," Jasmine said, a small smile in return.

"I'm Alex," the brazen girl said, extending her hand. Her tan skin contrasted with Jasmine's pale hue as they shook hands.

"I'm Jasmine," Jasmine let go of Alex's hand and stepped back.

"Nice to meet you!" she greeted with her sparkling dark eyes. Jasmine couldn't quite place her heritage but with the camouflage jacket she assumed the girl also had military parents.

"Nice to meet you too," Jasmine reciprocated.

Pointing to the group Alex introduced everyone.

"The really tall guy is Mark. He's shy like you," she said.

Mark gave a half wave from the other side of the hall. Definitely over six feet, he stood much taller than Jasmine's five feet, nine inches. Jasmine loved the way his black hair contrasted with his pale blue eyes. He dressed conservatively in a plain t-shirt and jeans. He smiled slightly as he looked away and she spotted a charming dimple on his cheek.

Jasmine started to tell Alex that she wasn't shy but Alex continued talking.

"The smoking hot guy with the shaved head and soulful brown eyes is my boyfriend Derrik. The girl next to him that looks like his sister is his sister Tasha. The blonde is Abigail," she said, making her rounds in the group.

Jasmine agreed with Alex, Derrik was handsome. He stood a little taller than Jasmine, dark skinned and from what she could see, he had some finely developed muscles. He dressed in a form-fitting, pale polo shirt and loose jeans.

His sister Tasha looked like she might be a bit of a diva herself. She stylishly dressed in tight, white capri pants and a flowing multi-colored top. Her large jewelry matched perfectly. Her make-up accentuated her amazing brown eyes. Jasmine wondered if Tasha modeled in her spare time.

Abigail stood in the back. Average height, meaning shorter than Jasmine, she had long strawberry-blonde hair and a sprinkle of freckles on her nose. She only glanced briefly at Jasmine.

"Hi," Abigail said softly.

Jasmine wondered if she was aloof or just shy.

"Hey everyone," Jasmine said with a small wave. She turned back to Alex.

"Are you in 6th period Drama?" she asked the apparent leader of the group.

"Oh yes. I am the Diva of the stage here!" she claimed loudly with a broad sweep of her hand.

The group laughed. Jasmine smiled weakly, unsure how to interpret the statement. She had a hard time relating to drama people. She usually had a pretty good baloney meter but the eccentric people who worship the stage baffled her. At her other schools she kept away from those boisterous groups.

The teacher arrived and unlocked the stage door so they all filed in. The massive stage held several layers of curtains, props, scenery and other odds and ends. Chairs faced a whiteboard towards one side of the stage. Jasmine looked out into the vast, dim auditorium and wondered how anyone could choose to be in the spotlight.

She sat in one of the few empty chairs in the middle of the room and tried to hide from the dreaded introduction time. She should have known she couldn't hide. Drama class catered to people who loved center stage.

As soon as the tardy bell rang, Mr. V. Conrad, the Drama Teacher, jumped up and announced loudly that a new student joined the ranks. As he bobbed and weaved in front of the class while enumerating the benefits of adding new talent to the hallowed halls of society's mirror, Jasmine decided that he had way too much energy.

He was an African American man in fit physical condition, he kept his head shaved bald with a neatly trimmed goatee that he stroked as if he plotted Jasmine's torture. Jasmine thought him handsome and guessed several of the girls in his classes had a crush on him.

All eyes turned to Jasmine as he waved her up to the front of the room. She felt another body blush coming on. This time, she felt drops of perspiration forming under her arms as well as she headed to the front of the classroom. She silently cursed the deodorant company's claims of full day protection. Those commercials were a crock.

"Welcome Jasmine! My name is Mr. Conrad and this is the class," he said with a broad sweep of his arm. "You will have a lot of time to get to know each and every one of them as we do a lot of pairing up to work on stage essentials."

He moved constantly as he spoke. He used his body and his voice to emphasize his words and hold the attention of the students. Jasmine stood in awe at his confidence and mastery over his rich baritone timbre.

"Now, to introduce yourself, because everyone is curious about you, I want you to act out where you moved from," Mr. Conrad instructed.

Jasmine looked at him blankly.

"Have you ever played Charades?" he asked.

Her look of horror must have tipped him off that she understood as a smile spread across his face. Jasmine stank at charades. She stood as still as a statue, fighting fear and horror, willing the bell, signaling the end of the period, to sound and save her from the humiliation.

"You'll do just fine!" he stage-whispered to her.

She stood in front of the classroom desperately thinking of a way to act out Whiteman Air Force Base. Jasmine suspected no one in this class knew the air force built a base in Missouri much less the name of it. She felt the pressure mounting as everyone stared at her. She looked around the classroom, desperate for revelation or inspiration. Nothing came to mind. She vaguely remembered that Whiteman Air Force Base was named after 2nd Lt. George A. Whiteman, one of the first airmen killed at Pearl Harbor but she couldn't act him out and have the audience have any clue what she meant.

A random muse took pity on her and hit her in the head with a brick of inspiration. She straightened her shoulders and held up two fingers as a trickle of perspiration flowed down her back.

"Two words?" Mr. Conrad asked.

She nodded then held up one finger.

"First Word," he stated.

She nodded again then walked over to a curtain, moved it to the side and pointed to the wall. Her classmates called out their guesses.

"Wall?" a red-headed boy in the second row said.

"Brick?" a girl with blue streaks in her hair.

She shook her head no again. She gestured to the wall and a couple white shirts.

"White?" a small blonde girl in the front guessed.

Jasmine nodded vigorously and pointed to the guy who said white. She wiped a bead of sweat off her forehead.

"Okay, first word is white," Mr. Conrad confirmed.

She held up two fingers.

"Second word," Mr. Conrad stated.

She nodded then pointed to him.

"Black?" someone suggested.

She shook her head no.

"That's racist man." Derrik said from his seat in the back.

Several murmurs carried through the class. Some agreed with Derrik and others defended "black" as a valid guess.

"Teacher?" Alex shouted over the voices. Jasmine noticed Mr. Conrad's nod of appreciation towards Alex as the class's attention returned to the game of Charades.

Jasmine shook her head no.

"Actor?" Tasha guessed.

She shook her head no again.

"Handsome!" blurted out one eager female student in the middle of the room.

Several students laughed and the girl blushed. Mr. Conrad smoothly passed it off with a chuckle and a gesture for Jasmine to continue.

She pointed to herself and shook her head no. She pointed to a boy and nodded. She pointed to a girl in the front row and shook her head no again.

"Man?" Alex guessed.

Jasmine nodded vigorously.

"White Man? Is that a place?" Mr. Conrad asked, confused.

"Yes," she said; relieved that the exercise had ended.

"Never heard of it. Where is it?" Mr. Conrad inquired.

"It's in Missouri. It's the Air Force Base there," Jasmine explained.

"Oh! Okay. Thanks for being a good sport Jasmine. You may sit back down," Mr. Conrad instructed.

As she walked back to her seat, she thanked the lucky stars that her dad hadn't been transferred from Langley or Wright-Patterson. She could have been up there the entire period trying to figure one of those out!

Mr. Conrad asked the class to move their chairs into a circle and they read from a script out loud, working on emoting in their voices. Jasmine's blush slowly faded as she relaxed in her seat. The rest of the period flew by since she sat in the shadows except for a couple of times when she read.

When the bell rang, Jasmine pulled out her map and figured out where she needed to go for period 5. She read her schedule and saw the dreaded _Dance_. After locating the room on the map, she realized she needed to hustle if she wanted to make it there on time.

Jasmine slipped in the door to dance class as the tardy bell rang. She saw several girls in shorts and exercise tops spread out in small groups chatting. She figured she would survive the class as long as she didn't sprain anything.

The room spanned a dozen paces deep and maybe twice that long. Jasmine entered on a long wall. The far, long wall reflected her image. The short walls on both sides had bars she assumed people held onto while stretching. Large pads piled up in one corner, a piano in another corner held a stereo on top and a few folding chairs lay scattered in random places around the room.

Ms. Rico, the dance teacher, held herself like a ballerina and looked like one as well. Her dark hair, pulled into a tight bun, shone. She wore a black ¾ sleeve leotard with grey fitted sweat pants rolled up to her mid calf. Even though she appeared middle aged, she seemed younger due to a timeless beauty and grace. She explained what Jasmine needed to bring the next day and Jasmine sat out the period, watching the other students bend, stretch and strut as they learned where to put their feet.

Jasmine watched one girl the most. The girl stood taller than her, athletically built, beautiful, confident and graceful. After Jasmine heard her speak with a strong Russian accent to a classmate, she thought of European royalty. In her head, Jasmine nicknamed the girl the czarina. Appropriately, Jasmine did not warrant more than a glance from her.

While Jasmine watched the czarina, she yearned to be as graceful. The czarina leapt higher than the other girls, executed her kicks with more precision and her long blonde hair seemed to have a mind of its own as her pony tail elegantly twirled along with the czarina's movements. Jasmine found herself jealous. This girl would be famous one day. She had the natural beauty and poise Jasmine knew she lacked. The czarina had the grace needed to woo audiences. Jasmine could see her as prima ballerina on stage. She would be someone important someday.

When the other students left to change their clothes, Jasmine took out her school map and planned the route to her next class. Confident this time, she didn't need to rush to her next class. She walked into Family Development well ahead of the other students and stared at the tables.

Inwardly she sighed as her shoulders drooped. The tables weren't single student tables like in normal classrooms. Mini-tables with two chairs to each table filled the room. She would be nice and cozy with someone.

A few students sat at tables as she looked around the room. She watched as more students filed past her and randomly filled seats. She located the teacher and stiffly walked to him. Jasmine knew she would be assigned a seat and a partner. This always happened at every school. She figured she would be given the stinky kid or the trouble maker to pair with.

Her partners always tried to be her friend and "show her around school" even though she just wanted to be left alone. If her partner was a guy, it would be worse. He would try to put the moves on Jasmine and ask her out. She hated turning guys down especially when they looked desperate and hopeful. She tried to muster optimism that this class already had an even number of students. If Jasmine made the number of students an odd number, she could sit by herself! Her spirit buoyed as she entertained the idea of getting a table to herself.

Her palace of self-delusion crumbled around her as the teacher, Mr. Hagen, opened his book and she saw one table in the middle of the classroom with one student.

_Honorio Fuentes_ she read to herself.

Mr. Hagen pointed to the table and she saw two guys standing where Mr. Hagen was pointing. One was on the chunky side and clearly hadn't met acne cream lately. The other guy was probably barely 5 feet tall and thin as a rail. They laughed about something as she studied them. She noticed the chunky kid was holding a folder that had the Poke-Mon logo sprawled across the front. While she enjoyed the show at eight years old, she didn't feel the need to decorate her school supplies with it.

As the tardy bell rang she took a deep breath and headed to her desk. She studied the two boys, trying to decide which was the lesser of two evils. As she drew close, they said good-bye and the short guy walked to a desk at the front of the classroom and the Poke-Mon fan walked to the back of the classroom. She looked back and forth between the two in confusion until she noticed a third guy seated at her assigned table. She didn't notice him earlier because he was bent over, searching through his backpack on the floor. As he straightened up, he noticed her looking at him. He scanned her quickly then he turned his attention to the front of the classroom where the teacher was beginning the lesson.

Jasmine froze. She thought she prepared for the worst. She never considered that she might be the repulsive one in the table pair. Her table partner –Honorio, she remembered –was a Latino deity. Her eyes wandered over his body. His short, black curls on the top of his head invited her fingers to play. His long eye lashes whispered sweet-nothings to her. His caramel skin perfectly accented his dark brown, almost black eyes. His forearms, resting on top of the table, might have been hewn from stone. Her eyes wandered across the various muscles displayed nicely.

The teacher cleared his throat and jarred her out of her admiring examination. She heard some of her classmates snicker and her third full body blush of the day spread like wild fire. She hurried to her stool and fumbled with her backpack as she tried to get a notebook and pen out.

Her mind raced. At every school she attended, there was an unspoken understanding between her and anyone that was attractive enough to be on the cover of a magazine. They avoided her like the plague and she pretended to not exist when they were in her vicinity. Being table partners with this guy was obviously going to ruin that pact.

She stole a glance at him from the corner of her eye. He paid attention to the teacher and wrote notes. She realized that she still had her notebook closed and flipped the cover open. Unfortunately, her nerves endowed her with superhuman strength and the notebook flew off the side of her desk onto the floor. The noise of it hitting the floor interrupted the teacher's lecture and she felt everyone's eyes on her. As she scurried out of her seat to pick up her notebook, she heard more chuckles from around the classroom.

Her fourth blush erupted as she tried to regain her seat quickly. She thought the chair was closer and almost fell to the floor as her backside missed her goal. A strong hand caught her arm and pulled her up and backwards into her seat. She broke out in full body goose-bumps. A quick glance at the hand revealed it was Honorio who saved her from complete humiliation.

"Thanks" she mumbled to him as she ducked her head and tried to concentrate on what the teacher was saying.

Her arm tingled where his hand grabbed her. She congratulated herself on her smooth moves as she rubbed the tingle away. She also rubbed away the goose-bumps on her legs and arms. She would need to get control of herself if she wanted to survive sitting by Honorio. Even though only weeks remained before winter break, she feared it would be a long semester.

The rest of Family Development finished without any more incidents. Jasmine grabbed her notebook and pen, threw them in her bag and hurried out of the classroom as fast as possible. As she walked home, she wondered what surprises the next day would bring.

**Chapter 5: A New Friend**

Shrill beeping invaded Jasmine's sleep. She opened her eyes a crack and reached for her alarm clock. As she fumbled with consciousness, her dream faded away. She tried to hold onto it but it slipped from her mind. She knew she searched for something in her muddled brain but couldn't remember what.

Jasmine hated dreams like that. The ones that linger at the edge of awareness, teasing her, making her think she forgot something important. She hated the feeling that followed her around all day, causing her to doubt her memory.

On that sour note, she flipped back her sheet and blanket and headed to her bathroom for a shower. She thought about the previous night as the hot water sprayed her body and helped relieve some of the tension left over from her fugitive dream.

The night before she had finished unpacking her boxes and located her nightstand so she considered herself officially moved in. She also emptied a couple of boxes from the living room before she opened a bag of frozen food labeled "Quick Dinner" and heated it up to eat.

Her dad arrived home about 8PM while Jasmine worked on her homework in the living room. Her guitar lay next to her on the couch and she itched to pick it up but knew her math assignment came first.

"Hi Jaz," he said.

"Hey dad," Jasmine responded.

He hung up his coat in the closet and walked over to Jasmine. He looked over her shoulder at the books on the table.

"How's school?" he asked.

"Fine. How's work?" Jasmine replied.

"Good. Do I smell food?" he asked as he walked upstairs without waiting for an answer.

Jasmine fought the desire to scream at him that everything wasn't good and that she wanted to run away. She resented his obliviousness towards everything except for work. She wanted to throttle him to wake him up but knew it wouldn't help. She placed a calm, pleasant façade around her while inside she lashed out at the injustice of the move in her mind.

She kept quiet because she didn't want him to find another therapist with whom she could 'chat'. Ever since her mom died, he wanted to fill her with drugs and have her 'chat' with someone. He called each one a temporary crutch and a good listener. Jasmine assumed her dad missed the memo explaining that's what parents were supposed to be.

She dropped her pencil on the books and grabbed her guitar. She had started teaching herself _Hotel California_ before the move and she practiced fingering the chords until her dad came back downstairs in a polo shirt and khaki pants.

"Sounding pretty good," he said.

She put down the guitar after messing up two chords. She didn't have it memorized yet and her father's approval made the song less appealing. She followed him into the kitchen where they sat on barstools and ate the dinner she had prepared. After several minutes of chewing, Jasmine put her fork down.

"Dad?" She waited until she had his attention then took a deep breath. "When can we get me a car?"

"A car?" he retorted, choking on his last bite. His expression was one of surprise.

"Dad, I'm 16 now. It's time for me to have my own car," she reminded him since he seemed to have forgotten.

He rested his hands on the table and leaned back in his chair. To Jasmine his shock was frustrating. 16 comes after 15. She was 15 for a whole year so why did her birthday shock him so much? Adults acted so silly around birthdays.

"Well, I suppose it is about time," he said as he speared a piece of broccoli and shoved it into his mouth.

She smiled.

"I have $4,000 in the bank," she informed her father.

His eyes widened and she worried at his expression.

"We do still have the same deal, right? I save up half?" she asked desperately.

"Yeah, that's fine. I just didn't realize you had saved so much," he said with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"There's not much for me to spend my money on. I just put everything in savings," she replied.

"That was very responsible. I'm proud of you Jasmine."

"Thanks. Anyways, I have a couple ideas for cars. I just need to wander around some used car lots to find the right one."

Dad leaned forward.

"What kind of cars are you interested in?"

"Well, nothing too flashy. I figure something with 4 doors," she said with a shrug and took a bite of mashed potatoes.

"Do you know any models you are interested in?" her dad inquired.

Jasmine looked up at him in confusion until she realized he was talking about car models, not humans. _Duh_ she thought to herself. They were talking about cars.

"Well, I saw a Taurus and an Impala on the street and they look like they are nice cars."

He nodded. "True. Have you looked up crash test ratings?"

"Well, no."

"Why don't you do that? It will help you make an informed buying decision. Also, what are the average miles per gallon?"

She struggled to remain respectful as her father shifted into I-know-more-than-you mode.

"I don't know for sure. I think they are good though," she said uncertainly.

"Well, check on that too. Fuel prices keep rising so you need to know you can afford to drive your car after you buy it," he said.

"Okay." she nodded as she stared at her half empty plate.

"For insurance, I am willing to pay if you keep your grades above a B average. If your grades drop lower, you have to pay for it."

"No problem dad."

His eyes softened and he leaned his head to the side.

"I can't believe you are old enough to drive. It was like yesterday that you were running around in princess costumes with lipstick all over your face."

"Dad, I'm not a kid anymore."

"I know. Time just seems to go by faster and faster everyday."

Jasmine shook her head and stuffed her mouth with more potatoes. They finished the meal in silence.

Jasmine brought her thoughts back to the present, turned off the water and dried herself with a big fluffy towel. She lost herself in thinking about school the day before while making herself presentable. Except for her embarrassing last period, her day went pretty well. She figured she'd be able to tolerate drama and dance class. She wouldn't choose them again next semester but as her mom used to say, "you gotta be brave, try new things!"

She looked in the mirror as she felt tears welling up in her brown eyes again. She watched passively as the tears swelled and overflowed, carrying bits of mascara and eyeliner with them. The flow of salty water deposited bits of the make-up along her cheek, carrying some of the pain from thinking about her mother away. She wiped her face quickly with the back of her hand. She needed to get cleaned up or her dad would notice and might decide to be a parent and ask what was wrong.

Her concern about arousing dad's suspicion turned out unnecessary as she heard the front door open and close, followed by the sound of the car in the driveway starting. How typical she thought. He rushed out the door before she came down to avoid being around her. She finished getting ready then walked to school.

Jasmine arrived early like her counselor requested the day before and she smiled slightly for the camera. She hated every picture for which she posed and today was no exception. She sighed as she looked at the picture on her new student ID. She put it in her purse then headed off to find her first class.

First period was World History. She'd never been great with memorizing dates but she thought she would do okay. Mr. Alas didn't make her introduce herself to the class so he received brownie points in her mind.

Second period Algebra also went off without a hitch and it turned out that her last school was a little ahead. She relaxed as Ms. Gallagher explained the familiar equations littered with x and y.

She had a little trouble locating her third period Art class. She entered just as the tardy bell rang and looked for an unoccupied seat. The long tables were set up in a U Shape in the middle of the room. On the side closest to the door, there was a petite girl with open seats on either side of her. Jasmine hurried to the girl's right hand side and yanked back the chair. She saw the girl jump a little as Jasmine's sudden appearance obviously startled her.

Jasmine and the girl's eyes met. Alarms sounded in Jasmine's head. She knew this girl from somewhere. Jasmine studied her dark almond eyes and cute, heart-shaped face. Even though Jasmine couldn't place the girl's face, she felt as though she knew her.

Jasmine had never experienced this sort of reaction before. She stood and stared as she sought a reasonable explanation. Maybe they lived in the same town previously. It seemed a bit far fetched but she couldn't shake the feeling that she knew this girl. She felt it deep inside.

The teacher interrupted Jasmine's internal search for more possible connections by asking the class to pull out their projects and continue to work on them. The girls broke eye contact to look at the teacher as she gave instructions. Jasmine glanced at the girl again after the teacher finished talking but the girl had pulled out her drawing pad and leafed through its pages.

Jasmine walked to the front of the class where the teacher stood. She was a grandmotherly type, short, bubbly and huggable. She had stray drops of paint on random places on her body. A green drop of paint beneath her eye looked almost as if it was placed there on purpose. Its presence seemed more strategically placed decoration than splatter.

"I'm your new student Jasmine," she said timidly.

Ms. Arambula grabbed both of Jasmine's hands, surprising Jasmine. The familiarity of the gesture sent odd, warm feelings through Jasmine.

"Welcome to my classroom, mija!" Ms. Arambula said with an Hispanic accent. "Follow me dear."

Ms. Arambula treated Jasmine how she imagined a loving grandmother would when greeting a grandchild she hadn't seen in years. Jasmine smiled at her reaction.

She helped Jasmine gather materials to start on a basic pencil sketching project. There was a stool in the center of the U-shaped tables and on top was arranged a basketball, an apple, a tall mug, a glove and a sponge. The task for that day was to sketch the items as seen from her seat.

"The point of this lesson is to teach perspective, dear Jasmine," Ms. Arambula explained. "What you see is different than what Jeff over there can see. Show me what you see from your seat."

After Ms. Arambula showed Jasmine where the paper was stored, Jasmine grabbed a piece and headed back to her chosen seat. She looked over the shoulder of the girl to her left and saw an accurate representation forming on her paper. She sighed, sat and began sketching an outline of the objects on the stool on her paper.

After about 10 minutes, Jasmine leaned back and stretched. By now, several people chatted quietly as they drew. Jasmine looked around and admired the various works of art hanging on the walls. Some pictures were done in color and some were black and white. Various mediums such as pencil, charcoal, paint and ink were used. It was plain to see this school held talented artists.

Jasmine looked over at the left hand girl's paper again and her jaw dropped when she saw the detail in the girl's drawing. The girl added shading and texture that made the picture look exceptionally lifelike. Jasmine felt as though she could reach out and snatch the apple from her page to take a juicy bite.

The girl sat back and examined her drawing as well. She noticed Jasmine looking and smiled.

"You're really talented," Jasmine said.

"Thanks," the girl replied. "This has to be my best drawing ever."

"Well, keep at it. You definitely have a gift."

"Thanks."

She looked embarrassed and they quietly sat for a moment. Jasmine tried to think of something to say to her. The truth was the girl intimidated her. She was very pretty, wore trendy clothing and Jasmine couldn't shake the nagging feeling that she knew her from somewhere. That feeling made Jasmine uneasy.

Jasmine struggled to find words that wouldn't come off as psychotic. She could just imagine her own reaction if the girl walked up to her and explained that they were best friends in another dimension so they should be here too. If it were Jasmine, she'd file a restraining order as soon as possible.

"My name is Yumi. What's yours?" the girl asked.

Jasmine jerked back to the present when she heard the girl's voice. Jasmine couldn't remember the name Yumi from anywhere. She could not place how she knew this girl.

"Jasmine," she replied after a few moments of thought.

"Are you new?" Yumi asked, looking at her drawing again and adding more shading.

"Yeah. Just moved here from Missouri."

"That's a ways away. What brought you here?"

"My dad's job. He works for the Air Force."

"Oh."

She became quiet again. Something about her was so sweet that Jasmine didn't know why, but she wanted to talk to her more. Even though it was breaking Jasmine's unspoken rule against making friends, she wanted to know more about Yumi.

"So, have you lived here all your life?" Jasmine asked, trying to place how she knew Yumi.

"No. My family is not from around here," Yumi said softly.

"Where are you from?"

"Oh here and there. We move a lot," Yumi replied, adding a touch more shading to her drawing.

Jasmine relaxed as she felt a kinship. Maybe that was why she felt so comfortable with Yumi.

"I sure understand moving all the time. Whatever my father works on is all across the country so every year or so we relocate," Jasmine lamented.

"Whatever your father works on? What is his job?" Yumi asked.

"I don't know. It's top secret stuff so he can't tell me. He couldn't tell my mother either. I remember they used to fight about it,"

Jasmine blushed as she realized she had blabbed about her mom. She normally had more self control.

"Oh. Are they divorced?" Yumi asked.

"No, she died," Jasmine said hesitantly. She fought the sadness welling into a lump in her throat.

"I'm so sorry!"

Jasmine shrugged.

"Yeah, well, it was seven years ago," Jasmine said in her toughest voice.

Yumi reached over and hugged Jasmine. It was a powerful hug. Jasmine felt as though electricity flowed through her body. She had shivers down her spine. As Yumi pulled back, Jasmine could tell Yumi was as surprised by the spontaneous hug as Jasmine.

"I feel so sad for you. My mom and dad are far away and that's hard enough. I can't imagine how sad I would be if one of them died!" Yumi said with force.

Jasmine grasped onto a change in subject.

"Where are your parents?" Jasmine asked.

"Far away. I don't remember the name of the city."

Yumi looked uncomfortable with the topic but Jasmine had become really curious.

"Who do you live with?" Jasmine asked.

"Friends," Yumi replied with a small hesitation before speaking.

Jasmine could not contain her surprise.

"Your parents are okay with that?" Jasmine asked.

"Not really but we manage," Yumi replied looking extremely uncomfortable.

"How did you swing that? Are you emancipated from them?"

"No. There is just a group of us who are living together and going to school. We are all responsible so it works."

Jasmine sat back amazed. The thought of living away from her father with a group of friends never crossed her mind before. The ramifications flooded her mind. It would mean no more moves across the country. It would mean no more tense, quiet dinners with her dad. It would mean no more movers coming in and throwing her life into boxes without warning. It would mean she could make friends and keep them.

Jasmine tried to decide if her father would go for it. Probably not but the idea sent thrills through her body. She started to feel hope. Her mind swam with thoughts of a home that would stay home for more than mere months. She turned to Yumi and smiled.

"You have got it good, girl!" Jasmine said, slapping the table with her hand for emphasis.

Yumi's face relaxed and she started laughing.

"Which lunch do you have?" she asked Jasmine.

"I have lunch next."

"Me too! I want you to meet the friends I live with. They all have lunch next too!"

Jasmine realized she felt giddy. A long time had passed since she felt genuinely happy. The thought of permanence in her life caused her head to swim and a goofy smile took over her face. A plan began to form in her mind; a plan involving her living with Yumi and her friends. She decided she was going to be the best friend Yumi ever had or would have. Jasmine would walk through fire just to convince the others to like her as well.

**Chapter 6: Dilemma**

Yumi wrestled with her thoughts. She understood the ramifications of befriending Jasmine. It put her team and Jasmine in danger. Part of Yumi shuddered at the thought of what some people might do to Jasmine if the truth surfaced.

At the thought of Jasmine, Yumi searched her memory for a clue as to why she was so drawn to her. The bond felt instantaneous and permanent. It was the same sensation she felt that distracted her from the mission a couple of days back. She had never experienced anything similar and nothing in her memory lent any hints as to its origin or meaning.

The bond fascinated Yumi. As a student of interpersonal behaviors, Yumi detached herself from the situation and studied her feelings. The imbalance she felt on the interstate made more sense in context of the 1.2 minutes she lost when she met Jasmine's eyes in class.

Yumi felt certain that Jasmine was not a normal girl. Something was different about her. She had an almost magnetic pull that sucked Yumi in. Even though it made no sense, Yumi suspected Jasmine would play an integral part in the team's mission. How would she convince the team?

Honorio, the ever stalwart leader generally dismissed concepts that excluded something he could hold in his hands or see. He relied on his physical strength and struggled to accept intangibles like that into which Yumi delved. She doubted he and she would have spent time with each other if not for the arrangement.

Malika wrestled with her own demons. Her soul overflowed with anger and sorrow. Yumi knew much of Malika's behaviors also stemmed from a hidden well of anxiety and a lack of self-confidence. As Malika drowned in her misery, she was unreceptive to anything; especially suggestions from Yumi.

Joseph enjoyed laughing and his lack of a serious bone caused grief for the team. He came on the mission simply to test his abilities. He lacked investment in the end goal which caused the entire group unnecessary stress. While he wouldn't dismiss the potential of Jasmine, he also wouldn't add anything to her cause.

Tyrone. Dear Tyrone. Poor, overwhelmed Tyrone had no idea what he was doing. She knew why he came on the mission and guarded his secret but wished she could give him what he searched for. His quest would end in despair for he sought something that was not allowed. He would probably agree with Yumi but lacked the authority or confidence needed to make any difference.

Yumi pondered her dilemma. She was leading Jasmine to her team but her team wasn't expecting any newcomers. They would worry about everyone's safety with an outsider around and think Yumi was insane for bringing Jasmine to them. Yumi needed to convince them that Jasmine posed no threat to their mission. She must be allowed to interact with Jasmine and study her.

Yumi didn't understand it, but she knew she could not stay away from Jasmine regardless of the risk or affect to her team.

**Chapter 7: Rejection**

As Jasmine walked with Yumi, she felt nervous energy building inside her. She tried not to look like a total dork and start bouncing as she strode by Yumi's side. Her mood was obviously infectious because she and Yumi looked at each other and giggled like kindergarteners.

Jasmine marveled at her instant best friend. She grasped onto the thought of living with friends and escaping her father as the motivation behind her attachment to Yumi. She smiled to herself at the thought of freedom and the possibility of good friends.

Jasmine and Yumi chatted idly about the school and the greater Omaha area as they waited in line for food. The line slowly plodded along and the closer they came to their food, the more Jasmine's stomach churned.

They paid for their food and Yumi headed toward an exit. Jasmine looked at her confused.

"We eat outside in the same place everyda," Yumi explained.

She looked tense and didn't talk as they walked along. Jasmine wondered if Yumi had second thoughts about introducing Jasmine to her friends. Jasmine looked at her own outfit. She wore plain blue jeans with a plain royal blue baby tee. She looked at Yumi's chic Gucci pant set and realized she paled in comparison.

They reached an isolated picnic table and Yumi stopped short. Jasmine, distracted by her thoughts, almost ran into Yumi's fashionable back. Yumi quickly sat down and Jasmine sat next to her. Across from her, she met the ebony eyes of none other than Honorio, the good-looking guy next to whom she sat in Family Development.

The air felt devoid of oxygen. His stunning good looks immobilized her again. If she had been prepared she could have come up with a smooth greeting. Jasmine simply had no clue that Yumi would lead her to the court of the gods for a meal. She wondered where they hid the ambrosia salad.

"What are you doing here?" he asked Jasmine abruptly.

Jasmine stammered in reply.

"Why is she here?" he asked Yumi without waiting for Jasmine to answer.

The rude greeting caught Jasmine off guard.

"I...I invited her to eat lunch with us," Yumi replied in a quiet voice.

Honorio stared at Yumi in disbelief. Yumi seemed to shrink beneath his gaze.

"Tell her to leave," he demanded as though Jasmine didn't exist.

Jasmine's temper started a slow burn deep in her stomach. Most military kids learn to control their tempers. On rare occasions, Jasmine's flared up. Her mom blamed that on a branch of their family tree coming from Ireland and another from Scotland. She said Jasmine had a double dose of aggressive in her.

Jasmine opened her mouth to give Honorio a piece of her mind when Yumi stuck up for her.

"No. She stays," Yumi stated with force.

Honorio looked shocked at Yumi's response. Jasmine turned to Yumi and smiled. The cold look in Yumi's eyes as she glared at Honorio surprised Jasmine. Yumi and Honorio stared into each other's eyes in a contest of wills until a short, slender guy arrived.

Yumi and Honorio turned at the same time to look at the new arrival. Jasmine looked him over while they all exchanged silent looks. He stood slightly shorter than Jasmine. She guessed 5 foot 7 or so. He brushed his long brown hair back from his face. He reminded her of someone and it only took her a moment to figure it out. He looked like Joe Jonas from the Jonas Brothers. Not that she got caught up in the hype of boy bands or anything, they only occasionally appeared in her dreams, but she saw the smiling Jonas brothers everywhere.

"Have a seat Joey," Yumi said.

Jasmine almost fell out of her seat.

"J-Joey?" Jasmine stammered.

Joey sighed and Honorio rolled his eyes. Yumi ducked her head and looked like she was holding back laughter.

"You're Joe Jonas?" Jasmine stuttered out.

"No. Absolutely not," Joey answered indignantly.

"B-But Yumi just called you Joey. Are you trying to tell me you look like him and have his name but you aren't him?" Jasmine stuttered.

"My name is Joseph Winchester the third but these clowns call me Joey. It is merely coincidence that I look similar to Joe Jonas," Joseph replied.

"Oh," Jasmine said then fell silent as the three continued to exchange looks. They just stared at each other. Yumi and Joseph were looking at Honorio. Then Honorio and Joseph were looking at Yumi. Jasmine felt very uncomfortable with the long gaps in conversation. She looked around the table and school yard, trying to keep from fidgeting. So many new faces at this school surrounded her and she sought comfort by people watching.

Jasmine spotted the czarina from yesterday's dance class with a tall African American hottie heading in her direction. They weren't talking. They weren't touching. They simply walked but seemed connected somehow. She wondered if that was what love looked like. If it was, the czarina would be hard pressed to find a better specimen of the human race with whom to fall in love.

Jasmine studied the guy closely. Jasmine guessed his height around 6 foot 3 or so. As he tossed a piece of paper in the trash, she could see his well defined muscles flex. His short, black hair appeared recently trimmed. His skin was darker than caramel but not ebony black. It was a beautiful, rich chocolate color.

As Jasmine studied the czarina and her man, they drew close to Honorio, Yumi, Joey and her, and then stopped five feet from the picnic table. Everyone's eyes flicked to Honorio's face. Jasmine looked at Honorio, too. She thought he would be a whole lot more handsome if he wasn't scowling at Yumi. His words from earlier still stung. She wondered why she had to leave and why he demanded it so rudely of Yumi.

Jasmine searched his face trying to find zits or some other blemish; some imperfection to hold against him. From her vantage point, nothing marred his face. It was dumb but that made her just a little madder at him.

He looked back at Jasmine, scowling. She looked around. Everyone's eyes were on her. Yumi had a concerned look on her face. Joey looked stiff and uncomfortable. The czarina's eyes were burning a hole into her. Her man's eyes weren't angry but weren't welcoming either.

"You're still here?" Honorio practically growled.

Even though he scowled at her, the venom in his voice still surprised her. It hurt. He didn't know her. Why should he hate her? Unfortunately, Jasmine had to convince this group to accept her. She wanted stability and these hostile strangers seemed her only chance.

"Yes," Jasmine weakly pushed through a pesky lump in her throat.

"Go away," he replied.

Jasmine looked at Yumi. Yumi's eyes shone with tears and she clamped her jaw shut. Jasmine wanted to comfort her. Jasmine wondered why Yumi spent time with horrible people like these.

"Do you want me to leave?" Jasmine asked her.

Yumi shook her head no and Honorio groaned. Joey shifted from one foot to another. The czarina walked to Honorio's side and sat next to him. Her man followed and sat next to the czarina.

The czarina leaned in towards Jasmine and smiled. Her accent was thick and her speech vibrated with a rich timbre.

"So sweetie, where are you from?" the czarina asked.

"Most recently I moved from Whiteman Air Force Base," Jasmine replied.

"Was it a nice place to live?" the czarina inquired.

"As good as any." Jasmine shrugged.

"Why don't you go back? You're not wanted here," she scorned, grinning evilly at Jasmine then looked away in disinterest.

Jasmine looked around the table. Everyone's faces showed shock and a touch of shame. Jasmine couldn't believe the czarina just said such a callous and hurtful thing to a complete stranger. Jasmine felt her stomach shudder then try to jump out of her throat. She didn't want to be ill in front of these people who were obviously too attractive and stylish to hang out with her.

"Excuse me," she muttered then grabbed the remnants of her food and fled. She ditched the food in a trash can just inside the school doors and tried to hold in the anguish and misery that threatened to overflow. She pushed past a girl leaving the rest room and threw herself into a stall. She dry heaved a couple of times and tried to hold back the tears. She should not have let her hopes get so high.

"Stupid! Stupid!" she muttered to herself.

She struggled to understand the events at the table. Why were they so mean? This experience was a good reminder why she didn't try to make friends. If she didn't care, it wouldn't hurt when people rejected her. Unfortunately, she wanted them to like her so much, their rejection cut deep. She needed them to like her to be free of her father and her misery. She clutched her stomach as the bile rose again, the acid stung her throat and offended her taste buds. There was never anything quite like puking up a taste that could make one want vomit even more.

Jasmine experienced a moment of clarity as she realized that she reacted stronger lately than she should have. She cried herself to sleep two nights ago. She cried looking at herself in the mirror that morning. Now, she cried over some dumb teenagers. Then she remembered. It was November 3rd.

Her mom died exactly seven years ago.

Jasmine missed her so much. She needed her mom today more than ever. Jasmine needed her mom to gather her into a big hug. She needed her mom to run her fingers through Jasmine's hair and tell Jasmine those kids were dumb. Jasmine needed her mom to tell her she loved her. She even needed her mom to tell her " _This too shall pass_ " even though Jasmine hated it when she told her that while she was still alive.

Jasmine needed her mom to take her to their kitchen, cut an apple and share it with her. She needed her mom to tell her that she would find friends and that everything would be alright. She needed the comfort of her mom's presence. She needed the smell of her perfume. She needed the sound of her voice. She needed her.

Jasmine cried again.

Quietly.

Alone.

In a dirty stall in the girl's bathroom.

**Chapter 8: A Team Divided**

"Was that necessary?" Yumi snapped at Malika, appalled at her treatment of Jasmine.

"Obviously, yes," Malika snapped back.

"You were rude." Yumi pushed her tray forward on the table, done with her meal.

"Reality check, princess. There is no room for her here. Get over it," Malika looked around the table for support.

Honorio leaned forward.

"Yumi, you know we cannot make friends here. It is too dangerous," he reminded.

Yumi crossed her arms and looked away. She knew her friendship with Jasmine posed a risk to everyone. She also knew she would not back down.

Honorio reached across the table, his hand falling just short of hers.

"We need your focus. You cannot focus if you are messing around with a teenage girl," Honorio reminded her.

"I am not messing around. She's important somehow," Yumi said, trailing off at the end. She knew it sounded silly even to her but she also knew she was right.

"Yeah, right. She is the key to solving all our problems. The key to saving all of humanity even!" Malika snorted.

"Possibly," Yumi replied turning her anger towards Malika and her snide comments.

Malika stood and shoved the picnic table. It slid back a few inches and rocked from leg to leg a couple of times before settling back down. Honorio jumped up and stood between the two girls. He put his hands on Malika's shoulders and pushed her back a few steps until she looked away from Yumi.

Malika shook her head and looked down. Yumi heard the unspoken message passed between them. _You know better._

Honorio slowly turned around and met Yumi's eyes. She instantly looked down.

"Yumi. That is not to happen again," Honorio demanded.

She picked at the edge of the wood table with her thumbnail. Yumi cursed herself inwardly. She knew she crossed the line antagonizing Malika. It only showed that she lacked restraint.

"Look at me," he insisted.

Yumi slowly looked into Honorio's eyes. She saw his anger, fear and concern. They had to act as a team but her gut screamed that she needed to follow her instincts when it came to Jasmine.

"You cannot associate with that girl," Honorio ordered.

"I must," Yumi pleaded with her eyes.

Honorio looked down at the table.

"Why are you acting crazy today? Is your source disintegrating faster than we expected?" Honorio demanded.

Yumi shook her head in frustration. Of course he would try to blame it on something physical with which he could deal.

"No. It has nothing to do with the source. I need to get to know Jasmine, that is all. Consider it research," Yumi pleaded.

Malika turned around.

"Forget your research! It will get us all killed," Malika shouted.

"What kind of research?" Tyrone asked in almost a whisper.

Everyone gazed at Tyrone. He looked from face to face.

"What? I think Yumi knows what she is doing. If she feels the need to research, we should let her. I happen to be curious what she wants to discover. Also, I want to know what I can do to help," he justified. When finished speaking he swallowed hard.

Yumi smiled briefly at Tyrone then took a deep breath.

"I wish I knew what I was looking for. All I know is Jasmine is different. I need to find out why and how. It might not help us at all. It might be very important," Yumi explained.

Honorio shook his head. "I want to say yes, you know I do, but we cannot take chances. Stay away from her," he ordered again.

"No," Yumi said, rising to her feet.

She felt everyone's eyes on her but she kept her gaze steady on Honorio's face. His wide eyes showed her the depth of his surprise. His eyebrows furrowed and he leaned forward.

"This isn't a discussion," Honorio said through clenched teeth.

"I am aware," she said, leaning forward as well. "I am not a soldier which means I do not have to follow your orders like her," she continued, nodding her head towards Malika. "You need me here and I am willing to help but I will do this one thing. Do not worry. I will be careful," she concluded.

She turned and walked away from the table. She heard Joseph's chuckles, a slap sound then Joseph's cries of protest.

Once inside and out of sight of the table, she sunk to the floor. Her whole body trembled. The thought of disobeying Honorio terrified her. Even though she wasn't a soldier, she knew there were repercussions to defying him. He held power over her destiny and she needed to make reparations. Unfortunately, she needed to find Jasmine first.

Once her legs stopped shaking, she stood, brushed off her clothes and considered where to look. After a few moments, she headed to the most logical place for a girl to hide.

**Chapter 9: Potty Apology**

Jasmine stayed in the stall past the tardy bell to make sure no one would see the mascara tracks on her cheeks. She didn't want pitying looks or questions. She waited until she couldn't hear any movement in the bathroom then opened the flimsy metal door.

She walked to the sinks lining the wall across from the stalls. Her shoulders slumped as she looked in the mirror above the sink. Her mascara smeared down her cheeks and all around her eyes from where she wiped the tears as they fell.

Jasmine jerked a paper towel from the holder on the wall to the left and wet it under running water in the sink. She swiped at her cheeks and around her eyes, berating herself for letting everything get to her. It had been seven years. She shouldn't cry like a little baby every time she thought of her mom. She also shouldn't care what a few punk teenagers thought of her. She felt her chest slowly constricting around the wound in her heart. Never healed, she covered and tucked away the pain so it could not hurt her anymore that day.

"I'm sorry," a voice whispered.

Jasmine jumped and whipped around to her right, startled by a voice. Yumi stood by the door looking at the floor and fidgeting with a floor tile with her shoe.

"You didn't do anything," Jasmine snapped.

"I didn't do anything but my friends did. I am sorry they were so mean to you."

She looked like she would start crying.

"Oh well. Life goes on," Jasmine said, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Please don't be mad at me. I-I really want to be friends," Yumi pleaded.

Jasmine searched her face. She couldn't detect even a shimmer of deception in Yumi's eyes.

"Your friends obviously don't want me around," Jasmine stated.

"They were just ... surprised," Yumi said carefully.

"Really? 'cause they seemed rude. Why are you friends with people who treat a perfect stranger like that?" Jasmine inquired, throwing the sodden paper towel in the trash can.

"We have been friends ... a long time. No one else understands us," Yumi replied.

"I have moved around and not fit in all my life but you don't see me treating others like they are annoying pests!" Jasmine spat, feeling the anger swelling again.

She refused to let herself lose control again so she turned away from Yumi and took a deep breath. The deep breath helped so she took another one. She turned back around.

"I am just a little sensitive today. Normally the way Honorio and the czarina treated me wouldn't bother me so much but I'm ...well . . . not feeling good today," Jasmine muttered.

"Who is the czarina?" Yumi asked.

Jasmine realized that she called the blonde girl by her private nickname and still didn't know the czarina's real name.

"Uh . . . I don't know the other girl's name so I nicknamed her the czarina. She's in dance class with me and she's graceful . . ." Jasmine stammered.

Yumi laughed. Her laugh reminded Jasmine of wind chimes in a gentle breeze.

"Your description of the czarina fits Malika perfectly," Yumi replied.

Yumi's laugh calmed Jasmine. It helped her gain control and focus.

"So, I need to go to class now. I'll see you later," Jasmine bade, trying to walk past Yumi quickly but she put her hand on Jasmine's arm.

"I am sorry that my friends behaved that way. They are not normally like that. Please be patient as they warm up to you," Yumi said.

Her touch warmed and prickled at the same time. Most importantly, her face showed sincerity. Jasmine couldn't bring herself to stay mad.

"See you tomorrow in art," Yumi said.

"Okay," Jasmine agreed and smiled as she walked to drama class.

Jasmine survived the rest of the day by keeping her head down. She didn't make eye contact with anyone. In dance class, she made sure she stayed on the opposite side of the room from Malika. In Family Development, Honorio ignored her so completely Jasmine did not have to make any effort to avoid talking to him.

At home that night, she played _Get Together_ by the _Youngbloods_ and thought about her rollercoaster day.

"♫ _Comon people now, smile on your brother everybody get together. Try to love one another right now_ ♫"

The idea of a best friend and a way to escape her empty, depressing life with her father excited Jasmine. Yumi's so-called friends couldn't ruin all of that. Jasmine would need to win them over. Unfortunately, she had no clue how.

Jasmine reviewed everything she knew about making friends. She didn't have much experience from which to draw. The last time she remembered making a friend; she ran up to the girl on the playground and asked if the other girl wanted to play freeze tag. Freeze tag wouldn't cut it with this group.

Jasmine knew all of Yumi's friends wore fashionable clothing and most people her age cared about appearance a lot. If they didn't like her look, Jasmine could try to dress like them. Unfortunately, she didn't have a lot of fashion sense since she generally chose to ignore trends.

She walked over to her computer and powered up her internet browser. She typed "Current Fashion" into the search engine and hit enter. Millions of results popped up so she randomly chose a link to start.

The first link upon which she clicked led to the Paris fashion show. She clicked through the pictures and shook her head. One dress looked like a bath towel wrapped around the model. Another looked like mesh with lace randomly thrown on to the front. After she saw the picture of an anorexic girl with a tight bun and a feather sticking up over her head she decided that web site wasn't a good source for her. She would never walk around school looking like a starved quail!

She hit the back button until she reached the search results again and tried a different link. This one took her to the website for Elle. This one had a link to find out the best colors for her to wear based on her personality. With nothing to lose, she tried the quiz. After answering 10 questions she discovered that she was sporty. She looked at the bright colors recommended for her modeled on a girl with blinding tangerine eye shadow then shook her head. The girl on the website looked horrible. She was not about to go buy a lime handbag and paste on fake nails. She needed a realistic way to enhance her look, not fry her debit card or look like a clown. Besides, she was saving for a car.

She crawled several websites devoted to fashion. Some websites were a complete bust and the women looked ridiculous. Other websites had reasonable outfits. Most importantly, she picked up ideas on which items she could wear together from her own closet that would be fashionable.

After Jasmine picked the perfect outfit for school the next day, she thought more about what she could do to win over the group. She didn't think the guys cared too much about fashion. The czarina, _Malika_ , she reminded herself, definitely would care but did the guys?

Jasmine didn't know a lot about the male portion of the human species. She knew guys were trouble and only led to heartache. The perfect example was her father.

Her lack of knowledge worried her. She turned back to the computer to perform another search but hadn't a single a clue.

_"What do boys like?"_ she typed.

The search results fascinated Jasmine. Several results listed forums where girls asked the same question. Unfortunately, they were talking about relationships, not what boys liked to do to pass time or how to win them over. That sparked an idea for a new search.

" _How to win boys over_ " Jasmine typed enthusiastically.

Again, several results popped up that were about winning the boy's heart but not how to win over a friendship. She didn't want the guys that hung around Yumi to love her. She only wanted them to not hate her. Close to giving up, she divined one more idea.

" _How to become friends with a guy_ " Jasmine tried next. She hit the jackpot. She found an article on WikiHow.com that listed tips on how to make friends with guys. It said to sit near the guy but not next to him, and listen to him talk to learn what interests him. The website said not to hang around him too much if he's with his friends because it would seem like stalking. She read tips like if he doesn't laugh at your jokes, it probably isn't a good idea to keep trying because you won't mesh as a couple. Also, he might be shy so you might have to make the first move.

Those tips made sense to her. She would have to tweak them to accommodate the fact that she was trying to win over three guys. She took a deep breath and reassured herself that she could do it. She would have them eating out of her hand in no time.

Then, inspiration struck. Her mom used to say the way to a man's heart was through his stomach. Food! She would bring donuts to school tomorrow and share at the lunch table. This had to be the perfect idea.

Jasmine prepared for bed with a smile on her face. She had a plan. She and Yumi would be friends and once the group saw how cool she was, they would let her hang out at their house and next transfer she would stay in Omaha.

Bye, bye starting over again and hello stability.

**Chapter 10: Deteriorating**

Honorio stood in the center of the living room, arms crossed, expression somber. Malika and Joseph sat on each end of the tan microfiber couch. Malika slouched in her corner with her arms crossed and legs folded in front of her. Joseph sat with a black cat in his lap. He dangled a bit of string in front of the cat's nose, enticing it to play. Tyrone sat on the matching armchair situated at a right angle to the couch on Joseph's side. The notebook he scribbled in earlier now lay under the folded hands in his lap. Yumi had excused herself earlier to lie down so Honorio took the opportunity to discuss her erratic behavior with his team.

"It may be advancing faster than we expected," Honorio said.

"Yeah, that would explain her crazy behavior lately," Malika snapped.

Everyone shot Malika annoyed looks.

"Come on. What else do you call her zoning out randomly and not answering us? Now this stuff about some girl being special. It is crazy," Malika ranted.

Honorio sighed.

"I am not saying she is crazy. I am saying that we need to accelerate our plans before Yumi cannot help us anymore," Malika clarified.

Tyrone raised his hand. Honorio nodded to him, exasperated that Tyrone felt the need to raise his hand for permission to speak like he was a young one.

"I have been experimenting a bit. I might be able to slow down the deterioration," Tyrone stated.

Everyone sat up, exchanged glances and leaned in to Tyrone. He leaned away a bit, uncomfortable under such close scrutiny.

"Come on you ninny. Out with it," spat Malika.

Joseph turned and faced Malika.

"Seriously? Ninny? That is the best you can do?" Joseph mocked.

"I can come up with better words for your careless hide," Malika spat.

"Well, what ever they are, please do not steal them from the BBC channel. We are in America, ninny," Joseph laughed.

Malika's hand shot towards the knives in her boot sheath. Joseph, seeing her move, jumped up and over the arm of the couch. The cat flew past Honorio's head, its nail catching the tip of his ear. It landed behind Honorio and meowed its disgust.

"Stop!" Honorio roared.

The others stopped any further movement. He glared at Malika until she shoved the partially revealed blades back into their sheath. He switched his glare to Joseph as he jumped back into his seat. He reached up slowly and touched where the cat scratched him. He drew back his fingers and glanced at the smear of blood on his fingertip. He shook his head. He looked up and held the eyes of Malika then Joseph.

"Why do you disintegrate into children at the slightest provocation? You both should know better yet at every chance you leap for each other's jugulars," Honorio shouted.

His eyes flicked between them. Malika glared back at him in defiance. Joseph resumed his relaxed position on the couch. Honorio wanted nothing more than to throw up his hands in defeat. They were not his offspring so he should not need to be the parental unit. He grew weary of playing referee.

Reminding himself that he had too much to lose if the mission failed, he took a deep breath and continued.

"If anymore blood is to be shed," he began, thrusting his blood-tipped finger towards the group. "Make it the target's, not that of someone inside the team."

No one spoke for a couple of minutes. Tyrone began fidgeting. He raised his hand again. Honorio crossed his arms, bowed his head then reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand.

"Yes, Tyrone?" Honorio said.

"So, this idea I have. Should I try it?" Tyrone asked.

Honorio waved his hand, not giving permission but sending the message that everyone should disperse. Honorio grabbed Tyrone's arm as he walked past.

"Go ahead. Anything is better than where we are now," Honorio said.

Tyrone nodded and walked upstairs. Honorio waited until everyone found somewhere else to be. He could hear Malika in the basement thumping on the punching bag. Joseph had leaped up the stairs then a couple of minutes later ran back down and out the door in his running gear.

Honorio walked to the couch and sat down. He leaned back, draped one arm across his eyes and wished for a solution. He was failing as a leader. Even the arrangement failed him with Yumi. He yearned for home. He wondered, not for the first time, if agreeing to the mission had been a huge mistake.

**Chapter 11: Look Out Diva**

Instead of her usual dreams about being a star and dating hunky boys, Jasmine woke in the morning with blue swirls dancing in her head. She shook off the dream and headed to the shower.

That day at school, Jasmine felt like a boy's slow-motion fantasy on the move. She wondered if the sun framed her head perfectly and created a halo around her stylishly curled and half-pulled-up hair. She waited for a breeze to magically rush up behind her and flutter her white peasant's shirt around her tan slacks. Her mom's old jewelry that she found last night added the magical touch to her outfit. She wore a tan and brown necklace with matching earrings and bangle bracelets. Heads turned in the hall as she walked past. Guys drooled at her feet begging for her number.

Okay, Jasmine admitted to herself, maybe no one is drooling or begging but people are taking a second look. She wasn't just wallpaper that day. She stood out in a good way and people noticed.

Unfortunately, she was a jittery mess all morning. She kept dropping things during class, fidgeting and looking at the clock. She worried and bubbled with excitement at the same time. She fluctuated between confidence that her new-found glamour would make her a shoo-in with Yumi's friends and self-conscious that she could not hide in the shadows and melt into the background.

In Algebra class, she dropped her pencil. It clattered on the floor then rolled under her chair and continued rolling behind her. She spun around and a guy two seats back bent over and picked it up for her. When he straightened up, she recognized him. Mark from drama class held her pencil out to her. She smiled and mouthed the word " _thanks_ " as she took it from his hand. He shrugged and smiled back.

His crooked smile caused a weird reaction in Jasmine. She pushed her hair behind her ear and felt her cheeks warming. Her stomach flip-flopped and her heart beat faster. She considered the possibility of needing the articles about how to win a boy's heart after all. If she stayed in Omaha, she might consider trying out the whole dating thing –if someone was willing to date her. She hoped that someone was sitting behind her right then.

Jasmine spent the rest of Algebra alternating between day dreams of staying in Omaha and anxiety that she would fail in her attempts to win over Yumi's friends. Jasmine basically ran to Art class. She sat down and waited for Yumi to arrive. When Yumi finally walked in the door, she stood up and posed.

Yumi stopped just inside the doorway and looked at her with a perplexed expression. She walked over to Jasmine and smiled.

"You look nice Jasmine!" Yumi said.

"Thank ya ma'am.

"You are welcome."

"So do you think this will impress your friends?" Jasmine asked, twirling in front of Yumi.

"Impress them?" Yumi asked.

"Yes. So I can hang out with you guys."

She hung her purse from the back of her chair and looked at Jasmine with her head cocked to one side.

"Why would your appearance influence whether you can spend time with us?" Yumi inquired.

"You know, so they won't be embarrassed to be seen with me," Jasmine said.

Yumi looked honestly confused. She would have responded but the tardy bell rang and Mrs. Arambula gave them their new assignment. After about 10 minutes most students in the room had their drawing materials deployed and had started into their projects. The low hum of conversations filled the room as usual.

"Jasmine? Why would your appearance effect how someone viewed you?" Yumi asked.

Jasmine took a few moments to study Yumi's face and see if she was joking or not. Her face was relaxed as she looked at the paper in front of her. Jasmine looked down and saw feathers growing on the paper from the inks Yumi brushed along the page. Jasmine caught her breath and marveled at the beauty created before her eyes. Yumi's hand seemed to merely be a conduit for the pictures flowing from her mind.

"Jasmine?" Yumi called, trying to get Jasmine's attention.

She looked up. Yumi was looking at her. She was waiting for something.

"Oh. Why does the way I look matter? Ummm . . . well, it's an image thing. Isn't fashion a factor where you are from?" Jasmine asked.

Yumi thought for a moment.

"No. Appearance does not impact how a person is perceived," Yumi stated.

"Really?" Jasmine replied incredulously.

Yumi halted her pen strokes and looked directly at Jasmine.

"Where I am from a person is judged by their actions. How they look when they act is not important," Yumi stated.

"Weird. Well, nice too. Image is really important here. I'm sure it matters in wherever in Eastern Europe Malika is from," Jasmine said.

"I do not think Malika is concerned with image either," Yumi said, chuckling.

"I do. I'm sure when I show her how fashionable I can be she won't be embarrassed to be seen with me."

Yumi sighed.

"Jasmine, do not be so concerned with how others view you. You are a good person. That is all that matters," Yumi said.

"Thanks Yumi. You're not so bad yourself," Jasmine said.

She laughed.

They drew for the rest of the period in companionable silence.

When the bell rang signaling the end of the class period, Yumi glanced at Jasmine. Her expression was one of regret. Before she could say anything Jasmine was on her way out of the classroom.

"Gotta run. See you later!" Jasmine exclaimed.

Jasmine grabbed her backpack and scooted out the door. She practically ran to her locker in her excitement. She spun the combination lock quickly, threw the door open, reached in and grabbed the box of donuts she had bought that morning. She put on a big smile and marched to the picnic bench where the group always ate.

Alone at the table sat the one African American guy that Jasmine hadn't met. He was sitting so that his back faced her as he played with something on the table. She walked up behind him and opened the box.

"Hi!" Jasmine said.

He jumped slightly away from her. His eyes opened wide and his mouth dropped.

"My name is Jasmine. We haven't officially met yet," she continued.

"Uhhh...." he said, looking around as she continued.

"Have a donut. They are really yummy."

"Thanks," he said warily as he reached in the box and pulled one out.

"So, what's your name?" she asked as she sat down across from him.

"Tyrone."

"Hi Tyrone, I'm Jasmine," she said, extending her hand across the table to shake his.

He started at her hand.

"I know. You said your name before," Tyrone said in a flat tone.

"Right," she said, pulling her hand back and cringed inside. She laid the charm on way too thick. By the way he kept looking around like he needed someone to save him; she could see that she was freaking him out. She spotted the device he was playing with. She remembered that the website said to learn what guys are interested in.

"So what's that?" she asked, pointing to the object in his hands.

"It's an experiment," he replied.

He was still glancing over his shoulder and shifting around.

"What are you experimenting with?" she asked.

"Perpetual motion," he said in an offhand manner as if it were a common topic to discuss over lunch.

Jasmine vaguely knew what he was talking about but she needed to get him talking.

"So, what about perpetual motion?" Jasmine asked.

"I'm testing to see if it is actually possible," Tyrone stated.

"Really? Why wouldn't it be possible?"

He looked up at Jasmine and his eyes searched her face. She inwardly rejoiced seeing his attention shift to her.

"How much do you know about perpetual motion?" he asked.

"Not much." she admitted. "I know it has something to do with something not stopping but that's it," she replied.

"Correct. How much do you know about the laws of thermodynamics?"

"Uh. Not much."

"Basically, you can't create or destroy energy and entropy likes to happen in one direction. For example, thermal energy likes to move to areas of lower temperature, not higher temperature."

Jasmine wasn't sure what he was talking about but his eyes had lit up and he leaned towards her so she knew this topic interested him. She kept her expression neutral and nodded her head.

"So it has something to do with temperature? she asked.

"To have a true perpetual motion machine, it needs to be able to move for eternity without stopping and without adding outside energy sources like a motor. Using magnets or other outside forces precludes the device from being an actual perpetual motion machine. There are several good ideas for these devices but the problem is that friction, –which creates heat –gravity and other forces interfere in the process," he explained.

"And you want to build a true perpetual motion machine?" she asked.

Tyrone was really excited at that point. He smiled and leaned forward towards Jasmine.

"Exactly! It would be a clean energy source, available to all and would elevate Earth's people out of poverty," Tyrone finished triumphantly.

"And it is impossible," interjected another voice.

They both looked up and saw Joseph walking up to them. He grabbed a donut out of the box and took a big bite.

"It is possible. I just haven't figured it out yet," Tyrone muttered. His previous enthusiasm disappeared and he sat sullenly in his chair.

"Whatever," Joseph said with his mouth full. He glanced at Jasmine. "You're a brave little one, aren't you?"

"Huh?" Jasmine replied.

"After yesterday, I figured you would stay clear of Malika," he said as he plopped his bag on the table and sat next to Tyrone.

"Well, I figure that we should all get to know each other. I brought donuts as a peace offering," Jasmine said with a smile.

"Right. I'm sure Malika will go for that especially since she is the health food nut," Joseph mocked. Tyrone and Joseph exchanged knowing looks.

"Oh. Well, she and I will just have a chance to talk today. I know it was sudden the way I appeared yesterday," Jasmine said.

"So you want to have a chit-chat with Malika?" Joseph asked.

Jasmine nodded.

"You want to gossip about boys and do your nails?" Joseph said.

She picked up the sarcasm from Joseph.

"Um. If she wants to," Jasmine said.

"I give her five minutes before Malika eats her for lunch," Joseph said to Tyrone.

She looked at Joseph then to Tyrone. Joseph was laughing and Tyrone was nodding.

"Is this a joke to you two?" she asked.

"You seem like a nice kid and all but we're not looking for more friends here. I get it that you're new and all but this clique is closed to recruitment," Joseph stated.

"Yumi seems to disagree," she argued, folding her arms.

"Yumi would adopt all the lost puppies in the world if she was able. That doesn't mean you are special or anything," Joseph said.

She had lost control of the conversation. She needed these two guys to like her and she was striking out. She thought she and Tyrone had a connection earlier but Joseph broke that bond with his snide remarks. She panicked.

"Well boys. I'll just leave you with these donuts. Enjoy your lunch," she said.

She scurried away passing Malika and Honorio on the way back into the school building. She went straight to drama class and waited for the Mr. Conrad to unlock the stage.

About ten minutes before class started Alex, Mark and Abigail walked up. Alex was wearing her camouflage jacket as usual and Abigail wore a simple white t-shirt and jeans. Mark wore a funny shirt that said cereal killer and had a picture of a tipped bowl with a couple of pieces of cereal in some milk.

"Abigail, I respect your right to think so, but you are wrong," Alex said

"I'm not kidding. It truly is better," Abigail argued.

Mark rolled his eyes. He spotted Jasmine and smiled his adorable crooked smile. He waved a little and she waved back. She bit her lower lip in effort to stop smiling like a lunatic. Alex walked over to Jasmine and put her arm around her shoulders.

"Hey Jasmine, how are you on retro movie trivia?" Alex asked.

"Uh, I know a little. How retro are we talking?" Jasmine replied.

"Abigail seems to think that the kiss at the end of The Princess Bride trumps the classic scene at the end of The Pirate Movie. I think she's insane. The Pirate Movie is cheesy but the story line is better," Alex said.

Jasmine shrugged. "Well, I haven't seen either movie so I can't help," Jasmine said.

"What?" Alex exclaimed. She pretended to swoon into Abigail. "You have not partaken in the joys of the classic cheesy 80's movie The Pirate Movie or Princess Bride?"

"Uh. No. I didn't realize it was required," Jasmine said.

"Well sweetie, let me take you under my wing and nurture you. If you are going to spend any time on the stage, this is important research," Alex said.

"I won't be on the stage but I will look for the movie," Jasmine said.

"I have it. How about you come over tonight and we can all watch it together!" Alex said.

Jasmine blinked a couple of times, shocked at the invitation. She didn't remember the last time someone invited her to their house to hang out. She stopped receiving invitations after mom died. Then again, she and her dad moved a lot more after her mom died so it was harder to make friends.

"Hello? Earth to Jasmine?" Alex called, waving her hand in front of Jasmine's nose.

"Huh?" Jasmine said.

"Are you coming?" Alex asked, looking at her expectantly.

"Sure. I can come," Jasmine replied.

"Yay! I can't wait to introduce you to fine 80's cinema. Come over at seven," Alex said.

Alex scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to Jasmine. The paper had an address scrawled across it so Jasmine folded it carefully and put it in her pocket.

"Abigail, you in?" Alex asked.

"I wouldn't miss it," Abigail replied.

"Mark?" Alex asked.

"Yeah. I'll come," he said and smiled at Jasmine again and she ducked her head so he wouldn't see her smile of elation.

"Yo! Derrik, Tasha, movie night. My house," Alex yelled down the hallway.

Jasmine looked down the hall and spotted Derrik and Tasha signaling that they heard. Mr. Conrad came up behind them and unlocked the stage door. They filed in and took their seats. Jasmine noticed for the first time that Mark sat to her right and behind her two seats. She looked over her shoulder and he looked back at her. She smiled and turned forward again as she felt her cheeks getting hot. The possibility of a boyfriend seemed more realistic if she read Mark right.

"Class, we are going to practice one of my very favorite things today. Extemporaneous speaking!" Mr. Conrad said with a large smile.

Jasmine heard some groans around her. She didn't know what extemporaneous speaking was so she waited for him to explain.

"Don't be silly! Coming up with something intelligent to say when you are on the spot is an extremely valuable talent. Some of you are very good at it so stop acting modest," the teacher contested. He waited until people quieted down before he continued. "I have a hat here. It's filled with several different topics. I will call one of you up to the front and you will pick a topic. You have one minute to think then you need to talk for one minute about the subject."

As she started to understand what he was asking, her stress level rose. She couldn't do that. Speaking in front of people was difficult at best for her. She spoke at the pulpit at church once and fainted. She barely made it through the stupid charades exercise he forced her to do on her first day.

"Let's see . . . how should I pick my victims? Shall I go alphabetically or shall I just randomly pick? Hmmm . . . neither. I'm starting in the back row and I'm working my way to the front. Alexandra, you are the first victim," Mr. Conrad stated.

Jasmine turned around and looked at the back row. Alex was in the same row as Mark with her feet on her table. She swung them down and stood up.

"Piece of cake Mr. C." Alex said.

Alex posed with a funny face as she dug in the hat. She pulled out a slip of paper and moved her lips as she read. She leaned against Mr. Conrad's desk as she pondered for a moment.

"Time to start talking Alexandra," Mr. Conrad said.

"I go by Alex Mr. C." she said.

"I like Alexandra," he teased.

She rolled her eyes then started speaking.

"The greatest menace to society today is the government."

After hearing the first sentence, people shuffled in their chairs. Jasmine heard a few groans.

"Not this again," someone nearby softly muttered.

Jasmine deduced that Alex was vocal about this subject to the chagrin of her schoolmates. Despite the fluid disdain Alex continued.

"Our government ignores the needs of our own country and sends young people, not much older than us, across seas just to push other countries around. Our government ignores the plight of starving children and grants tax breaks to greedy corporations who pollute the earth. The nation's budget is a mess and instead of cleaning up at home, the bean counters in Washington cook the books with fake entries like paying 120 dollars for a hammer. This is our money! How long will society ignore the menace that is caused by our very own leaders? If we are smart, we will kick out the greedy life long politicians and make them get a real job. Replace them with citizen representatives and we'll see real solutions instead of the drivel the current puppets dredge up for the people who hand them money under the table.

"Wake up people. Stand with me and fight the beast. Help me clean up Washington lest the beast grow bigger and swallow us whole," she said with rousing force.

"Well, that was . . . inspiring. Alexandra, take your seat. Tasha, you are the next victim," Mr. Conrad said.

Tasha sauntered to the front. Her aura of intense femininity awed Jasmine. She swayed her hips expertly and carried herself with poise. Jasmine envied her confidence.

Tasha reached into Mr. Conrad's hat and pulled out a slip of paper. She grinned and thought while Mr. Conrad watched his watch.

"Time," Mr. Conrad said.

Tasha took a deep breath and struck an alluring pose.

"There is one thing that is better than chocolate," She paused for dramatic affect.

"There is one thing that allures and changes men and women alike. There is one thing that keeps me awake at night, panting, wanting more . . ." Tasha said.

Jasmine shifted in her seat, uncomfortable by Tasha's actions. The topic seemed way too R-rated for a classroom. She waited for Mr. Conrad to stop Tasha or warn her but he waited. The tension in the room increased and several of her classmates leaned forward in anticipation. She definitely knew what she was doing.

Jasmine had to admire Tasha on one level. She had the whole room eating out of her hands. If the class bell rang signaling the next period at that moment, she thought everyone would have waited until Tasha finished speaking. Even Jasmine, as uncomfortable as she felt, wanted to know where Tasha was going with her speech.

"You all know what makes me shiver," she said enticingly and acted out shivering then struck a flamenco pose.

"Dancing by yourself. Ole!" she announced, shattering the suspense with a short dance step that ended with a stomp. The class burst into cheers and laughter. She waited until the classroom was quiet then continued. Jasmine exhaled; unaware she had been holding her breath, relieved that Tasha brought levity to her topic.

"The benefits to dancing by yourself are too numerous to fully list but a few are: you always have an amazing dance partner, you don't have to worry about someone stepping on your toes and obviously, you look amazing doing it!"

The class laughed as she waltzed in a quick circle then spread her arms and bowed.

"I must give a warning of caution. Take heed ye unwary," she warned, pointing her finger at several people in class. "If you have never tried dancing by yourself, do not try it tonight in front of your bedroom mirror. You have school tomorrow and if you start, you will not be able to stop. Even after exhaustion has weakened your muscles, your body will force you onwards until you fall unconscious in your bed. If you come to school yawning tomorrow, I will know what you were doing."

She ended the last sentence with a finger shake and a hand on the hip. The whole classroom laughed and clapped as she swayed back to her seat. Several people held up their hands for high-fives as she walked by.

"Thank you Tasha. Mark, you're our next victim," Mr. Conrad said.

Mark walked to the front of the room.

"How am I supposed to follow that act Mr. C?" Mark asked, half teasing, half serious.

"This is not a competition. Tasha, how many years have you been performing in front of people?"

Tasha thought for a moment. "Now Mr. Conrad, a fine gentleman sich as yerself ought to know better than to ask a lady her age!"

"This class is not about being the best or most experienced like Tasha or even Alex. This class is learning to step outside of your comfort zone and take a chance. I want you all to let go of self-consciousness and just be. Try to fit into another person's skin and feel as they would feel, not as you feel," Mr. Conrad said.

Mark shrugged and reached in the hat then Mr. Conrad watched the time as Mark thought. Jasmine realized she was leaning forward onto her hands and staring at Mark's pensive expression. She sat back and put her arms down in embarrassment. She didn't want him to think she was a freak and potential stalker.

"Time," Mr. Conrad called.

Mark put down his slip of paper.

"K. My most challenging moment in life was when I was facing down my enemy over a pit of lava on a rickety bridge."

Jasmine wasn't sure she heard Mark right. He had an enemy? He fought over lava? She glanced to her sides and saw other students smiling and nodding. She leaned towards Mark again, curious what happened.

"I found myself facing the ugly monster with only my bare hands to help me. The beast chucked fireballs at me left and right. I had to dodge to the side, duck and jump to avoid them. One nicked me and I couldn't jump as high or dodge as well."

She put her hand to her mouth. This story can't be real she told herself but the thought of Mark getting hurt horrified her. He was too sweet to be hurt.

"Finally, I saw my chance. Just as the beast jumped, I ran underneath him and chopped the ropes holding the bridge up. He fell into the lava and I was victorious! I grabbed Princess Peach and we all lived happily ever after."

The class started laughing. Jasmine joined them as she realized he was talking about a video game. He was never in danger. Well, never in danger of anything more than carpal tunnel syndrome from playing video games too much.

Eight more people stood and gave their extemporaneous speeches. With each speech her turn crept closer. She rubbed her hands on her pants several times trying to wipe away the sweat on her palms. As the kid right before her was called up, a drop of sweat rolled down her spine. She started blushing before it was even her turn.

"Jasmine, come on up," Mr. Conrad said.

She rubbed her hands on her pants one last time then stood up. As she walked to the front, she felt as though she were walking to the chopping block. She felt light headed and her legs were rubbery. She needed a miracle to get through this speech.

Jasmine reached in the hat and pulled out her slip of paper. She read it once but it didn't make sense. She read it again.

" _What kind of ice cream are you?"_ didn't make sense to her as a topic. How was she supposed to do a speech about ice cream much less what kind she was?

Her heart raced. She had no ideas on how to pull this off. The only thing she knew was that she liked any ice cream with candy bars mixed in. How could she relate that to herself? Mention the fact that she had a little bit of nut mixed in?

Her mind went blank. She felt panic rising and she tried to breathe deeply to calm herself down. She looked at Mr. Conrad as he tracked the time. Each second that passed on his watch was another nail driven into her coffin.

The bell ending the period rang, startling her so much that she jumped and yelped. A few people in class laughed. She put down the piece of paper and shook as she walked back to her seat. She gathered her things and headed out the door.

"Jasmine?" called Mr. Conrad.

She stopped at the door.

"Yes?" she replied.

"A moment please," Mr. Conrad said, gesturing for her to return to his desk.

She walked over to him.

"Jasmine, you seemed extremely nervous. Are you ok?"

"Uh. Well, I'm still alive."

"Have you spoken in public before?"

"I tried once when I was young. I blacked out so no."

Mr. Conrad handed her the slip of paper with the subject on it.

"Keep the same topic. Prepare 1 minute's worth and be prepared to present on Monday. I want you to pass, not pass out," he encouraged with a smile.

"Thanks," Jasmine said.

She didn't think it would help but she appreciated that he would let her at least plan out what she was going to say.

As she recovered on her walk to the next class, she didn't notice two people slip into the throng of students in the hallway and follow her to her next class. She didn't pay attention to the new steps she learned in Dance and Family Development passed as a blur as she struggled to think of what kind of ice cream she would be.

***

Honorio wandered down the hall after Family Development. He shook his head when he reached his locker. While opening his lock, his mind wandered to the class he had just left. He studied Jasmine during class and wondered what drew Yumi to her.

Jasmine lacked any outstanding physical feature that would set her apart from her peers. She stood a little taller than most girls in high school but not enough to be noteworthy. Her face held pleasant symmetry but no astonishing level of beauty. According to Malika, Jasmine possessed no astounding coordination.

What was it about Jasmine?

Every once in a while he could feel it too. He passed the twinges off as anomalies but there was something. When he caught her in class, he felt a connection but it unnerved him. He wanted nothing to do with the strange girl but Yumi wouldn't stay away. Why?

Honorio stopped at his locker and swapped his books. He decided to increase his level of observation. He needed to know more about this girl. His instincts told him that she could be trouble.

He shook his head as he walked to the car. Tyrone had finished preparing his gizmo for helping Yumi. They would try it that weekend and hopefully Yumi would be back to 100% by Monday. Honorio needed her back focused on the goal. It would be hard enough with her entirely focused. He worried what would happen with her fading in and out like she had been lately.

**Chapter 12: Pirates**

"A-a-a-s y-o-o-o-u w-i-i-i-sh!" everyone exclaimed in unison.

On screen Wesley, a.k.a. The Dread Pirate Roberts, rolled down a steep slope into the edge of the Fire Swamp. Jasmine glanced around Alex's basement television room in bewilderment and met Abigail's eyes. Abigail burst into giggles then threw a pillow at her. Jasmine caught it and threw it back.

Sitting on the left-hand side of the couch gave Jasmine a good view of everyone in the room. Alex and Derrik sat on the couch with her. Tasha and Abigail sat on the loveseat to her left. Mark reclined in the lounger to the right.

On screen, Buttercup whispered:

"Oh, my sweet Wesley! What have I done?"

Then she dove head-first after Wesley. The movie was amusing in and of itself but her new friends acting out scenes and saying the lines along with the scenes made watching it an epic adventure.

Earlier, Mark and Derrik had hopped out of their seats and imitated a duel on screen with a couple of fire pokers from a nearby hearth. The girls cheered as Derrik and Mark parried, lunged and ran around the room. Mark pretended to be the bad guy but inside Jasmine cheered for him.

Towards the end of the fight scene Derrik advanced on Mark who was close to the right arm of the couch. He jumped back to avoid Derrik's imaginary sword swipe and ended up tripping. He fell backwards onto the couch and landed across Alex and Jasmine. His head landed on Jasmine's lap and momentarily she could feel his silky strands in her hands. They locked eyes until Alex pushed him off and he fell to the floor.

They all laughed and joked as the movie's plot flew by. Watching the group interact was the best part of the movie. They were comfortable with each other and pushed, pinched, hugged, touched and smiled almost non-stop. Their level of comfort with each other was foreign to Jasmine. She had seen actors portraying this kind of camaraderie on television many times but experiencing the currents of companionship flowing around her defined true friendship clearly. Being accepted and welcomed into the closeness amazed her. It was what she would imagine home feels like to normal people.

The end of the night arrived too quickly. Of all the times for her father to remember and show up on time, he chose the one evening she didn't want him to come. The whole group walked her to the door. Abigail, Tasha and Alex all hugged her goodbye. She waved to the guys and left with her father.

"Did you have a good time?" Dad asked when they were settled in the car.

"Yeah. It was fun," she replied, gazing out the car window and spotted Mark peeking out the window next to the door. She smiled and waved with her finger tips. He waved back as her dad pulled into the street and drove away.

She rubbed her stomach and ribs. Her sides ached from all the laughing. She rubbed her cheeks as well. She wasn't used to smiling so much.

"They seem like good kids," der dad said after a few minutes of driving.

"They are," she said, still gazing out the window and watching the street lights fly past as she replayed her favorite scenes from the movie and the gang's imitations thereof. The best moment was definitely Mark falling into her lap. He had such soft hair she wanted to spend all night stroking it. Also, his eyes were a stunning shade of blue up close. Her pulse sped up as she thought about him.

When they arrived home her dad put his hand on her arm as she was unbuckling herself. She looked up.

"Jasmine," her dad said with hesitation in his voice.

"Yeah?" she replied.

"I know how hard these moves have been on you,"

She didn't believe him but she kept her mouth shut and listened.

"What I do is important but I am working to find a way to get us more notice before we move. I want you to have time to say goodbye to your friends when we move again," he continued.

"Yeah. Thanks," she said, fighting to contain her thoughts and not let them show on her face.

Dad had just confirmed they would leave again and probably soon. After her wonderful evening enveloped amongst friends, she couldn't move again. She finally knew what she was missing. She would figure out a way to integrate herself with Yumi's group so she could live with them when Dad was transferred again. He wasn't going to like it but she was staying in Omaha come hell or high water.

**Chapter 13: Mad Science**

Tyrone inspected his device for the fifth time. He ran his finger above the circuit board, tracing the paths and solder joints to ensure his device functioned properly.

"Please work," he whispered again.

This device represented his chance to prove his worth to the group. He was tired of Malika's sneers, Joseph's jokes and Honorio's condescension. He could contribute more than fetching supplies and his invention would prove it.

Tyrone finished inspecting the circuits and checked the power supply again. After satisfying himself that he accounted for every detail, Tyrone rubbed his hands together and looked up at the ceiling. The steady creaks of Honorio's pacing annoyed Tyrone to no end.

He clapped his hands together and ascended the stairs. He walked into the living room and nodded to Honorio.

"You're ready?" Honorio asked.

"Yes," Tyrone announced, looking at Yumi. She sat patiently on the couch.

"Finally," Malika sighed.

Tyrone stiffened at her implication. He clasped his hands behind his back and glared at her.

"If I took too long for your liking, next time you can build the modulator," Tyrone snapped.

Malika faced Tyrone and she began a retort before Honorio stepped in between their line of vision and held up a hand to each of them to stop any further conversation.

"We are all," he began, looking toward Malika then to Tyrone. "Under a lot of stress here. No insult was intended. We are all relieved that the machine is built. Some of us would have said it more tactfully than Malika."

Tyrone saw Malika stiffen from the mild rebuke and he relaxed, his ego soothed. Yumi stood and walked past Honorio and Tyrone without a word. Tyrone turned and followed her.

In the basement, Tyrone gently guided Yumi to the seat he had set up for her. He grabbed his tape measure and verified that her head was the optimal distance from his machine.

Tyrone felt a hand on his shoulder. Honorio stood just behind him.

"Are you sure this is safe?" Honorio whispered.

Tyrone nodded.

"I have checked it several times. It is not the same electronics I would use from home, but the effect should be the same," Tyrone said in a strained voice.

Honorio nodded and stepped back.

Tyrone looked at Yumi. She sat up straight and smiled slightly when she met Tyrone's eyes.

"Are you ready?" he asked her.

"Of course," she said softly.

Tyrone looked at his control board. All he needed to do was flip a lever and the equipment would shock Yumi's system and regulate her vitals again. He trusted his design. He knew he got it right. Still, his hands shook.

"So . . . are we going to do this today?" asked Malika.

Honorio shushed her. Tyrone took a deep breath and reached for the lever. He met eyes with Yumi and she nodded, indicating she was ready. He exhaled and flipped the switch.

Tyrone heard the equipment hum as electricity poured through it. He watched the contact point gradually turn a bright shade of blue. Yumi's body slightly stiffened as the contact point reached its optimum charge and the stored energy passed through her body.

Tyrone watched a monitor and verified the voltage and amperage remained within safe limits. He also watched the timer on the screen to power down the machine after 20 seconds. He glanced at Yumi. She remained stiff in her chair but her face looked more relaxed.

His timer showed 2 seconds left when Tyrone saw a spark in his machine out of the corner of his eye. He looked to see where the spark had originated and saw several more sparks. The smell of ozone reached his nose. He flipped the switch off quickly but not before whatever caused the sparks caused a power surge.

He looked at Yumi in time to see the surge hit her body. No! He ran around the table as her body lit up in blue fire. Then she collapsed into her seat as the charge from the machine died down.

"No. No. No," Tyrone repeated over and over again as he checked Yumi's breathing, pulse, heart rate and eye response. He felt relief when he verified that she was still alive.

"What happened?" Honorio said from Tyrone's side. Tyrone could feel the others crowding around him, also checking Yumi.

"I don't know yet. Something overloaded the system and caused a power surge," Tyrone said dismayed.

He checked the contacts on Yumi. Other than burn marks inside the units from the surge, the contacts looked fine. He breathed a sigh of relief that Yumi showed no burn marks on her skin.

"Yumi?" Tyrone asked, looking for a response.

He lightly patted her cheeks and hands. Her eyelids fluttered slightly but she did not open them. He turned to the rest of the group.

"She needs to sleep," Tyrone said.

Honorio gathered her up in his arms and walked up the stairs.

"What did you do?" asked Malika, her question laden with blame.

"I'm not sure what happened yet," he confessed, watching Honorio's legs disappear into the floor above them. Once he was fully out of sight, Tyrone walked over to his invention and searched around the area where he first had seen the spark.

"Way to go boy-wonder," Malika snapped.

She turned on her heel and stomped up the stairs. Joseph fidgeted.

"So, I know you are brilliant and all. That is why I wanted you to come with us. You know that I am completely worthless with this kind of stuff so I'll leave you to it," Joseph said.

Joseph clicked his tongue and pointed at Tyrone as he also walked up the stairs.

Tyrone searched the extensive circuit boards for a clue as to the cause of the problem. He found melted resistors and fried microchips but no reason. As he surveyed the parts for a second time, he noticed something peculiar near the power supply. He leaned in closer and found it. Still attached to two circuit paths that should never have been connected, a large moth, fully cooked, still smoked.

Tyrone collapsed in a chair near him. A bug? His invention had been fried by a bug? He cursed himself for not taking the time to fully enclose the parts. If it had been covered, the bug couldn't have fallen in to cause the power surge.

He dropped his head into his hands. He didn't know what effect the surge had had on Yumi besides knocking her out. She could be just fine. He grasped onto the hope that she would be okay and the mission would move forward. He shuddered to think what would happen if she wasn't okay.

**Chapter 14: Decline**

"Hey Jasmine," a voice said.

She looked up to see Mark standing by her desk before the tardy bell rang for Algebra class on Monday.

"Hi Mark. Whatcha up to?" Jasmine asked.

"Nothing much," he replied then shifted his backpack higher on his shoulder. "Did you have fun on Friday?"

"Definitely. You guys are funny!" Jasmine said with a large smile.

"What did you think of the movie?"

"It was great."

"Awesome. So do you want to hang out again sometime? I mean, with the group?"

"Sure," she said, smiling up at him.

"Sweet."

The tardy bell chose that moment to ring and saved both of them from trying to think of something to say to avoid looking dumb. Mark pointed back to his seat and she waved.

Later, Yumi walked into Art class holding her head. Her eyes were partially closed and her expression conveyed pain. Jasmine was instantly concerned.

"Are you alright?" she inquired as Yumi approached their seats.

"Um. I should be fine. My head aches," she replied, sitting down.

"Uh oh. I hope you're not getting sick."|

"I hope the same thing," she agreed, rubbing her temples.

"Do you need some Tylenol or something?" Jasmine asked.

"No. Thank you for your offer."

"Let me know if you change your mind."

"I will."

Yumi did not say much the whole period. She sat with her head in her hand and doodled on her paper. Even her pain-induced half-hearted scribbling made Jasmine's drawing look as though a child drew it. Jasmine let Yumi have her space and she played her weekend memories over and over again.

The lunch bell rang and Jasmine turned to Yumi. She was cringing from the sound.

"Let me help you," Jasmine said.

"I will be fine," Yumi said as she gathered her things.

Jasmine watched her repeated snatches at her pencil which she knocked further from her each time she tried to grasp it.

"Yeah, I'm helping you. Let's go," Jasmine said as she reached over and picked it up for her.

Yumi stopped arguing and let Jasmine carry her belongings. They walked to their lockers and dropped off the pencils and papers Jasmine had carried. Then they walked to the cafeteria. Yumi grabbed a salad and Jasmine grabbed two.

As they walked to the group's lunch table Yumi nearly stumbled several times. Jasmine divided her concentration between steeling herself for her next attempt to win over Yumi's friends and guiding Yumi to lunch. From Jasmine's past interactions with the group she figured out that Malika was the person on which she should focus.

Due to Yumi's slow pace, they were the last to arrive at the lunch table. Jasmine helped Yumi sit as everyone sat very still and watched.

"Here's your salad Yumi," Jasmine said, placing the salad in front of Yumi along with a plastic fork and a napkin.

"Malika, I grabbed one for you as well," Jasmine said.

Malika appeared taken aback. Jasmine held the salad out but she made no move to take it. Jasmine placed it on the table in front of her.

"Do you know what is in that?" Malika asked as she pushed it away.

"Salad?" Jasmine guessed as she arranged her plate on the table next to Yumi and sat down.

"It also contains insect parts, pesticides, animal excrement and sometimes the Ebola virus," Malika said as she sneered at the food.

Jasmine paused as she lifted a forkful to her mouth.

"What?" Jasmine asked, not quite believing her.

"I asked the cooks how the salad is prepared. They explained that they dump it out of a bag into a big bowl. They do not perform any washing procedure or ensure proper sanitization before serving it to the student body," Malika said.

"I'm sure they wash it at the factory," Jasmine insisted, taking a hearty bite.

"Actually, I have also researched that. Where do you think all the bug parts get mixed into the salad?" Malika retorted.

The discussion about what could be in her salad was making Jasmine's stomach queasy. She forced herself to take another bite, telling herself that it was clean.

"Oh, I think you just ate an antenna. Or maybe that was just a piece of roach leg," Malika taunted, making a gagging face then looked away.

The thought of roach in her mouth convinced Jasmine to spit out the bite of salad. Jasmine heard Malika laugh. She looked up and saw Joseph smirking, Tyrone looking to the side, Honorio shaking his head and Yumi looking ill.

"Malika, stop," Honorio stated firmly.

Malika sat up straight and stared at him. Joseph and Tyrone looked at Honorio as well. Then, everyone's eyes moved to Malika. After a couple of seconds, everyone's eyes moved back to Honorio again.

Jasmine fidgeted as she watched the other teenager's eyes bouncing from face to face. It was eerie for her to sit quietly at a table with a group of friends and say nothing. She couldn't decide if they were silent because of her presence or if they were simply too cool to chat.

Jasmine breathed a sigh of relief when the bell rang signaling the time to go to the next class. She grabbed the uneaten salads and threw them in the trash can on her way to drama class. She had struck out with Malika today but wasn't giving up yet. Jasmine couldn't bear the thought of moving again.

She turned the corner to the hallway for drama class and saw Alex, Derrik, Abigail and Tasha standing against the wall laughing. Mark walked up to the group from the other end of the hallway and Jasmine watched them greet him with shoulder slaps and smiles.

As Jasmine drew near, Tasha spotted her and waved. Everyone turned to see the one at whom Tasha had waved and a fresh wave of smiles spread among the group. The warmth of their greeting contrasted sharply with the cold stares she endured at lunch. While Yumi's group seemed more like people randomly combined to grudgingly cooperate, this group drew together from mutual affection. Even though Jasmine was determined to live in Yumi's house, she knew she would spend most of her time with these friends.

Jasmine wondered if she could convince Yumi to spend girl time with Alex, Abigail, Tasha and herself. She knew that if Yumi spent time with a real group of friends she would see how toxic her group was. As Jasmine considered the bliss of bringing Yumi to meet Alex, Tasha and Abigail, she decided that would be phase two of her plan. She needed Yumi's group to let her live with them before she tried to woo Yumi away from the dark side. She figured that such an effort at that point would further alienate her from Honorio, Malika, Tyrone and Joseph. A multi-phase battle plan to save Yumi satisfied her.

Her attention diverted when she remembered her one minute presentation in Drama class. She wrote a few thoughts down over the weekend but the anxiety of speaking in front of people overwhelmed her. Sitting in her seat in class, she started blushing, she felt her heart start pounding and she struggled to catch her breath. The dreaded moment arrived.

"Jasmine, you're up," said Mr. Conrad after he finished marking attendance.

Jasmine stood, face still scarlet red and walked to the front of the classroom. She walked to Mr. Conrad's desk and faced him, unwilling to turn around and look at the class.

"You have one minute. Go," Mr. Conrad said. He looked concerned as he gazed at her face. Jasmine could only imagine the shade of red on her face.

Jasmine nodded and slowly turned around.

"I, uh. I am like rocky road ice cream," she began, her chest muscles tensing along with her body. She struggled to inhale but only managed a gasp. Her muscles tensed more as her anxiety levels rose. She tried to spit out her talk quickly before she passed out.

"Life hasn't been easy since my," Jasmine tried to continue but she gasped again. "Mom died."

Her knees felt rubbery so she grabbed Mr. Conrad's table with one hand.

"So that's why the rocky part," Jasmine explained but couldn't remember what she had planned to say next. She just talked about rocky. The second half was . . . road. Road! She sucked in air and continued. "I also move a lot because," she continued but gasped again. "Of my dad's job."

The edges of Jasmine's vision blurred and darkened. Her head began to spin. She couldn't stand up straight any longer and felt herself falling. Her ears buzzed and voices sounded far away. She saw Mark's handsome face enter her field of vision and felt her body lifted and supported.

When the room stopped spinning, she realized she was on her back with her feet elevated. She stared at the ceiling in a dimly lit room. She looked around and saw Mark sitting next to her in a chair.

"Where am I?" Jasmine muttered.

"Jasmine, you're awake! You're in the nurse's office," Mark said.

The memories raced back and she covered her face with her hands. She blushed again in shame.

"Oh man," she moaned.

"We were worried when you passed out. Are you ok?" Mark asked.

Jasmine peeked in between her fingers.

"I'm fine. Just my self esteem is broken," Jasmine said.

Mark laughed.

"Naw. You're fine. You're not the first person to pass out in drama class," Mark assured her.

"Really?" Jasmine asked, her question almost a plea.

"Sure!"

"You're not saying that just to make me feel better, are you?"

"Depends. Is it working?"

Jasmine groaned and rolled away from Mark, still shielding her face with her hands.

Mark pulled lightly on her shoulder.

"No. Don't worry. No one cares. Well, everyone's worried about you but no one will make fun of you . . . Except for me of course . . . But I'm mean in a loveable way," Mark joked.

Jasmine rolled halfway towards him.

"No one will imitate me when I walk by?" Jasmine asked, panic rising in her chest as she imagined people fake swooning into each other as she walked by.

"Only on stage in a scene where it calls for a faint, in fact, your little episode was an eye-opener. No one in class has ever effectively imitated a faint before, not even Tasha or Alex. They always over-dramatize it. I think that will change now. There is talk in the class that you faked it to get out of the assignment. In a way, you will be revered,"

"Promise?"

Mark crossed his chest and held up a hand to heaven.

"Cross my heart and hope to die. Besides, if anyone asks, we'll just tell them you were overwhelmed by my magnetic personality. Who can stay conscious with this around?" Mark gloated, posing with his biceps flexed. He gazed into the distance, posing statuesquely.

Jasmine laughed at his pious face. He chuckled with her. After her giggles died down, Mark nudged her in the arm.

"Ready to try sitting up?" Mark asked.

Jasmine nodded and swung her feet down from the little bed upon which she lay. She stood too quickly and grew lightheaded. Mark caught her and helped her steady herself until the dizziness passed.

"Let's not make a habit of this fainting stuff, ok?" Mark said as Jasmine stood with a clear head.

"Deal!" Jasmine said firmly.

The nurse waved her out of the office with a warning about avoiding stress and to be more careful.

Jasmine and Mark walked down the hall towards the stage. Mark strode close to her, hovering as if waiting for her to fall again. The attention made her self conscious and elated at the same time. Too soon, they arrived at the classroom and Mark opened the door for Jasmine. She quietly whispered thank you to him and stepped through.

A girl from class stood at the front of the classroom and spoke about talking on the telephone. She glanced at Jasmine momentarily but continued as though Jasmine was not there. Jasmine quickly strode to her seat and slid behind her desk. Mark walked by her on the way to his seat and he touched her shoulder gently as he passed. She glanced up in time to see his smile and she returned one to him. No one whispered around her, making her feel uncomfortable. The class did not stop and stare. The lack of attention helped Jasmine relax.

After class Alex rushed up to Jasmine.

"That was brilliant. I don't think I could have faked a faint half as good as that one you pulled!" she praised.

"I wasn't faking," Jasmine admitted.

"Omigoodness! So, you really don't like talking in front of people, then?" Alex asked.

Jasmine responded with a shake of her head.

"Well, don't sweat it. We'll have you center stage soon enough," Alex grinned from ear to ear.

"Um. No thanks. You know how in High School Musical Sharpay's brother says they need fans? That would be me,"

Alex grabbed Jasmine's hands and looked her straight in the eyes.

"You can do it Jasmine. You can overcome your fears. We'll help," Alex said. Mark pushed himself between Alex and Jasmine and said to Alex,

"Give her some time to recover before you try to fix her. She had a rough day," he defended.

Jasmine, grateful for the intervention, smiled at Mark and grabbed her bag. She headed to the door but Mr. Conrad called her back to his desk.

"I'm sorry for what happened today," Mr. Conrad started.

Jasmine shook her head but he continued.

"You told me you passed out speaking in public before so I shouldn't have pushed it. We'll take baby steps. If you feel too much pressure, give me a signal and I'll modify what we're doing. We can't have you passing out every week," he insisted.

Jasmine managed a weak smile. She didn't like having any special considerations for her but she also saw the wisdom in preventing further faints.

Jasmine's embarrassment in drama class overshadowed her larger mission. She completely forgot about Yumi and figuring out how to convince the group to let her move in until Malika shoved past her after Dance class and Jasmine ended up slamming into the doorway to the locker room. Malika glanced over her shoulder then looked ahead with a smirk on her face.

Jasmine watched Malika saunter away. She shook her head in disbelief. Why were people so mean? Jasmine hadn't done anything but be nice to Malika yet she chose to be nasty. Jasmine didn't understand it but she wouldn't let it deter her from her mission.

Jasmine plastered a smile on her face and walked to Family History determined to emit a professional aura. She sat up straight in her chair and took copious notes in class. Her observations of Honorio led her to believe he respected discipline. She hoped her studious manner would impress him.

At the end of class her back hurt from her rigid posture and her hand ached from writing. She walked home in pain and without a clue as to whether she made a good impression or not.

**Chapter 15: Flattery**

The next day, Jasmine sat with Yumi's group at lunch again. Jasmine thought maybe if she sucked up to Malika she could win her over through flattery.

"Malika, I couldn't help but notice how graceful you are while dancing," Jasmine commented.

Malika glanced at Jasmine but didn't respond.

"Where did you learn how to dance?" Jasmine asked.

Malika sniffed.

"It comes naturally. I have had no formal training," Malika said.

"Wow! You're so lucky! I wish I were as graceful as you," Jasmine said.

"Wishing isn't going to make you something you're not," she snarled.

Jasmine realized she didn't prepare anything else to say. She assumed that talking about dancing would begin a conversation and she would only need to ask a few questions to lure Malika into opening up.

She looked around for inspiration for a new topic. Joseph ignored everyone and bounced a ball on the table. Jasmine watched for a minute as his hands and the ball blurred with the speed he used to manipulate the ball's movements. The ball thwacked against the table in an intricate rhythm.

Still at a loss for ideas, she looked around the table at the others. Honorio focused on his meal but glanced at Yumi from time to time. Tyrone completely focused on Yumi. He appeared to want to reach out to her but held himself back. He had an expression on his face like someone had kicked his puppy. Yumi's face had grown paler than yesterday. She grimaced and held her head quite often. Jasmine hoped she wouldn't catch whatever Yumi had.

Without ideas for anything else, Jasmine took another try at flattering Malika.

"I couldn't help but notice your outfit today. It's beautiful," Jasmine said.

Malika glanced at her form-fitting v-neck, long sleeved shirt then looked away.

"And you have such a nice haircut. Who does your hair?" Jasmine said desperately.

Malika glanced at Jasmine out of the corner of her eye and shook her head.

"No one does my hair. I do it myself. Why are you asking so many questions?" Malika said, obviously frustrated.

"I'm just making conversation," Jasmine said defensively.

"I do not want to make conversation with you." Malika said. "Yes, I am more graceful than you. Yes, I wear better clothes than you. Yes, my hair is more beautiful than yours. Why make conversation about such things? You are so pathetic."

With that, Malika turned away.

Jasmine clenched her hands under the table. She reminded herself to kill Malika (with kindness). Jasmine wrestled with her inner demon, swallowed her pride and smiled.

"Well, it's okay if you aren't in the mood. We can chat later," Jasmine said in a cheery voice.

***

The day after wasn't any better.

With the cooler weather setting in, Jasmine thought of Malika. She brought her a beautiful scarf to school as a gift. Jasmine even wrapped it in a cute gift bag with a note that said _thinking of you_.

When Malika reached the table Jasmine stood up and held out the package to her. Malika looked at the bag hanging in front of her face as though it were a dead rat.

"What is it?" she demanded.

"It's a gift for you," Jasmine said.

"From whom?"

"Me."

Jasmine shook the bag, trying to entice Malika into taking it.

"I do not want it," she said and walked around Jasmine to the table and sat down. Jasmine followed and placed the bag on the table in front of her. Jasmine then walked to the other side of the table, on the end by Yumi and sat down.

Malika grabbed the bag and walked over to the trash can and she threw it therein then wiped her hands on her pants. Jasmine's mouth dropped open. She knew rude people but Malika was a downright evil mistress.

"Malika, that was very rude," Yumi said quietly. The way she squeezed her temples as she spoke showed the strain for her to talk.

Malika strode back to the table and sneered down at Yumi.

"I have made it clear that I am not interested in being friends. I do not want gifts from her. If you want to pander to her, I can't stop you however, I want nothing to do with it," Malika said.

Jasmine wanted to be immune to Malika's venom. She struggled to ignore the pain Malika's rejection caused. She strained to keep a smile on her face but her façade was cracking. She knew she had to get away before she lost her composure.

"It's alright," Jasmine said as she stood and brushed off her pants. "I just remembered that I need to grab a book from my locker before the next period. I'll see you all later."

Jasmine walked with her shoulders back and her head held high towards the school until she walked out of the line of sight for the table. She let her shoulders slump and hung her head dejectedly. She wandered to drama and tried to figure out what she could do to earn Malika's good graces.

Jasmine considered giving up. After sucking up, giving gifts and generally trying to be nice, what else was left to try? As much as it pained her, surrender seemed like the rational thing to do.

When Abigail arrived at class and bumped hips with Jasmine, they both almost fell over. Abigail caught Jasmine before she toppled to the floor. They laughed as Derrik walked up with Alex under his arm. Tasha arrived right before Mark and they all chatted five minutes before Drama about a new action movie that was to be released in a month.

The reminder of what Jasmine would give up if she didn't keep trying strengthened her resolve to endure Malika's snubs. Her dad's hollow promise to give her a chance to say goodbye haunted her. She knew the move would happen abruptly just like every other time, prohibiting her from saying goodbye. She couldn't part from her new friends with or without a goodbye. Jasmine had to break through Malika's emotional wall. Her happiness depended on it.

In Family Development class, Jasmine walked to her table and spotted the gift bag she brought for Malika. She looked at Honorio and pointed to the bag.

"Is this . . .?" she began.

"There is no reason for a perfectly good scarf to be in the trash can. You should use it since Malika does not wish to. It appears to be warm and Omaha will be very cold soon," he reasoned.

The way Honorio spoke was odd to Jasmine. He used words that she would expect from her father. It was so practical . . . so logical. She expected him to open a newspaper and review the business section.

"Thanks," she said as she sat down.

His gesture of kindness was disarming. She had planned to go to the trash can after school and pull it out herself. The fact that he would think of pulling it out for her was a welcome but unexpected gesture of kindness. Am I winning him over? She thought.

Honorio turned in his chair to face her. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, confused by his behavior.

"Jasmine, I think it is time for you to stop being nice to Malika," Honorio stated.

She looked at Honorio in surprise.

"I know you are a nice enough girl but this is not working out. Do not worry. There are plenty of other friends you can make at this school," he continued.

It sounded like he was breaking Malika and Jasmine up. She rankled from his condescending tone like what you expect from an adult; the voice where he or she tries to console you but at the same time they expect you to obey because they know more than you. The experience was bizarre and infuriating.

Jasmine reached in her backpack and pulled out her notebook and pencil. "Honorio, I'm friends with Yumi and that isn't going to change. I'm just trying to be nice to Malika to avoid conflict. I'll just keep being nice to her and she'll get used to me," Jasmine said.

"She isn't going to get used to you. We all know that. It will be best for everyone if you just keep your distance," Honorio replied.

Jasmine looked at Honorio and tilted her head to the side.

"What does that mean?" Jasmine asked.

"Well, stop sitting with us at lunch for starters. You can say hi to Yumi in the halls but generally we'll all keep our distance," Honorio stated.

"Oh, I'm allowed to say hi to Yumi in the halls?" Jasmine leaned away from Honorio.

His arrogance astounded her. She didn't need his permission to talk to Yumi. Her earlier optimism fizzled as she realized she hadn't won him over. He didn't approve of her presence either. His silence at lunches wasn't apathy at her presence like she assumed. He simply let Malika do the dirty work of driving her off. Jasmine seethed with anger at him for judging her without knowing her and at herself for getting her hopes up.

"Well, good manners are always a good idea," he continued, clueless to the offensiveness of his statement.

"Dude, I don't know what planet you're from but you can't tell me who I can and can't be friends with," Jasmine said.

The bell rang and Mr. Hagen started the lesson, cutting off any retort from Honorio. Grateful for the interruption, Jasmine resisted the urge to smack Honorio upside the head. She needed to convince him her presence was a good thing and hitting him would not advance her cause no matter how good it would feel. She bit her tongue, twined her fingers together in her lap then left class immediately after the bell rang.

**Chapter 16: Confrontation**

Jasmine wondered if Malika was so mean because Tyrone, Joseph and Honorio were present so on Thursday she decided to catch her alone in the hall. Without them, maybe Malika would be less guarded and they might have the opportunity to patch up their misunderstandings.

Jasmine found her in the hallway after Algebra.

"Malika! Hold up a sec," Jasmine called.

Malika rolled her eyes after she saw it was Jasmine calling her name.

"What do you want?" Malika asked.

"Well, I just wanted to talk to you without the guys around. You know, get a break from all the testosterone?" Jasmine said.

"No, I do not know," Malika said with folded arms.

"Uh, okay, well, I was wondering, do you want to catch a movie sometime, have a girl's night out?" Jasmine asked.

"I cannot believe you are asking me this," she groaned and started tapping her toe.

Jasmine felt her nerve slipping away.

"I think that if we spend some time together we could get along," Jasmine said.

"I don't care much for movies, how about a little trip together?" Malika said with a sweet smile.

"Really?" Jasmine was surprised. She didn't expect her to agree so easily.

"Sure. First chance we get! Now, I need to go to class," she said, pointing over her shoulder with her thumb and half-turned towards her destination.

"Okay. Me too. Thanks!" Jasmine said.

Jasmine smiled as she turned around to head to her next class. She had finally chipped a little bit of Malika's resistance. Given a chance she knew she and Malika could be friends or at least friendly to each other.

As Jasmine took a step, she felt her foot knocked to the side and a push on the small of her back. She fell to the floor and her books flew out of her hands and across the hallway. Everyone in the hall stopped walking and looked between her and Malika. Jasmine heard their mocking laughter and jeers.

"Go away Jasmine. I do not want to be your friend. You are so annoying," Malika said.

Jasmine's cheeks burned as she picked herself up from the floor. Shock set in as she attempted to accept the depths of Malika's cruelty.

"What's your problem?" a voice called.

Jasmine looked up to see Alex standing in the hallway with her hands spread wide, glaring at Malika.

Malika ignored her. Alex walked over to Malika and stood inches from her face.

"Are you deaf as well as a jerk?" Alex shouted.

Malika sized up Alex who was several inches shorter.

"I would squash you like a bug," Malika hissed.

"Bring it," Alex fanned her arms out, challenging Malika.

A whistle blew and everyone looked up to see Mr. Johnson, the principal, standing in the hallway. He towered above the student body and spanned a good portion of the narrow hallway. His dark eyes flashed in his dark face. The students in the hallway near him ducked their heads and scattered.

"Get to class," he bellowed. The rest of the students in the hallway cleared quickly. Jasmine gathered her papers quickly and tried to blend in with the crowd.

As she attempted to slip past without notice he said,

"Are you okay Jasmine?" he asked quietly.

"Yes sir," Jasmine didn't dare look into the principal's face. She didn't want to see his expression of disappointment. It took everything in her to hold back her emotions. One more shock to her system and she knew she would start bawling.

"You tell me if you're not, okay?" he urged. His voice sounded mild, concerned even. She still didn't chance a glace.

"Yes, sir." She hurried past him to her next class and wondered why things took such a nasty turn for the worse.

In Art Yumi waited for Jasmine.

"Jasmine, are you alright?" she asked, concerned for Jasmine's well-being. Her eyes scanned Jasmine's body as though looking for injuries.

"Yeah," Jasmine said with a shrug and put her books on the table.

"I am sorry Malika hurt you."

Jasmine looked up. She leaned to one side, balancing herself on the table.

"How do you know about that?"

Yumi looked at her hands.

"I heard about it is all."

Jasmine looked at her for a minute. Yumi showed all the signs of deep remorse. Jasmine shook her head.

"I still don't understand."

"Understand what?"

Jasmine leaned her body towards Yumi until Yumi met Jasmine's eyes.

"How can you spend time with someone like that?" she asked.

Yumi picked at her finger nails.

"It's more complicated than I can explain."

Jasmine threw up her hands.

"Here's the thing, you sit in silence at lunch staring at each other and Malika says mean things all the time. Why do you stick around?"

"She is only mean when you are around."

Jasmine felt like Yumi had sucker-punched her. She shook her head, sat in her seat and wondered what she did to make Malika hate her so much. Jasmine didn't believe in reincarnation but it felt like she had wronged Malika sometime in the past and she was carrying a grudge.

Yumi sat down next to Jasmine and turned in her chair.

"That came out wrong," Yumi said.

"It sounded like it was the truth," Jasmine said.

"Malika does not know how to interact with people with whom she is not familiar."

"So she's a sociopath or something?" Jasmine asked, shaking her head, angry that Yumi was defending Malika.

"I do not think sociopath is the correct term for this situation. Her behavior is more accurately described as socially awkward."

Jasmine raised an eyebrow.

"Well, she displays aggressive tendencies and is not comfortable if she isn't in control of the situation," Yumi said.

Jasmine nodded.

"Okay. She's still a pain in the neck," Jasmine said.

"I do not know what to tell you. She is how she is and nothing I can do will change her."

Jasmine sat up and turned to Yumi.

"Hey, I have an idea. Since they obviously have an issue with me being around, how about you and I hang out somewhere else at lunch?"

Yumi's shoulders slumped.

"Oh. I cannot."

Jasmine shook her head.

"Why?"

Yumi opened her mouth several times, about to answer but shut it again.

"Because I need to eat with my housemates," she said finally.

"What's the point? You don't talk so why would they miss you?" Jasmine said.

Yumi sighed then shook her head and whispered:

"Maybe someday but not right now."

Jasmine sighed. She thought it would be great to eat lunch with Yumi separate from those people. She and Yumi could talk and laugh together and generally have a good time if Yumi would just get away from her housemates.

Jasmine spent lunch by herself in a corner wondering how things had spiraled out of control. She concluded that things couldn't possibly get worse.

**Chapter 17: Discipline**

"You have got to be kidding!" Malika sputtered. She looked around the table and realized they were all ganging up on her.

She glared at Yumi. This was all her fault. She was the one who started the problems with the outside.

Honorio leaned forward.

"You acted rashly. By physically confronting Jasmine in the hallway, you not only attracted the attention of our classmates but of the principal!" he scolded and thumped his fist on the table. "I expect better from you."

Malika shook her head. She was only fixing what Yumi had screwed up. No one else had the guts to do what needed to be done. Of course, it fell on her to do the dirty work. How dare they reprimand her? The injustice of the situation caused her stomach to twist.

Honorio stared at her. She squirmed under his gaze. She bit her tongue to prevent choice words from escaping.

"We have to change tactics with Jasmine. You will not confront her again. You will be nice to her," Honorio said.

Malika's eyes widened in surprise then narrowed in anger. She knew what was going on. Yumi had held the arrangement over Honorio's head. His weakness for Yumi disgusted her. Her over-stretched self-control snapped.

"I will not be nice to her!" she spat at him.

She shook in barely contained fury. Malika noticed Tyrone and Joseph lean away from her. She turned her fury on Tyrone.

"You," she said, pointing a finger at him. "You screwed up your invention and now she is worse off," she continued, shifting her finger towards Yumi.

She turned to Honorio and pointed at Tyrone.

"He screwed up royally and all you do is coddle him and make sure his feelings are not hurt. I try to fix the problem she started," Malika ranted, pointing back to Yumi. "And I am the bad guy?"

"They didn't attract the attention of an authority figure, compromising our cover," he said. With that, he rose to his feet and continued: "You forget your place, soldier."

Malika stiffened. He was in charge. If they were home, her words would cost her rank and possibly time in confinement. She closed her eyes and wished a bomb would fall on her head.

She didn't wish to go home. Home held nothing for her any more. Not since her arrangement had been broken. She would never attain a high rank because of her shame but she could be a deadly soldier. It was all she had left.

She heard Honorio sigh.

"Go home. Cool off. Pick us up after school," he ordered.

She opened her eyes and passively looked at Honorio.

"Yes sir," she said compliantly.

She held out her hand to Joseph without looking away from her commander's eyes. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Joseph dig in his pocket. He dropped the car keys in her hand with a sigh.

Malika saluted like a good army soldier and waited. If he was going to pull rank, she would make him go through every procedure and ritual. Mostly because she knew it irritated him but also to remind herself that the dancing and academics were only a cover. No matter how much she enjoyed her carefree teenage moments, it was a ruse, a fleeting moment that would pass.

Honorio sighed and dismissed her with a return salute.

Malika marched to the car. She drove home, parked the car and calmly walked inside then down to the basement. She stripped her Aeropostale shirt and neatly folded it on a chair. She kicked off her heels then arranged them underneath the same chair. She started to pull on her boxing gloves then paused. She pulled them back off and slowly walked up to the bag. She visualized Jasmine's face on the bag then jabbed a few times. The rough exterior of the bag stung the skin of her knuckles. The thought of pummeling Jasmine's face wasn't enough. She was merely a symptom of the real problem.

Malick switched leads and visualized Yumi's face instead. She jabbed, punched, jabbed then finished with an uppercut. One of the jabs hit the seam of the bag and ripped a bit of skin off. She ignored the sting and switched leads again.

Malika bounced from foot to foot. Slamming her fist into Yumi didn't give her the release she needed. She also was not the core of Malika's anger and angst. She pulled up a face banned from her thoughts; a face from her past.

When Malika remembered the blonde hair and green eyes, she felt a deep stab to her heart. Tears dripped down her cheeks. She swiped at her face with the backs of her hands then turned her pain into anger. She attacked the bag without control or form. She punched and jabbed in reckless abandon. She dipped her hip and uppercut the bag with such force that it bounced on its chain. She kicked the bag then spun into a powerful elbow that swung the bag from side to side. She sobbed and yelled as she beat her body against the punching bag. She struck over and over until the skin ripped off her knuckles and blood dripped on the floor.

When her fury induced adrenalin was spent, she collapsed against the bag, barely able to hold herself up with her trembling muscles.

"It's your fault," she whispered. "All your fault."

**Chapter 18: Considerations**

Jasmine was wrong. Things did get worse. Before Drama class Jasmine had to live through Alex retelling her humiliation to everyone.

"Seriously, that blonde bimbo tripped her after Jasmine turned her back! I was like, what? So I walked up to her and told her she was messing with the wrong chick," Alex said.

"That's my girl," Derrik cooed at Alex.

Tasha tsked, jut her hip out and placed a nicely manicured hand on it in the perfect posture to display her ire. Abigail's eyes widened and she gasped. Mark looked confused.

"Why did she do that?" Mark asked.

Jasmine stammered, searching for the right words to explain how she was trying to befriend Malika so she could move in with her. She couldn't find the right words to make it sound less crazy so she shrugged and said:

"She doesn't like me."

Mark still looked baffled.

"How do you know her?" Mark asked

"She's in my dance class," Jasmine answered.

Tasha put her hand out with one finger sticking up and waved it around in front of her.

"Well she better keep her tutu wearing butt away from me or I'll explain what's what," Tasha said.

Everyone assented to Tasha's statement with nods and minimally verbal rabbles of approval.

"If she'd pushed me, I would have thrown down with her right there but Mr. Johnson walked up. She got smart and turned around and walked away," Alex swore and clenched her fists and took a few swings in the air.

Derrik grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into a hug.

"There's my girl. I love it when you get spunky!" he gushed.

Mark put his hand on Jasmine's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry Jasmine," Mark said.

Jasmine shrugged.

"It's not your fault," she replied.

"I know but I'm sorry that someone from here would be so rude. It's not right," he said, gazing into Jasmine's eyes.

Her knees grew weak and wobbly. Her heart fluttered in her chest as her head felt as though it would detach and float away.

"Thanks Mark," she replied. He squeezed her shoulder then put his arm around her and gave her a hug from the side.

The physical pain of the fall and the emotional pain of the rejection disappeared as he held her against his side. Standing so close together, she realized he was the perfect height. If she were bold she could lean her head over and rest it on his shoulder. She hesitated and missed her chance as Mr. Conrad arrived to let everyone in the room.

Jasmine considered skipping Dance class. She wasn't sure her ego or her knees could take another fall. The military discipline side of her eventually won and she headed to class like a good soldier. She trudged along, dreading class, oblivious again that two people followed her in the mob of people in the hall.

Jasmine slid into the locker room and tried not to draw attention to herself. She quickly changed and darted into the dance class. She stayed in the back of the room to avoid contact with Malika. The extra precautions were unnecessary as Malika didn't show for class. With a breath of relief, Jasmine relaxed in class and even enjoyed herself a bit. She felt awkward and graceless next to the other girls in class but without Malika to judge her, she took more risks and performed more moves correctly.

As Jasmine walked to the locker room, Ms. Rico said:

"Good job today. I want to see more of that, alright?"

Jasmine nodded and smiled as she changed in the locker room.

In Family Development, Honorio was already seated at their table when Jasmine walked in. She avoided eye contact with him as she sat next to him and pulled out her class supplies.

"Jasmine, I apologize for Malika's behavior this morning," Honorio said.

Jasmine shrugged and looked at the front of the class wishing the bell would ring so she could avoid confronting Honorio.

"However, it just proves the point I tried to make. Stop trying to be nice to Malika. It's not worth it," he said.

Jasmine rolled her eyes. She could see him watching her out of the corner of her eye. If he wanted a response form her, he would wait a long time.

"Just back off, ok? I don't want it to get any messier than it already has," Honorio said.

Jasmine shook her head in frustration.

***

That night Jasmine attempted an acoustic version of _Break Stuff_ on her guitar as she considered how to proceed. She had struck out with Malika and couldn't take any more emotional or physical abuse. Every girl has a limit and she had reached hers. Honorio was obviously against her spending time with them. Joseph seemed to be a guy who simply watched and she didn't believe he would plead her case even if he approved of her. Tyrone was bookish but seemed like a pushover. The only person who openly wanted her around was Yumi.

As she pondered why Malika was so vehement, Jasmine could not think of a good reason for her hatred. She decided it couldn't be only her that set Malika off. Something else lurked behind her cruel eyes and words. Something Jasmine didn't know.

A secret! That would explain their behavior. It would explain why they didn't talk when she was around. Maybe they worried that she would hear something and figure out what they were up to.

She considered what secrets would drive a girl to attack. Nothing made any sense until she thought of drugs. Drugs drive people to do crazy things. She knew that a lot of dangerous people were involved in drugs. That would explain Honorio's warnings.

Jasmine spent all of Friday deep in thought. She avoided contact with Yumi's group as well as Alex's group. Her morning classes were lost on her. Art with Yumi was silent and slightly strained. Drama felt like a movie on television that she wasn't watching. Dance class swirled by as she kept herself as far away from Malika as possible. Family Development was tense as she ignored the teacher and studied Honorio surreptitiously.

She searched for ways to fix her crumbling plan. If Malika, Honorio, Joseph and Tyrone wouldn't accept her, she considered that maybe she and Yumi could live together instead. It would still solve her problem of moving and it would get Yumi out of whatever bad situation she was in. It was a win-win solution yet she struggled with how to convince everyone.

Saturday and Sunday crept by as well without revelation. Jasmine anguished at the thought that she wouldn't find a solution before her father would be relocated again. She slowly lost her battle against wallowing in despair.

**Chapter 19: Connection**

Jasmine struggled to concentrate the next day as she waited for Art class. She searched the halls for Yumi before school and in between periods but didn't see her. The first student to arrive in Art, Jasmine hurried to her seat and waited for Yumi.

She watched the other students arriving and thought about what she and Yumi could discuss that day. She didn't want to come off too strong so asking to move in was out. Weather as a topic was definitely out, that was just lame. She considered trying to sound mature by discussing current world events. She knew some group fought some other group over land or something somewhere. After a second thought, she decided against mentioning it since Yumi might actually know what was going on and Jasmine would just look ignorant.

Jasmine glanced at the clock. It was 1 minute until the tardy bell. She wondered how far away Yumi's locker was from Art class. It could have been a long walk on a campus as big as this school's.

Each tick of the clock's second hand built her stress. Jasmine worried. Maybe Yumi was sick or dead. Yumi was probably on the side of the road dying right at the moment and she was stupidly watching the second hand on the clock mark her last living moments.

Maybe, just maybe, Yumi was tied up in her home. Yumi probably stood up to those so-called friends and they decided to teach her a lesson. She would need to be rescued and Jasmine could be her hero. That would convince Yumi to move in with her.

The tardy bell rang and jerked her out of her thoughts. She looked at the door and saw Yumi walk in. She looked a little wilted so Jasmine's concern didn't wane. It veered.

"Hey Yumi," Jasmine said.

"Oh. Hello Jasmine," Yumi replied as she eased into her chair.

"You ok?"

Yumi held her head in her hands. Jasmine noticed her color was paler than the week before.

"Um, yes. Just a little cold."

"So, how was your night last night?"

Yumi gave her a bemused look.

"Fine. And yours?"

"Just fine, thanks."

Yumi continued to smile at her.

"So . . ." Jasmine faltered. "What's new?"

"Nothing. How about you?" Yumi said.

"Uh. Nothing new in Jasmine-ville,"

"Jasmine-ville? Where is that?"

"Um. In my head I guess. It's just a saying,"

Yumi started her wind chimes laugh but broke short with a couple coughs and a long cringe.

"Are you sure you're well?" Jasmine asked.

"Yes, yes. It's just a cold," Yumi replied.

Jasmine was not convinced. She started to ask if Yumi had been to a doctor when the teacher interrupted their conversation and introduced that day's art project. Both Yumi and Jasmine began sketching a picture showing dimension. Jasmine was again amazed by Yumi's talent. Even Yumi seemed a little surprised by how well her project turned out.

The bell ringing at the end of the period surprised Jasmine. She looked at the clock in disbelief. She watched Yumi gather her things and didn't want her to leave. As Jasmine watched, she noticed a necklace slip out of Yumi's shirt. The sparkling beauty transfixed Jasmine. A single round white stone wrapped in wire hung on a simple chain with three white stones on either side of the drop pendant. She reached out for it. The stone had sparkles and was smooth to touch.

"This is beautiful," she said with awe.

Jasmine pulled the stone closer to admire it. She glanced at Yumi then dropped the pendant to grab her. Yumi's eyes rolled up in her head, her back arched and she started to shake slightly. Jasmine guided her back into her seat.

"Are you ok?" Jasmine asked, staring at Yumi's face, searching for answers but finding none.

Yumi gasped for breath and could do nothing besides look at Jasmine with wide, pleading eyes. Jasmine looked around the classroom for help but everyone had left including Mrs. Arambula. She didn't know what to do for Yumi.

"Uhhh. I'll go get you water?" Jasmine suggested to Yumi. She didn't know what would help. She watched Yumi's face for an answer but didn't get one. She ran to a vending machine down the hall and threw in several coins. The machine took forever to spit out a drink.

Jasmine ran back down the hall to the art classroom with a bottle of water. She walked in and was shocked to see Yumi surrounded by Malika, Honorio, Joseph and Tyrone.

"Fix it," Malika snapped at Tyrone.

Tyrone's eyes had a puppy-dog quality to them as he answered Malika.

"I tried. She's only getting worse," Tyrone said.

"We can't finish without her," Malika kicked a chair so hard it flew towards the doorway where Jasmine stood. Honorio, Malika and Joseph watched the chair careen across the room and spotted Jasmine as she jumped out of the path of the plastic and metal missile. It was rent asunder as it struck the wall.

Malika froze with her hands clamped into tight fists, her face turned a deep shade of red. Joseph laughed once and turned towards the windows on the other side of the room shaking his head.

Honorio stomped over to Jasmine, his lowered brows threatening to completely obscure his vision.

"What do you want?" Honorio demanded.

Jasmine almost stepped backwards, intimidated by this aggressive side to him. Honorio's fury scared her but she refused to allow him to see any weakness. She straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin and strode past him.

"I got Yumi something to drink," Jasmine declared, lifting the bottle of water as proof. "She was woozy after class."

"You have class with her?" Honorio interrogated Yumi. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Yumi ducked her eyes. She looked shamed. The shame angered Jasmine. She opened the bottle of water sharply then glared at Honorio while handing the water to Yumi. She then gathered her things and left with a polite good-bye to Yumi only. She felt four sets of eyes trying to burn holes in her back but didn't turn around.

***

Honorio held Yumi as Joseph drove them home. Honorio looked at Yumi's face. She held her eyes shut. Every turn elicited a grimace from her.

Not soon enough, the car pulled into their garage. Honorio picked up Yumi and carried her into the house then up to her room. She appeared to sleep so Honorio backed out of the room slowly. In the hallway and down the stairs, he stepped lightly to avoid making noise. He spotted Joseph in the living room dangling a string over the arm of the couch, teasing a black cat.

"You walk like an elephant," Joseph snapped.

Honorio ignored the statement. He folded his arms and leaned against the living room door frame. He watched the cat attack the string in a fury of claws and fur.

Joseph interrupted the silence

"We can't do this without her."

Honorio nodded. Joseph dropped the string and glared at Honorio.

"Well? What do we do?" Joseph said, his panic leaking into his voice.

"We shift priorities. The degradation is accelerating so a new source is priority," Honorio said.

"Where are we going to find a compatible source that isn't local?" Joseph asked.

Honorio pulled a flier from his back pocket and showed it to Joseph. Joseph's eyes lit up.

"Is that?" Joseph said.

Honorio nodded again.

Joseph smiled then picked up the string and shook it until the cat pounced.

Honorio walked through the living room to the dining room and drafted the outline of the new mission. He worked quickly, keeping an eye on the clock. He had to return to school for classes. And to keep an eye on Jasmine he added as an after thought.

**Chapter 20: Repercussions**

After grabbing food, Jasmine looked around for Yumi but didn't see her. She didn't have the energy to really try to find her. She grabbed something edible from the cafeteria then walked outside. The weather was amazing so she sat under a tree and ate. She didn't remember nodding off but startled when the bell rang. She made a note to herself that she needed to avoid getting mad again. It drained too much energy.

Drama class wasn't so bad. The class read from a script so Jasmine sat for almost an hour. She felt a little better by the end of class. It didn't hurt that Mark and Jasmine got to read the parts of a husband and wife in the script. Jasmine enjoyed calling Mark honey even though she blushed every time she said it. To her, it felt right somehow.

On the way to dance class, reality set back in. Her only chance of having a boyfriend was to find a way to escape her father's house. That reminded her of Yumi. She needed to find a way to free Yumi from her horrible group of friends. Jasmine also worried about Yumi's illness. It didn't seem normal.

She considered skipping dance class. Seeing Malika's perfect figure and graceful moves made her self-conscious and jealous. She trudged to class slowly. She walked in the locker room and noticed it was empty. She looked at the clock and realized the tardy bell would ring any second. She assumed everyone else was dressed already and were warming up in the classroom.

Jasmine hurried to her locker to grab her clothes and change quickly. As she pulled her dance shoes on, the tardy bell rang and she heard the door to the locker room open.

"I'm almost dressed. I'll be out in a sec." she said, thinking the teacher had just walked in.

She glanced up to see who had entered then groaned inwardly as the czarina herself, Malika, strode over to her.

"What do you want?" Jasmine asked as she tied her shoes.

"I want a pathetic little girl to go away," Malika said, her voice dripping with venom.

Jasmine still wasn't used to such overt aggression and she stared at Malika with her mouth open.

"Aww. Are you too dumb to answer me? Seriously, when are you going to figure out that Yumi just pities you? You are a little wretched puppy that she is trying to rescue. Do her a favor and leave her alone," Malika ordered.

Stung by Malika's words, Jasmine had no reply. Malika smiled then turned sharply on her toe. She marched to the door and pulled it open.

"No," Jasmine whispered.

"Did you speak?" Malika asked over her shoulder.

"No," Jasmine said more forcefully.

"I did not think so," Malika turned to go through the door.

"I'm not staying away."

At that moment, Jasmine knew she told the truth. She would never go away until her father forced her to move or one of them died.

"Yes. You are," Malika said over her shoulder.

Jasmine stood up.

"Forget it," she yelled and threw her socks at Malika. "You can't scare me away."

Malika watched the socks bounce off the door beside her. Her head pivoted on her neck and turned back towards Jasmine followed by the rest of her body.

"Think carefully before you speak again. Something bad could happen to you," Malika threatened.

Jasmine stuck out her chin and did her best impression of Alex when she confronted Malika in the hallway.

"Bring it. You are not the Yumi police. It's a free country and she can be friends with whomever she wants. Until she tells me otherwise, I am her friend and nothing you do will change that," Jasmine said.

Malika walked back to Jasmine until her nose almost touched Jasmine's. Jasmine struggled with the urge to run or at least flinch or step back. Jasmine didn't want to admit that Malika's almost six foot frame made her feel much shorter than her five foot nine inches. Jasmine saw Malika's eyes searching for weakness and sizing her up. She narrowed her eyes and straightened her shoulders. She braced her body, unsure if Malika would swing. Malika pointed her finger in Jasmine's face and started to speak when the door to the locker room opened again.

"You are late," Ms. Rico said, her eyes on her attendance clip board. She glanced up, looked down at the paper then looked up again quickly.

"What's going on here?" Ms. Rico demanded.

Malika turned around and put on a charming smile.

"Just a small disagreement. I think we have it sorted out now," Malika feigned, turning around and putting both hands on her hips. "Top 40 is way cooler than alternative and don't you forget it missy."

Jasmine's chin dropped. Malika narrowed her eyes briefly, turned on her heel again and strolled out the door.

"Are you ok?" asked Ms. Rico.

"Sure. We just got too heated in our debate about music. We, uh, shouldn't be so passionate," Jasmine said, running with the cover story. She shut her locker and hurried out the door to the dance room.

During dance class, she pointedly ignored Malika. She made sure not to look her way or practice moves near her. She had a feeling that these "friends" of Yumi's were dangerous, more dangerous than normal peer pressure. She felt some distance would be prudent.

Jasmine practiced the routine the teacher showed the class and pondered the seriousness of the confrontation with Malika. Just being friends with Yumi didn't seem like that big of a deal. Why was Malika so vehement against her being around? She knew she was missing something, but what?

Malika seemed like the kind of girl who valued her reputation. Was she a threat to Malika's social standing? Was there a group dynamic of which she wasn't aware? Was Malika worried that she would upset her position? Those reasons seemed too petty for the overly aggressive reaction from Malika.

Jasmine knew territory in high school could be a big deal. Maybe it was a gang thing. Did she wear the wrong colors? If they were involved in a gang, were they messed up in drugs and guns? Maybe they were dealing at school and didn't want her to find out. Maybe they were all on the run from the law because they murdered someone. The last thought made her shiver. She didn't like the direction that train of thought was heading.

Whatever made the group so angry and rude, she was sure Yumi was innocent. She would save Yumi from these horrible people if it was the last thing she did.

When the period was over Jasmine changed and headed to her last class. She groaned as she neared her destination. As if Malika wasn't bad enough, she was required to sit less than three feet from Honorio. Even sitting next to the Poke-mon freak was a better option than Honorio with his brooding brown-black eyes and statuesque features. Jasmine would never, ever admit being attracted to him out loud but his good looks intimidated her.

Wait, she thought, the Poke-mon geek. She started walking faster as she thought of the possibility of trading seats with someone in the class. One of the naive girls in class must be dying to sit next to Honorio. Trading seats would make Family Development much more tolerable.

Jasmine rushed into the Family Development room. She spotted Honorio glaring at her but rushed over to the teacher sitting at his desk.

"Excuse me Mr. Hagen," she said, tapping the teacher on the shoulder to get his attention.

"Yes. Um . . ." Mr. Hagen said, searching for the right name.

"Jasmine," she supplied.

"Right. Sorry. I will learn your name, I promise," Mr. Hagen said.

"It's ok. Mr. Hagen, I was wondering if it was possible to trade seats with someone in class. I don't like where I'm sitting."

"Why? Are you too far from the chalkboard or something?"

"Well, no. That's fine. I just would like a different partner."

Mr. Hagen looked down at his seating chart. He smiled as he found her name and Honorio's next to it. He leaned back in his chair.

"Jasmine, he's a good guy even if he doesn't talk a lot. Why don't you want to work with him?"

"Well, it's just that . . . I really can't explain. I just can't be his partner. Can I trade with someone?"

Mr. Hagen sat up and leaned towards her.

"Jasmine, I know what's going on here."

"You do?" she asked, bewildered.

Jasmine wasn't that lucky but she was hopeful. Adults really didn't understand the plight of being a teenager but maybe this teacher was aware of Honorio's dark side. Maybe he knew what Honorio was involved in and would intervene on her behalf. She felt a swell of hope bubble inside her.

"Jasmine, as we get older, we learn that we are beautiful in our own ways. You are a fine looking young woman,"

Jasmine blinked. Her expression must have revealed her confusion because Mr. Hagen went on.

"I know you are intimidated that Honorio is a fine looking young man. It can be scary talking to guys like him."

"Mr. Hagen, that's not it," she tried to clarify but Mr. Hagen spoke over her with a dreamy expression.

"I had a lab partner one year in school she was the prettiest girl in the city. I learned over a dissected frog how to talk to her and it gave me confidence. I ended up marrying a gorgeous woman and I have an amazing life. You will learn the same thing if you try. Now get to your seat, I need to start class," Mr. Hagen said.

"But—" Jasmine protested.

Mr. Hagen shooed her with a hand gesture and stood up. As he walked to the front of the class she turned and slowly trod to her seat. When she sat, she tried to listen intently to Mr. Hagen's lecture and ignore the body next to her.

"Today's lesson is on genetics. Please take a packet and pass the rest back," Mr. Hagen stated.

Mr. Hagen handed small stacks to the students sitting in the front row and the papers slowly shuffled back to her.

"These packets contain a range of genetic options like hair color, eye color and nose shape for every child. You are going to work with your partners today and roll a die to determine what traits your child would have."

_Work with Honorio? To predict what our children would look like? Could this day get any worse?_

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He was sitting up straight, intently listening to the teacher. She knew that inside he was filled with disgust at the thought of having to work with her. She glanced at the teacher and he caught her eye. He winked at her as if he was doing her a favor. Then it dawned on her. He was trying to set her up with Honorio!

"Before we get started, let's review how a baby's features are more realistically determined on page 126 in your text books," Mr. Hagen said.

The class opened their books and they spent ten minutes reviewing dominant and recessive genes, how the reproductive cells split and other details. She caught as much of it as possible and willed the lecture to continue. If Mr. Hagen talked the whole period, she wouldn't have to deal with Honorio.

"That about sums it up. Here are the dice. Please work with your partner to determine what your baby looks like then draw a picture of your results," Mr. Hagen instructed.

A die was passed back to Jasmine. She picked it up and rolled it in her palm to look at all six sides. It wasn't overly fascinating in and of itself. She was wasting time and knew it. She dreaded talking to Honorio.

Honorio cleared his throat.

Jasmine ignored him and continued to look at the dice.

Honorio cleared his throat louder.

She rolled the die on the table.

"Look," Honorio said in a low voice. "Neither of us is pleased with this arrangement but I would like to get a passing grade so stop acting like a child," Honorio snapped.

She gasped and stared at him.

"Me? Acting like a child? Who has a group of friends afraid to let the new girl play in the sandbox? You grow up and we'll talk," Jasmine said.

"This is more complex than you realize. It is for your own good," Honorio warned.

"For my own good? You think sending a crazy woman to beat me up in the locker room is for my own good?"

He looked startled at the news but she continued.

"Buddy, you are messed up if you think you have Yumi's best interest at heart. Maybe if you stop dealing drugs things wouldn't be so dangerous," Jasmine ranted, making air quotes and rolled her eyes as she said the last word.

"Drugs? What are you talking about?" Honorio asked.

"What else would be so dangerous? Please, I wasn't born yesterday. You have to be popping steroids to be cut like that at our age. Hey, a bit of advice, they shrivel your family jewels. You might want to rethink the juice if you value your manhood," Jasmine said.

Honorio stared at her. He didn't have a handy retort.

Yes! She thought. Score one for team Jasmine!

Mr. Hagen walked by and she flashed a sweet smile at him. He gave her a thumbs up and big grin.

"Anyways, let's make this baby - I mean - do the assignment," Jasmine said. She blushed when she realized how bad it had sounded.

Honorio stared at her blankly.

She flipped open her packet and took over. It did not take her long to divine the first result.

"Red Hair," she called out.

He was studying her and she didn't know how to read him. His face revealed little about his thoughts. He could have been thinking of different methods to get rid of her or staring at something on her face. She turned to the side and brushed her face just in case something hung there.

"Are you going to write down the results? Our kid has red hair," she repeated.

He didn't answer right away.

"You don't know what's going on and you don't understand how imperative it is that you keep your distance. It is for your own safety," Honorio said.

"Look, James Bond, we're in high school. There is no life or death. All this drama is pathetic. Seriously, get a hobby. I hear World of Warcraft brings excitement."

"I am not going to say it again. Stay away from Yumi."

"I am not going to say it again. NO!"

The pencil Honorio had been holding shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces like a miniature bomb had exploded in his hand. Chunks of wood and graphite flew to all ends of the room. Several people looked up from their work to determine where the debris had originated.

Honorio looked mortified.

"I guess I'm stronger than I thought," he whispered in a shaky voice, unsure of himself.

"Is everything alright over here?" Mr. Hagen stood beside Jasmine.

"Yes sir," Honorio said as he sat up straight. "I just grabbed my pencil wrong. We will get right back to work."

"Sounds good. Try to grab the pencil correctly this time, okay?" Mr. Hagen said.

"Yes, sir." Honorio said.

Honorio sat still for a moment staring into space. Jasmine rolled the dice to him. He looked down at the dice then up at her.

"I'll write. You roll. Unless you'll break the die too . . ." Jasmine said.

He shook his head and picked up the white cube with black dots on each side carefully. They worked on the project with minimal conversation until the final bell rang.

Jasmine began to stand up when Honorio grabbed her arm and whispered:

"You have been warned."

She rolled her eyes and replied:

"Whatever."

She yanked her arm out of his grip and left the room as quickly as possible.

As she walked home, her legs were weary. She couldn't wait to get home and sleep. She finally arrived at her home, pushed open the door and dropped her backpack to the floor. She wanted nothing more than to take a nap. She started to walk upstairs dragging her pack when she heard her name.

"Jasmine?"

She rolled her eyes. Her dad finally decided to be home when she was. This was a peachy addition to her glamorous day.

"Yeah," Jasmine answered.

"Hey there," Dad said, walking from the kitchen and drying his hands on a dish towel.

"Hi. What's up?" Jasmine asked.

She dropped her backpack on the stair.

"Nothing. Don't eat too many snacks. I'm cooking my world famous hamburgers for dinner."

"K. I'll be in my room."

"I thought we could talk for a bit while I get the food ready."

Jasmine looked at him. He looked hopeful. She felt bad but she was too tired to play like a happy family.

"Dad, I have a lot of homework. I need to get started if I want to eat."

"Well, I guess I have to respect that. My brilliant daughter needs good grades to get into medical school."

Jasmine rolled her eyes. He still hadn't let go of the doctor bit. When she was five she would take care of her sick dolls and tell everyone she would be a "dawter" when she was big. According to Dad she was _totally cute_.

She continued trudging up the stairs. As soon as she walked in her room, she dropped in bed and slept. It was a deep, dreamless sleep.

**Chapter 21: Knock, Knock**

Jasmine woke up to her obnoxious alarm clock the next morning. Her dad must have set it the night before because she didn't remember setting it or falling asleep for that matter. She found a note from her dad on the nightstand.

I couldn't wake you up last night. If you're not feeling well, let me know and I'll call you in sick to school. –Love Dad

She thought about it but after a quick self-assessment, she realized she didn't feel ill. Besides, staying home from school might make Yumi's roommates think she was backing down. No chance she would let that happen.

First and second periods were excruciating. Finally, once again, she waited in Art class for Yumi to show up. That day she was more patient and didn't let her imagination run away with her. She doodled on some scratch paper as she waited for Yumi to show up.

She jumped in her seat when the tardy bell rang. She looked at the door and waited for Yumi's face. At 10:34, she realized that Yumi wasn't coming to class. The realization startled her. She prepared herself to argue and glare at Honorio and Malika. That she took for granted. The possibility that Yumi might not come to school never crossed her mind. She couldn't figure out why Yumi wouldn't be there . . . unless Honorio and everyone else made her stay home. Yumi could be tied up in the closet somewhere.

Jasmine decided then that at lunch she would go to Yumi's house and make sure she was ok. Unfortunately, she didn't know where Yumi lived. She knew she couldn't ask Honorio, Malika or either of the other two boys. She considered asking the office for the address but decided against it. She was pretty sure they couldn't give out that information. She asked the girl nearest to her if the school made a student directory but the girl shook her head side-to-side gesturing no. She spent the rest of art class trying to determine a way find Yumi's house without asking anyone.

After leaving Art class, she wandered to the office on the off chance that no one was there and she could search through the files. She imagined herself sneaking like a super ninja through the file room. She pictured herself locating the folder and taking a picture of the information with her super small spy camera. She spotted a couple of adults through the office the window and realized that was not an option –besides, she didn't own a spy camera.

She did spot a phone book on the counter so she walked into the office.

"May I use this?" she asked.

"Sure," said the man standing behind the desk.

Jasmine flipped through the pages trying to remember Yumi's last name. It dawned on her that she never asked for her last name. Her shoulders slumped and she turned away from the counter. She slumped back against it and looked out the windows dividing the office from the halls. Close to admitting defeat, she tortured herself with the knowledge that she lacked a way to find Yumi's house without asking someone.

Out of options, she noticed Honorio walking by. He glanced at her then quickly looked away. He turned the corner in front of the office and she watched him walk away from her. She knew she couldn't let him and his bully friends win. She had to think harder.

She glanced at the book and noticed it lying open to the F section. She looked at Honorio's back again then had a thought. She almost dismissed it then decided to look on a whim. She knew Honorio's last name was Fuentes. He was the type of guy to put a phone in his name. As she flipped pages, she realized the phone was probably set up under one of the kids' parent's name but she looked anyways.

She located Fuentes in the phone book. She ran her finger past Alejandro, Bob, Constantina, Eduardo, Felix, Gerry then she looked carefully at the names that started with H.

She found it. _Honorio Fuentes, Sr_. She blinked to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks. She couldn't be sure it was the same Honorio but she scribbled the address in her notebook and put the phonebook back.

Did she dare? Would she leave school in the middle of the day? She wasn't sure she was ready to earn the stigma of someone who skipped class. She considered going after school but she realized that Honorio and the others would be there. If she wanted to talk to Yumi without being hounded, she had to make a break for it. She picked up the phone book again and flipped to the street map section. It took her a while but she figured out where the address was. She groaned as she discovered it was too far away to walk. She put the phone book down on the counter again.

She considered her options. She could stay at school and finish her day. She could walk miles to the address in the phone book. She could call a cab to take her to the address. She could ask Honorio politely to take her home with them after school. She laughed to herself at the last thought. That would never be an option.

Jasmine looked in her purse. She had a ten and two ones. She considered how much it would probably cost to get there and back. She was sure it was more than twelve dollars. Everything in Omaha was expensive. She could go home and get her bank card. Then she could go to the gas station on the corner with the ATM and withdraw money to pay the cab fare.

The walk home wasn't long but it seemed to take forever. She even broke out into a jog a couple of times to move faster. She called the cab company from her home phone and arranged for a cab to pick her up at the gas station. She walked to the gas station and withdrew forty dollars. As she waited in front of the store pacing, her anxiety grew. She knew she shouldn't skip classes. She knew how angry Honorio, Malika and the others would be if they knew she was headed to their house. She also was nervous about carrying over fifty dollars in cash. She worried that someone would pull out a gun and rob her.

After what felt like an eternity, the cab arrived. The drive to the address she found in the phone book wasn't more than 10 minutes long. She asked the cabbie to wait to make sure she was at the right house. She walked up to a white door with a brass knocker, slightly trembling and gathered the courage to summon Yumi.

How dumb is this? She thought. Yumi is my friend. Why can't I be on her front porch like a normal friend? She took a deep breath and knocked.

Jasmine heard shuffling feet coming to the door. She heard the deadbolt unlatch and the door creaked open part way. She saw a wrinkly face staring up at her. The woman, tanned, small and hiding behind the chained door said:

"¿Buenas?"

"Uh, is Yumi there?" Jasmine asked.

"¿Que quieres?"

"Yumi." Jasmine repeated. "Does Yumi live here?"

"No te entiendo."

"Yumi... es una chica," Jasmine struggled, straining to remember her freshman Spanish classes and pointed behind the abuela.

"No la conozco."

"Jasmine," Jasmine pointed to herself.

"Hola Yasmín."

"I want," she began, placing her hand over her heart. Then she made a motion with her hand like she was making a puppet talk."To talk," she continued then pointed behind the old woman. "To Yumi."

"No hay no Yumi aquí. Tienes la dirección incorrecta," she informed futilely and started closing the door.

"Please ma'am I need to speak to Yumi," Jasmine said, holding out her hand to stop the door from closing.

The woman jerked the door open to the end of the chain, stuck her head in the door opening and said emphatically:

"¡No Yumi!" she yelled, annoyed then she slammed the door shut.

Jasmine stared at the door for a minute. She saw the curtains in the side window move and she glanced over in time to see the old woman snap them closed. She realized that her behavior was becoming rather creepy and that she had the wrong house. She had struck out. She turned around and had the cabbie drive her back to school.

"You okay, kid?" the cabbie asked.

"Yeah. Fine." she said as she leaned back in the seat and moped.

When she arrived back at school it was about halfway through Drama class. She sighed, walked in the stage door and mumbled a lame excuse to Mr. Conrad about lunch not sitting well. She assumed her pathetic appearance and depressed spirit showed enough that he believed her. It was too bad she couldn't get credit for acting that well done. He had her sit in the audience while the others performed a one-act play.

Even though she lamented her bad luck, part of her enjoyed watching the others on stage. The play was a comedy about a couple. Derrik and Alex were the couple. Jasmine figured they usually starred in all the productions. Mark was Derrik's best friend in the play. He was the true star in her opinion. He delivered his lines smoothly and flashed his amazing smile often. Watching him reinforced how much she wanted to find a way to stay in Omaha. Her heart sunk lower when she remembered she had no way to contact Yumi.

As the class bell rang, Mark jumped down off the stage and jogged over to her.

"So how are we doing?" he asked gesturing towards the stage.

"Ya'll are doin' just fine," Jasmine drawled.

"Ya'll?"

"Yup. I lived in the south for six months. You pick up a few things when surrounded by southerners,"

"How many places have you lived?"

Jasmine shied away from that sensitive territory. She hated how much she had moved and hadn't kept an actual count. To her it was a reminder of how many times she had been ripped from homes and forced to start over again and again.

"I've lived in many places. What about you?"

"Just here in good ole Nebraska."

"Don't you two have classes?" Mr. Conrad asked from the stage.

"We're going," Mark replied over his shoulder then turned back to Jasmine and asked her: "What class do you have next?"

"I'm headed to dance class."

"A ballerina, huh?"

"Not really. The class had space so the counselor stuck me there."

"My class is just past there. Let's go."

Today, only one person followed Jasmine to her class.

Oblivious to her shadow, Mark and Jasmine walked to class and chatted about the one act play. Jasmine felt comfortable chatting. Mark wasn't scary or intense or stuck on himself. He was sweet and she laughed at his jokes. She put her internet research on guys to good use and learned as much about him in the few minutes they had before class as possible. As they said a quick goodbye at the locker room, inwardly she lamented the end of her brief reprieve from the stress and uncertainty of trying to win over Yumi's group.

In Dance class, Malika smiled maliciously at her once then twirled away to the other side of the room. Her grace angered Jasmine. She wanted Malika to slip, to fall, to trip, to stumble or anything that wasn't perfectly perfect.

She didn't.

Family Development with Honorio was heavier with tension than Dance class with Malika. Jasmine tried hard to ignore Honorio the whole class. He was cool and calm the whole period. He sat, chiseled and unfeeling as an artist's sculpture. Even though the outside was appealing to the eye, a masterpiece even, the lack of humanity within made her sick.

At the end of the period she whispered as she stood up:

"You haven't won,"

Then she marched out the door.

The walk home was torturous. She had lost today's battle. She was a failed general with no aides. She was out of ideas on how to proceed with her rescue mission.

She trudged up to the house and saw two vehicles in the driveway. The one in front was her father's black Chrysler 300. The one in back was a blue sedan that she didn't recognize. She warily approached the front door.

She could hear laughing as she opened the door. She heard her dad's baritone voice and a female voice. She looked in the living room and saw her dad on the couch talking to a vaguely familiar woman.

"Uh. Hi," Jasmine said.

They looked up and noticed her. They both stood with huge smiles on their faces.

"Hey, hey, Jasmine! You remember Captain Trellin, right," said Dad.

The woman's face clicked in Jasmine's brain. She was the lady from the base who had given her the quick orientation.

"Hey," Jasmine said with a small wave.

"Hi Jasmine. It's nice to see you again. And please call me Emma off-base," Captain Trellin said.

Her dad was grinning like a maniac.

"So . . . what brings you two here . . . in the middle of the day?" Jasmine asked warily.

Her dad and Emma grinned at each other then her dad jumped up and strode over to Jasmine.

"Captain, er, Emma, helped me with something. Come with me," her dad said.

He ushered Jasmine to the door with Emma following behind. Jasmine glanced over her shoulder at Emma as much to ask _why are you here_ as _what's going on_? Emma beamed her huge, startling red smile.

Dad led Jasmine outside and over to the driveway. He grabbed her hand and pulled it to him palm up. Then he placed a set of keys in her palm.

Jasmine looked at him then looked at the blue car. She looked at the keys and thought, _No way_!

"Is it . . .?" Jasmine started.

"Yup!" Dad confirmed her assumption.

Jasmine looked at the keys again.

"There was a coworker of Emma's who was suddenly reassigned overseas and she needed to sell her car fast. Emma remembered that you were about driving age and asked if you needed a car," her dad explained.

Jasmine looked at Emma. Emma nodded. Grudgingly, Jasmine accepted that Emma was pretty cool to do that.

"Thank you Emma," she said, mystified.

"I was worried when your father said he wanted to surprise you. I thought you might want to have some say in the decision," Emma said.

"Well, in my defense, it was such a steal you'll get to keep half of your savings account which you can use for college instead. Also, the look on your face was worth it," her dad said.

"Thanks dad," she said with a smile and gave him a half-hug from the side.

She inspected the car and approved of its over all good condition. It was a sapphire blue four door sedan with light grey cloth upholstery. The paint still gleamed with no apparent nicks or scratches. Inside, she spotted one small, faint stain in the backseat that looked like someone had spilled a drink. The car's odometer read 43,431 miles and it even had a full tank of gas. Jasmine knew that she wouldn't have found a beauty like this in her price range on a used car lot.

After giving her time to look over the car thoroughly, her dad rubbed his hands together and asked:

"Now, who wants cake?"

Emma demurred:

"Oh, I really should get going. I don't want to intrude on a family event,"

"Nonsense! There's too much cake for just two people," her dad said.

"Cake?" Jasmine asked, a little slow to pick up on what they were talking about since her thoughts were elsewhere.

"Yes. Birthday cake. The move happened so fast that we haven't celebrated your birthday," Dad confirmed. "Please join us Emma," he continued, turning to the Captain.

"Well, I suppose one piece won't hurt," Emma said with her gorgeous smile.

They all walked back into the house but not before Jasmine glanced back at the car in the driveway a few more times. It was real. She really had a car. She had wheels. She had freedom. She had a way to figure out what was going on with Yumi. Her dad had handed her the solution to her problem. With a car she could follow Honorio and the others home and learn their address. Her rescue mission was back on!

Her dad brought out a round chocolate birthday cake with 16 candles in it. He lit them then he and Emma tortured Jasmine with an off-key revision of Happy Birthday. They all had a slice and it was almost nice. Jasmine marveled at her father's easy laugh and quick smiles. She hadn't seen him truly laugh in seven years. The only thing that would have made the evening perfect was if Jasmine's mom had been with them instead of Emma.

After about an hour Emma said:

"I really should be getting home now. Could I get a ride back to my car?"

Jasmine licked the last of the creamy icing off the back of her spoon. It took her a moment before she realized that Emma had spoken to her.

"Me?" Jasmine asked.

"Yes. Your dad said you have your learner's permit. We could all drive to the base and you can practice navigating Omaha's mean streets," Emma said.

Jasmine looked at her dad. He nodded.

"Sure! After we drop Emma off we can go to the DMV and get my real license!"

Dad looked startled.

"Well, I'm not so sure about that part," her dad replied.

Jasmine leaned towards her dad and clasped her hands together in a begging gesture.

"Please, Dad? I need to get my license as soon as possible," Jasmine begged.

"What's the rush? You've only been 16 a week," her dad responded.

"I really need to get my license as soon as possible." Jasmine thought fast for a plausible explanation. "I was thinking it would be a good idea for me to get a part-time job. College is two years away and I need to save up more than the two thousand dollars I have in order to pay for four years. I also recognize that a part-time job would be good for me to teach me responsibility. I know there are a lot of valuable life lessons that come from part-time work."

Dad held up his hands.

"Stop, stop. You had me at saving for college. Don't over do it," he lauded with a sigh. "Alright. We'll head to the DMV. I hope you've been studying!"

The drive to the base was nerve-wracking but exciting. After their goodbyes to Emma, Jasmine and her dad headed to the DMV. Jasmine didn't have time to refresh her knowledge and barely passed the written test. She had been one wrong answer shy of failing. The actual driving part of the test was stressful. Luckily she didn't hit anything and her parallel parking wasn't a complete failure. She drove home with her coveted license. Jasmine looked silly in the picture but she would take humiliation any day to have bestowed upon her the power to drive legally in the state of Nebraska.

She fell asleep that night with a huge grin on her face. Life was starting to look up.

**Chapter 22: Afloat**

Her dream that night differed drastically from her usual dreams. She floated in the air, surrounded by . . . nothing. She couldn't feel air or wind of any sort. The stillness of the air paired with the lack of noise calmed and unnerved her at the same time. Her surroundings were dark but she didn't feel wrapped in blackness. Jasmine contained her own source of light.

She heard wind chimes behind her. She turned her head and saw a blue pulsing light. She didn't move a muscle in her suspended body but still drew closer to the light when she thought the desire to inspect it more closely.

"Wow," she said.

The blue light flared. She heard Yumi's voice.

"Jasmine?"

"Yes," Jasmine called, surprised at first to hear Yumi's voice but since it was a dream, was it really that weird to have Yumi in it represented by a blue ball of pulsing light? "So . . . what's up?" she asked.

Even in her dreams Jasmine was a smooth talker.

Jasmine heard the tinkling of wind chimes as Yumi laughed.

"The sky, Jasmine."

"Huh?"

"The sky is up."

"Oh." Jasmine laughed with Yumi this time. "This has to be the best dream I have ever had."

"Well, it is certainly a new one for me."

"Yumi, I am so worried about you. I hope you're ok."

"I am fine, Jasmine. I still have time."

"Time for what?"

"Time before I need a new source."

"A new source for what?"

"For my body."

"Are you sick?"

"The current source is degrading and it is starting to poison me."

"Poison you? You're being poisoned?"

"It is normal. The sources break down and I have to find a new source."

"Oh, you mean your medicine isn't working anymore?"

"Something like that."

"When will you be back at school?"

"Soon. I just need to be gone a few days to make the current source last a little longer. My team is working on an alternative. They have a plan which they will execute. After that, I will be much better."

"I'm sorry you are sick."

"Me too. I miss art class."

"It sucks without you there."

More tinkling chimes issued from the blue light.

"It is much more pleasurable now that you are in class with me." The blue ball of light with Yumi's voice said.

"Cool."

"I have to ask, why do you refer to temperature when expressing assent? It fascinates me about your kind."

"Huh?"

"Cool has nothing to do with what we were discussing. We were not discussing weather. We were not talking about thermal movement, adjustment or variation yet you referred to a subjective assessment of temperature."

Jasmine's mind stumbled over that question. Yumi had a good point. What did the word cool have to do with something being good? Jasmine thought of several words that she used which didn't belong in the sentence. When she used them, she was just mimicking other kids. They were _cool_ to say so Jasmine said it.

"Well, I suppose that kids like us just choose a word and decide it means something different than the original meaning. It catches on as more and more people say it. Then it's just accepted as having more than one meaning. It's slang. It's part of growing up and being our own person. Making our mark on the world."

"Wow. You are definitely unique."

"Thanks?"

"Oh yes. It is a compliment. I have much to learn from you Jasmine Smith. I wish the rest of my team could recognize the valuable exchange of information that could result from regular interaction between us."

"We are going to interact regularly. I have a plan."

"A plan?"

"Yup. I'm rescuing you."

"I don't understand. Maybe I don't understand the true meaning of rescue. I'll research that word more."

"I am going to save you from Honorio, Malika, Joseph and Tyrone."

"Why would I need to be saved?"

"Because those guys are bad news."

"I don't understand."

"Look. Whatever they are into, you don't have to be a part of it."

"I am honor bound to complete my mission."

"It isn't necessary to stick with those guys. You can be free. I'll help you. When I've saved you, we can be roommates. I have a car now. You don't have to deal drugs or do whatever they are in to. I'll get away from my dad and we'll both be happy."

"Jasmine, what you are saying, you do not understand."

"It's ok Yumi. I have a plan."

"Jasmine, do not do anything irrational. You do not . . ."

BEEP . . . BEEP . . . BEEP . . .

Jasmine opened her eyes and slapped the alarm clock. She groaned, feeling like she hadn't slept. She thought about her weird dream. She knew she needed to act. Yumi just didn't understand how dangerous of a game her group was involved in. Drugs got people killed. Jasmine wanted to roll up in her blankets and fall back to sleep but she had a mission to accomplish. She had to go to school.

**Chapter 23: Secret Agent**

The morning passed slowly. Jasmine suspected that Yumi wouldn't be at school again and she was right. Art class was lonely without her but Jasmine passed the time pretending to have a conversation about the art project assigned that day. She pretended to tell Yumi all about the scene she chose out of a magazine to paint with water color and how her art looked nothing like the photo. Jasmine could almost hear Yumi's voice conversing back with her telling her it looked fine.

Lunchtime passed quickly. She grabbed a bite to eat then spied on Yumi's group. They were sitting at the same table where they ate everyday. They didn't do anything. They barely spoke in fact. They were boring to watch but she fidgeted, bursting with energy because of her undercover antics.

At the end of lunch, everyone headed to the school building except for Malika. Malika broke from the pack and headed towards the parking lot. Jasmine followed her at a distance. Malika walked quickly through all the parked cars and put her key in a black sedan. Jasmine noted the location of the car. It was about 4 rows and several cars away from where Jasmine had parked. It was close enough that she could follow them but far enough away that she wouldn't be obvious. Her plan was already on track!

Drama class was a breeze. Her adrenalin coursed through her veins so she practically bounced around on stage as the class acted out emotions. Mr. Conrad smiled at Jasmine several times as she let inhibition go. She was a freaking secret agent. Drama class was nothing compared to her Charlie's Angel life.

She flirted shamelessly with Mark. She enjoyed winking and smiling at him then watching his reactions. Luckily, he smiled back at her and went along with the flirting. The stage was hers. The guy she wanted was hers. Life was good.

In Dance, Malika seemed reserved. She kept glancing at Jasmine over her shoulder. Every time they made eye contact, Jasmine smiled.

In Family Development class, Honorio studiously ignored her. That was fine with Jasmine. She sat with a smug smile on her face. When the bell rang she sprang from her seat and ran to her locker. She gathered her books in record time then ran to her car and waited for the right moment.

Jasmine forgot about the after school gridlock. Everyone left school at the same time which created a traffic jam. She saw Alex, Mark and Derrik from Drama walk in front of her car. She ducked so they wouldn't see her and distract her from the mission. She had hawk eyes on the side door so when the group came out, she would be ready.

After five minutes, she saw them emerge so she started her car. They walked in a line to the car, split in half and walked to their respective doors. Joseph drove, Malika sat in the front passenger seat, Honorio and Tyrone sat in the back. The precision of their movements reminded her of troop formations she observed on base. The level of discipline helped Jasmine understand why the group's parents were comfortable enough to let these guys live together. Their parents must not suspect a thing.

Jasmine pulled out and crept their way as Joseph started the car. She didn't expect him to whip the car out of the parking space and zip through the parking lot. She struggled to keep up until she saw Honorio reach from the back seat and smack the back of Joseph's head. Joseph slowed down and Jasmine managed to follow with one car between them.

She didn't realize how nervous she felt about driving until she had to keep up with the black sedan without staying right behind it. She tried to stay in the same lane but keep a car-length between them to avoid detection. It was much harder in real life than it looked on television. Add to that the stress of crowded streets and aggressive drivers and she was more than intimidated.

Luckily for her, they didn't travel far. They pulled up to a small house 20 or so blocks away with only a few turns. She watched as the garage door opened and the car pulled therein. Then the garage door shut. She sat a few houses down and waited for something to happen.

Their house wasn't anything special. The outside was covered in slightly worn yellow siding. The plain wooden door didn't even have a knocker. Normal landscaping of a few bushes under the windows and neatly trimmed grass decorated the house. The neighboring houses were also in good repair. It was a quiet street in a quiet neighborhood.

Jasmine wasn't sure what she was expecting. She supposed she expected a run-down neighborhood, a half-disassembled car in the yard and men in muscle shirts lounging about. She assumed that drug dealers attracted that element so she was a little surprised at the lack of trashiness.

Before she forgot, she wrote down the address. It wouldn't do any good to come this far and not find the house again. After waiting for 15 more minutes of nothing happening in the house, she turned around in the street and drove home.

She trudged upstairs when she entered her empty house. Homework seemed so droll after her secret agent day but she did need to keep her grades up. College was a goal and failing classes wouldn't help her reach that.

When her dad got home at 6 PM, he cooked a small dinner for them. They chatted some but her heart wasn't in it. She went back to her room after washing the dishes and attempted to concentrate on homework. After reading the same page three times and still forgetting what she read, she gave up and prepared for bed. She pulled her comforter up around her chin and hoped for another dream like that from the previous night.

Unfortunately, it didn't come.

**Chapter 24: Entering**

At lunch the next day, Jasmine jumped in her car to begin phase two of Yumi's rescue. She drove to Yumi's house. She knew Yumi had to be there since she wasn't in Art class. Sick one day, ok. Sick two days? That was pushing it. This was the third day of Yumi being "sick." Something kept her from school and Jasmine would find out what.

She sat in the car in front of Yumi's house for a minute gathering her courage. She imagined Yumi locked in the basement, probably chained to the wall with dirt on her face. She was hungry and cold. Jasmine wasn't about to let her suffer anymore.

Jasmine threw her door open and marched up to the house. She knocked on the door and waited. After waiting several seconds it dawned on her that if Yumi was locked in the basement she wouldn't be able to come to the door. Jasmine tried the door handle and it turned. The door was unlocked. She found that odd.

Jasmine pushed the door open and looked inside. Stairs ascended to the left and one door stood closed in front of her about five feet away. The entryway had a dated feel. The woodwork was older. It didn't gleam and looked rather faded. The wallpaper wasn't peeling but its design looked old-fashioned. She stood, waiting for a few moments before taking one step in.

"Yumi?" she whispered.

She took another step inside the house. To her right she saw a living room area. It was sparsely furnished with a plush couch and a single armchair. They didn't match but they looked good together.

"Yumi?" Jasmine said a little louder.

She heard wind chimes like in her dream coming from upstairs. She looked right again to make sure no one was there, shut the front door then she headed upstairs.

Part of her was aware that what she was doing was technically illegal. Her nerves were on edge as she wandered towards the top of the stairs. Each squeak of the stair boards was accusation and condemnation. She was sure Malika would fly through the air any second to shove her out of the house.

Would they kill me to keep me quiet? That thought stopped Jasmine in her tracks. They would never call the police. Drug dealers usually hid a stash or paraphernalia lying around the house somewhere –at least they always did on COPS. Yumi's housemates wouldn't want law enforcement anywhere near the house.

Jasmine looked to the bottom of the stairs and the front door. She could leave and pretend she never stopped by. She could pretend to be a normal teenager and leave behind the danger. She could go home to her dad and live her boring, lonely life sequestered so she wouldn't miss anyone in the next move.

The memory of her loneliness turned her head back to the top of the stairs. She knew that she and Yumi were friends in a deeper, cosmic way. Her soul and Yumi's were meant to be best friends. She could not walk away from that. Best friends would never abandon one another in a time of need.

Jasmine stepped faster and arrived at the top floor of the house. To the right was a bedroom, in front of her was a bathroom, to the left was a hallway. She saw two more closed doors across from each other about six feet down the hallway. At the end of the hallway a door hung open revealing a sparse, clean room.

The tinkling came from down the hallway. Jasmine walked towards the sound and stopped between the two closed doors. The noise came from the door on the left. She put her ear to the door to listen for other noises. She didn't hear anyone talking or foot steps. She could only detect a small hum underneath the tinkling of the wind chimes.

She turned the doorknob and pushed the door open a crack. Through her limited viewpoint she spied a bed, neatly made, and a dresser on the right side of the room. She didn't see the source of the noise so she opened the door further. In the far, left-hand corner was a recessed built-in shelving area. A blue glow like a computer monitor issued from the wall around the corner in the shelving area from where she was standing. Somewhere over there was the noise's source.

She quietly walked to the area. As she drew closer she could see around the corner. There was a bench that also acted like a step at the bottom. Then there was a landing area. On the wall closest to the door, there were shelves.

Her arms felt tingly. She looked down and saw her hairs standing on end. As she reached the corner, her whole body felt tingly. She saw several strands of her hair float through the air past her face.

The whole unit must have been gorgeous at one time. Now it was covered in chipping white paint. It looked sad with the blue light tinting the worn paint.

Jasmine stood on the bench so she could see in the shelves. The light issued from the fourth shelf up. She expected a computer. She stood on her tip toes and peered inside.What she saw as shocked her... literally.

When her eyes rose above the level of the shelf so that she could see, she felt a static electricity shock on the tip of her nose. It was mild but she stumbled back in surprise.

"Ow!" she said aloud and rubbed her nose.

_Jasmine_!

Jasmine heard Yumi's voice. She jumped guiltily and looked back into the room. Yumi wasn't there. Jasmine knew she heard her though.

"Yumi?"

Oh no. What do I do?

"Yumi?" Jasmine asked again, trying to figure out where she was hiding.

She has to leave before the others get home. Think.

"Yumi? Uh. Is there video surveillance or something here? Can you see me?" Jasmine started waving her hands. She walked down off the corner nook and over to the closet door. She opened it and looked inside for Yumi.

What is she doing?

Jasmine turned in a circle trying to figure out where the cameras were hidden. She felt so stupid for not realizing a drug gang might record their premises to protect their goods. She spotted a blue, pulsing circle floating just past the edge of the second shelf.

Jasmine blinked. Twice. Three times.

The ball pulsed. Twice. Three times.

She walked towards the ball to get a better look. It disappeared into the shelves.

Oh what have I done?

Jasmine shook her head and turned around again.

"Yumi? This isn't funny anymore. Stop hiding." she said with trepidation.

She must go home before something bad happens.

"What bad thing will happen? I came because I was worried you were hurt."

Oh sweet Jasmine. She is so kind to me.

"Yeah, 'cause I'm your friend. Real friends are kind to one another. Not like this group you are living with."

It is almost like she can read my thoughts.

"What are you talking about Yumi? I can hear you talking."

There was silence.

"Yumi. Please stop hiding. It's kind of freaking me out with floating balls and hidden video cameras."

Hear me? Impossible.

"Yumi, I hear you. I just don't see you. Are you locked in the basement? I'm coming to save you." Jasmine started to the door.

No!

Jasmine stopped.

"Why? Look, my father's in the Air Force. He has connections. I'm sure we can keep you safe from anyone trying to harm you."

Jasmine heard tinkling. It was almost like Yumi's laughter.

Jasmine, you should not be able to hear me but if you can, know that I am safe. I am not chained in the basement.

"Then where are you?"

I am near.

As much as Jasmine wanted to find Yumi, she also wanted to get a better look at the blue ball. She hadn't heard of anything so high tech before. Maybe the ball was the camera. That must be how Yumi could see her.

Jasmine walked back over to the corner shelves and climbed to the landing. Instead of sticking her nose into the shelf like before, she stood on tip toes a couple of feet back. She saw most of the blue ball pulsing in the far corner.

_Jasmine, go home._

Yumi sounded scared.

"No. Not until I see that you are alright."

She dropped off her tip toes and sat down on the landing, dangling her feet above the bench. She picked at some peeling paint in the corner.

The others will be mad.

"Yumi, you don't have to stick with them. They aren't your only option."

You don't understand.

"So help me understand."

I cannot.

"Why?"

It . . . it is complicated.

"Seriously, what is so complicated? You guys are messed up in some bad stuff. I can get you out. This doesn't have to be your life."

Oh Jasmine. I wish I could explain it. It is much more complicated than that. I just want to go home.

"So call your parents. Ask them to take you home."

They would if they could. They are too far away and right now I cannot return.

"Yumi?"

Yes?

"Has anyone ever told you that you are very vague?"

Yumi laughed.

Jasmine, everyone has secrets. I must keep mine so that everyone remains safe.

Jasmine thought about that for a minute. She didn't like it but she didn't think she would get anything more out of Yumi. "Are you really ok?"

I am sick Jasmine. I can tell you that. We are working to fix it. I will be at school tomorrow but I will not look well.

"Promise?" Jasmine leaned her head against the wall.

Promise. Also, can we have a secret together?

"Sure."

Please do not mention your visit to Malika, Honorio, Joseph or Tyrone. They do not need to know you were here.

Jasmine laughed ruefully and shook her head.

"No problem there."

Please do not mention anything you saw while you were here to anyone.

Jasmine thought about her request for a moment. The only thing that was out of the ordinary was the high tech video cameras. She couldn't think of anyone that would want to know.

Jasmine shrugged her shoulders. "Sure."

I will see you tomorrow.

"K. See you in Art."

Jasmine left hesitantly. She worried the group would flee overnight. She worried that Yumi would disappear forever. Was Yumi really trying to protect her? Jasmine had no way to know for sure.

Jasmine looked at the clock when she settled in the car and started the ignition. It was after 1:00PM. She was amazed that so much time had passed. She felt like she had been in the house only minutes. She sighed and headed back to school.

That afternoon had been a rather big let down. Jasmine expected to be a hero. She was going to be the best friend ever! Operation Yumi Liberation wasn't a complete failure but she didn't feel like she had attained a victory either.

She walked in the building 20 minutes before the last period. She skipped the rest of Dance class because she didn't want to see Malika. She needed time to process what happened. She wandered the halls towards her Family Development class. She ducked in the girl's restroom when she saw a male adult headed towards her. She didn't recognize him but she didn't feel like getting the third degree either.

Jasmine waited out the change class bell in a stall. It wasn't glamorous. She was certain it wasn't sanitary but it was quiet.

She analyzed what she knew. One, Yumi was sick. Jasmine kept forgetting to ask her what kind of sickness she had. She prayed quickly that it wasn't cancer or something else really scary. Two, Yumi and her friends were into something dangerous. Yumi's friends got mad at her whenever she was around. Three . . . There was no three. Jasmine didn't have enough information and it frustrated her.

After the bell rang, Jasmine was no closer to figuring out what exactly was going on than before. She had to get more information. She just wasn't sure how. She walked into Family Development slightly depressed.

Jasmine wasn't watching where she was going and she ran into someone. The collision knocked her off her feet. She started blushing and mumbled an apology as she started picking up papers and books.

She grabbed a slip of paper that slid a few feet away and glanced at it. It was a flier for a concert. The title read, _International Youth String Symphony Returns to Omaha_. She glanced up to return it to whoever had run into her and met Honorio's eyes.

"Here," she said as she thrust the pamphlet towards him.

Her arm tingled where she had bumped into his chest. She couldn't help noticing that his chest was strong and chiseled. She rubbed her arm. She tried to rub off her thoughts of what his chest must look like under his shirt and any attraction that tickled the back of her psyche. He was bad news, she knew better and she had something budding with Mark. Mark was definitely more her type.

As she sat, she realized that Honorio didn't come off as the type of guy who would like classical music. It seemed totally out of character for him. The more she thought about it, the more suspicious she became. Who ever heard of a drug dealer listening to Beethoven?

After school Jasmine rushed home. She jumped on her computer and did an internet search for _International String Symphony Omaha, NE_. There were several results. The first link upon which she clicked was for the upcoming symphony. It took her to the box office of the Quest Center. She looked around that website and noted the tickets were $55.00 each. She whistled quietly. That was expensive in her book.

She returned to her search results and read the synopsis for each. There was a link to an archived newspaper article from 2 years ago for another concert in Omaha by the Youth String Symphony. She clicked on the link.

The article was a critic's opinion of the concert. She scrolled down, not really interested in the text. There were a few pictures of the concert. One of the pictures was a teenage Asian girl who looked a lot like Yumi. Actually, it looked exactly like Yumi. Jasmine sat back as her mind reeled. She studied the picture more. She double-clicked on the picture to enlarge it.

It was Yumi. There was no doubt. Why was she in the picture, in this article?

Jasmine clicked to the article again and read more closely. She discovered that the students in the orchestra were chosen from all across the world. They were the best of the best and traveled the world playing their instruments.

Jasmine looked at all of the pictures more closely. She searched for Yumi's face but was shocked to see Joseph in one picture. She studied all of the faces and discovered Tyrone, Malika and Honorio as well.

How?

What?

Why?

Huh?

The pieces started to fall in place. They were kidnap victims. Or, they were runaways. Either way, they were involved with a high profile organization and couldn't attract attention to themselves.

If they were kidnap victims, why weren't there guards at their house? Wouldn't they just go home? Maybe the kidnappers threatened their families. That would explain why Yumi said her parents wanted to come but couldn't. Maybe their parents were in danger! They needed help!

On the other hand, if they were runaways they didn't need help. Maybe they all had demanding, abusive families and could only rely on each other. Maybe they didn't want to be found and that is why they demanded secrecy and didn't trust anyone. If that was so, why would Honorio have a flier for the concert?

Jasmine knew she had to find out why. She flipped back to the website with the concert information and noted the concert was the next day at 8:00PM.

Jasmine looked at her closet. She had a black dress that she wore to the funeral of a great-aunt a few months back that should still fit. She needed to dig out her heels because she was going to a concert.

**Chapter 25: Ventriloquist**

The next day Yumi was in Art Class as she promised. Jasmine inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. She had worried that Yumi would break her promise.

"Hey there Yumi. How are ya?" Jasmine asked in a soft voice adults used when talking to people in the hospital.

"I am feeling acceptable today," Yumi said, cocking her head and winking at Jasmine.

Jasmine laughed.

"You're always acceptable."

Yumi smiled.

"I am well enough."

Jasmine studied her face. She looked stressed. She also looked a little older. Jasmine thought she detected wrinkles around her eyes that hadn't been there before.

They both listened as the teacher explained the next assignment of drawing a sketch of the person beside whom they were sitting. Today one person would draw and the other would pose. They would switch roles tomorrow. Yumi and Jasmine smiled at each other.

"Jasmine, please pose for me," Yumi requested.

Jasmine stuck her fingers in her mouth and pulled the sides out, stuck out her tongue and crossed her eyes. Yumi's eyes widened and she leaned away. Jasmine laughed. She turned her chair towards Yumi and gave her a sweet, docile smile.

"Much better." Yumi picked up her pencil and started a basic outline of her face.

_Green-flecked eyes?_ Jasmine heard Yumi say.

"Yup. They are hereditary."

"What are hereditary?"

"My eyes. You noticed the green flecks in them."

Yumi stopped writing. She looked at Jasmine intently.

You can hear me?

"Yes." Jasmine said but something was bothering her.

Say hulla-baloo.

"Hulla . . ." Jasmine started then realized what bothered her. Yumi's mouth wasn't moving. "Wait . . . is this some sort of trick?" Jasmine leaned forward. "Are you a ventriloquist?"

"I . . . I do not know that word." Yumi confessed.

"It's someone who talks without moving their mouth. They usually have puppets and make it seem like the puppet is talking."

Jasmine held her hand up and mimicked a puppet.

"Why would someone want make a puppet talk?"

"It's for entertainment. I know, it sounds dumb but sometimes it's really funny."

These people are so strange.

"We're strange? Americans aren't that different from Chinese."

She gave Jasmine a strange look.

"Oh, are you Korean or Japanese or something? Sorry. I never asked you where you are from."

"Oh, Chinese. Uh, from China."

"Do you miss it?"

I miss home.

"Thirty minutes left, class. Keep working on those sketches," Ms. Arambula said.

Yumi started sketching again. Jasmine twitched out every time she heard Yumi comment about what she was drawing without moving her lips but Jasmine didn't want to distract her. Her drawing was amazing. She also wanted to come up with just the right way to broach the subject of her music and situation. She had to figure out if she was kidnapped or a runaway. Either way, she would find a way to help her.

At the ten minute warning that class was almost over, Jasmine leaned over to see how much Yumi had drawn. She was working on the intricate shading of each strand of hair. The drawing was life-like. Jasmine could have been looking in a mirror. So much so Yumi had even included the small zit on Jasmine's forehead in the drawing. Jasmine didn't like the blemish but including her imperfections made the drawing flawless.

Jasmine smiled at Yumi.

Yumi smiled back and shrugged.

"I do not know how I draw so well." Yumi said.

"Uh, cause you're talented!" Jasmine replied.

"I am really not. I am rather ordinary."

Jasmine laughed.

"You play the violin, you're a ventriloquist and you draw like a master. How is that ordinary?"

"I do not play the violin." Yumi said, eyes wide.

Jasmine gave her a knowing look.

"Uh huh."

"Jasmine, what makes you think I play the violin?" Yumi asked carefully.

The moment was here. Jasmine pulled out a folded page with the close up of Yumi during the concert printed on it. She handed it to Yumi and watched her unfold it. Yumi looked away quickly and folded the picture again.

Jasmine put her hand over Yumi's and the paper.

"It's ok. Your secret is safe with me." Jasmine assured her.

"Jasmine. I cannot explain this picture but it is not me."

"Yumi. I'm not stupid." Jasmine lowered her voice to a whisper. "I just can't decide if you were kidnapped or ran away."

She knows too much.

"Yumi, the problem is I don't know enough."

The bell rang dismissing them from class. Yumi stood quickly and grabbed her backpack. She left without saying goodbye.

**Chapter 26: Shocking Concert**

Jasmine showed up at the box office two hours before the concert began and purchased a ticket. She jumped back in her car and drove to Yumi's house. She waited three doors down the other side of the street where she had a clear view of their house as she waited.

She glanced in the mirror and checked her make-up. She threw it on in such a hurry she worried that she had put too much on. After dabbing and blending a little bit, she decided she looked fine. She moved the mirror around to check her dress and hair. She threw her hair up into a French twist. A few strands of hair had already fallen but they framed her face nicely. The dress fit tighter than at the funeral but it accentuated her curves nicely.

Jasmine tried to get comfortable in her fancy clothes and settled into the seat. She kicked off her dress shoes not knowing how long she would be waiting.

After about an hour she wondered if she had wasted 55 dollars. There was no movement or lights in the house or garage. The thought occurred to her that they might have gone to the concert hall earlier and were already doing whatever they had planned. She forced herself to wait longer. She could still make the concert.

After another 30 minutes, she saw the garage door open. The black sedan pulled out. She scooted down in her seat as she watched them drive past. She only saw 4 heads from her vantage point. She started her car and followed them to the concert hall.

They parked a couple of blocks away from the Quest center. Jasmine found a space half a block past them and hopped out of her car.

Jasmine saw Honorio, Tyrone, Malika and Joseph walking ahead of her. From behind they appeared immaculately dressed. She envied Malika's graceful, confident strides in her high heels. Jasmine tended to stumble in low heels. She would have sprained her ankle in stilettos like Malika's.

Jasmine sped up slightly to lessen the gap between them. She didn't want to lose them in the crowd. They passed over their tickets and a few moments later Jasmine passed over hers.

She spotted the foursome walking down a hall. They strolled casually. Jasmine held a program in front of her face so they wouldn't see her. She hoped it would be disguise enough.

She followed at a distance as they wandered around the building. As they drew near the backstage area, they grew more silent and reserved. By this time she heard the musicians on stage tuning and warming up for the performance. There was an usher by a closed door. They nodded at him as they walked in.

Jasmine straightened herself up and tried to look confident. She nodded at the usher as she walked past. He looked at her briefly then looked down the hall. She assumed he was there to make sure there were no trouble makers, not to check identification.

Jasmine entered and saw the others walking down the hall. They opened a door and walked in. She walked to the door and read the sign on the door. It read _Custodian_. Jasmine couldn't understand why they would all walk into the janitor's closet. She slowly opened the door and Honorio and Tyrone stood in the small room. Honorio looked at her with shock and fear. Tyrone looked faint. Well, see-through was a better word. His body just faded out until there was only a ball of blue, pulsing light floating where he had been standing.

Jasmine gasped and pointed to the ball of light and struggled to find her voice which disappeared with Tyrone.

Honorio grabbed her arm and yanked her into the room.

"Ow," Jasmine protested, her voice returning.

He shoved his hand against her mouth.

"What are you doing here?" he whispered in her ear.

"Frg moo ." Jasmine uttered as best as she could with his hand covering her mouth.

"You cannot be here." he said, putting his finger in her face. "Go. Home."

Jasmine pushed his hand off her tingling mouth and stepped back.

"Not until you explain that," she insisted, pointing to where Tyrone had been standing. The blue ball was gone so she looked around. There was a small bag on the floor emitting a blue glow. She pointed at the bag.

Honorio stomped over to the bag and zipped it shut before facing her again. "Jasmine, you are interfering with a top secret mission. Leave now."

"Bologna. Tyrone just turned into a freaking ball of blue light. I'm not stupid or blind. This is more than something top secret and since when does the CIA hire teenagers?" she asked, folding her arms.

"You do not know what you saw. It was your imagination."

"Can it bucko. You are here for a reason. I don't care what the reason is. I'm here to help you so let's get on with it."

"I cannot proceed while you might be in danger."

"Danger? At a concert? Are you afraid that I might get a callous from playing an instrument? Maybe a paper cut from some sheet music?"

The warming up and tuning stopped. It became quiet.

"You are delaying me and causing us to be behind schedule."

"Well let's go then."

A blue ball zoomed out of the bag and stopped in front of Jasmine's nose. It flared on and off and swerved in front of her. She felt the hair all over her body raise. Jasmine reached out to touch it and received a shock just like she received the day before at Yumi's house.

"Malika, stop. Return to your position immediately." snapped Honorio.

The ball stopped moving.

"I don't care. I issued an order. Comply now!"

The ball zoomed into the bag.

"Come on" Honorio said, grabbing her arm and dragged Jasmine to the door.

"Ya'll aren't human."

There. She had said it out loud.

Honorio ignored her.

"Why aren't you human?" Jasmine asked stupidly.

Honorio glanced at her then opened the door and looked around. He then jerked her out into the hallway and they marched away from the door.

Jasmine?

Jasmine could hear Yumi. It sounded like she was in a tunnel or something.

"What?" Jasmine said.

"What do you mean what?" hissed Honorio.

Jasmine, I need you to concentrate very carefully. Reply to me only in your head.

_Okay. This is weirder and weirder every second. Can you hear me?_ Jasmine asked in her head as Honorio pulled her down the hallway.

Yes.

Good. Now tell me what the heck is going on here. Why are Tyrone and Malika blue balls like I saw at your house? Why is Honorio acting all James Bond and freaking out like I can get hurt at a concert? Is there a bomb here or something? Is that why it's dangerous?

_Stop_! Jasmine heard a sigh in her head _. I suppose I must trust you_.

Finally!

The short story is the team is on a mission to help me become well again. Your presence is endangering the mission. You must leave.

Honorio jerked Jasmine around a corner. She almost lost her footing as his tug was more powerful than she expected. His attitude and the rough way he treated her reinforced her conviction to stay.

Not a chance.

This is a matter of safety. Please, just go home.

Yumi, you don't get it yet. I am your friend. I will do whatever I can to help you and right now that means I am helping.

You are not trained to assist.

We're at a concert. I can help if someone will just tell me what to do.

After a moment Yumi replied:

You must do exactly what Honorio says.

Jasmine glanced at Honorio. His eyebrows were scrunched together, his forehead full of wrinkles and his mouth was a straight, tight line. She was pretty sure she would listen to him even without Yumi asking her to.

No problem. I just want to help.

Good. Now, I still don't think it's a good idea for anyone else to know that we can communicate without using our mouths. Try to behave as though you cannot hear me. I will tell Honorio to tell you that I would want you to listen to him. Please make him think you are convinced by his explanation.

K . . . Hey Yumi?

Yes?

How are we able to hear each other without microphones or anything?

Well, I haven't figured that out yet. Please be patient and focus on doing exactly what Honorio says.

K.

Jasmine watched Honorio's face as she waited for her cue. He slowed down a little. He glanced at her a couple of times. He stopped and turned her to face him.

"Jasmine. You are Yumi's friend, right?" he asked.

"Yeees." Jasmine responded slowly.

"We are trying to help her feel better. You want her to feel better, don't you?"

Jasmine fought the impulse to roll her eyes. He was going to patronize her. She willed this to be over with. She nodded her head, not able to trust her voice.

"To do that, I need you to do everything I say, when I say it and not question me. This is the best thing you can do to help Yumi."

Jasmine did her best faithful soldier impression and saluted him. "Yes sir," she barked.

He shot her a perplexed expression.

"Follow me. Do not wander. Do not touch anything."

He turned around and started down the hall. Jasmine watched him then asked:

"Where are we going?"

He whirled around and whispered.

"Do not question me."

"Uhh. Yeah. Sorry. Lead the way," Jasmine conceded, gesturing for him to go first. He grunted and led the way.

How was that?

Yumi's reply came a minute later.

He is not convinced. He is very worried.

Everything will be fine. I'm all over this.

What?

I have things under control. Nothing will go wrong.

Jasmine followed Honorio down the hall to another door. She saw Dressing Room written there. He opened the door a crack, peered in then opened the door wider and strode in. She followed behind.

He dropped the small bag on the floor and opened it. The balls of blue light flew out. She saw Honorio dig in the small bag and pull something out. He put something on each ball of light. They started changing. The blue glow lengthened and formed into human shapes. Slowly, Malika, Tyrone and Joseph's forms appeared.

Cool

What?

Malika, Tyrone and Joseph just appeared where there were three ball of light before.

I suppose it would be a unique experience for you.

_How can they do that?_ Jasmine stared as the forms slowly solidified.

It's our unique structure. We are able to assume other shapes.

But how?

I am not the knowledge source. I cannot give you an accurate explanation.

Jasmine's brain clicked as another piece of the puzzle made sense.

You were the blue ball of light at your house.

Jasmine, you need to stop asking questions.

That wasn't a question.

Please, the less you know, the more protected you are.

But that was you.

Yes. I was at the house.

Malika, Tyrone and Joseph looked solid by then. Malika flexed her hand, glared with pure malice then ran towards Jasmine. Malika knocked her to the floor and bent Jasmine's arms behind her back.

As Jasmine cried out in agony from her wrenched shoulder sockets, Malika leaned down by Jasmine's ear.

"What do you think you are doing? How dare you intrude on us and put us at risk?" Malika spat in her face.

Jasmine yelped louder as Malika emphasized her anger by wrenching one of Jasmine's shoulders further towards her head.

"Malika, stand down," Honorio demanded.

Malika loosened her grip slightly but not enough for Jasmine to breathe easily. Jasmine panted and tried not to whimper from the pain.

"Sir, she is a hostile and must be neutralized," Malika said.

"Stand down. You are making noise." Honorio hissed.

Honorio's voice assumed the same tone her father's took when he issued orders.

Malika slowly released Jasmine's arms and stepped back. Jasmine rolled onto her back, reeling from the attack.

"Your misguided fascination with this species is clouding your judgment, sir." Malika said.

Jasmine watched from the floor as Honorio strode up to Malika and stood inches from her face.

"What is the main directive?" Honorio asked.

Malika stood at attention and stared at the wall in front of her. "Enhance if you must but do not destroy. Minimal interference."

"What is our mission?"

"Obtain fresh sources for the Communicator."

"We accomplish our mission first then we will deal with this complication."

He nodded to Jasmine as he said complication.

Hey! He just called me a complication.

Jasmine, look at it from his position. He is responsible for the safety of everyone. We have worked together for sometime. You are untested. You are also untrained.

Jasmine stuck out her chin. She was determined to be as little trouble as possible. Unfortunately, her arms didn't work yet so she couldn't help. She rubbed her shoulders trying to massage the pain away.

Honorio barked to the group, "Move. You know your task."

Jasmine watched the group from the floor where Malika tackled her. They opened each bag and rifled through them. Once done with each bag, they carefully left the bags exactly as they found them. Joseph moved with lighting speed. Every once in a while they removed something from the musician's bags and put it in their bag. Jasmine watched carefully then saw what they were taking.

Hairbrushes? You can buy those at the store. They are really cheap. You don't need to steal them.

Jasmine, I really can't tell you more.

Jasmine heard loud applause coming from past the door. She didn't think they had been in the room very long but recent events gave her a good excuse for losing track of time. Jasmine wondered when intermission would begin.

Honorio noticed the clapping as well.

"We're out of time. We need to go," Tyrone said with panic in his voice.

Joseph grabbed one more bag and searched through it.

"Move!" Honorio ordered.

Malika, Tyrone and Joseph ran to Honorio and each started to fade. In less than a minute they were blue lights nestled in the bag. Honorio grabbed the bag then Jasmine's arm and pulled her out the door. A few feet down the hallway they heard several voices coming towards them around the corner. Honorio looked around but there were no doors nearby.

He pushed Jasmine against the wall and put his hands on either side of her head on the wall. With his right hand, he reached out and stroked her cheek. The stroke of his fingers left a trail of fire and lightning down her skin. Jasmine tensed her body, unsure what to do as his touch electrified her. Her skin broke out in goose bumps and she felt her hands shake.

He leaned down and gently touched his lips to hers. The sensation was amazing. Her whole body tingled. Her lips quivered. Her eyes wide, she stared at his face up close and personal. So near, she could intimately see the details of his face. He was flawless.

Time shifted for her. Her body was entranced with the moment and sensation of the kiss. Her mind was desperately trying to figure out what was happening. She knew Honorio detested her and wanted nothing to do with her. He had made that very clear. She couldn't grasp why he was sharing this intimate moment with her in the middle of a mission.

She also struggled with feeling guilty. She and Mark weren't an item but she dreamed that they would become something more than just friends. She didn't know if it was possible to cheat on someone if you weren't dating. No matter what the moralists would say, deep inside, it felt like betrayal to Jasmine.

Jasmine squeaked as internally she wrestled between elation and remorse. Honorio opened his eyes and looked at her face. He appeared confused at the expression he saw there. He narrowed his eyes and whispered:

"Do exactly as I am doing."

Jasmine blinked and watched him move slowly towards her again. She was on a mission she reminded herself. This was to save Yumi. She would hold still and play a part. She imagined that Honorio was really Mark. They were acting out a romantic scene in a play where the hero and the heroine finally admit their love for each other.

Is everything alright, Jasmine?

Jasmine was wrenched out of the scene in her head.

_Fine Yumi._ She tried to pull herself back into the role she had created for herself.

Honorio is concerned you are going to blow your cover.

Jasmine jerked back and glared at Honorio. _I'm just fine. Tell him to relax._

He was such an egotistical moron! Jasmine decided that if they were going to kiss as their cover, they were going to have an amazing kiss. She grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket and jerked him close to her. She could smell a slight hint of mesmerizing cologne on his jacket. She stood on her tip toes and slowly leaned into him. She forced herself to think of Mark and told herself this was practice for when he and she would have a real kiss. Not a pretend kiss with someone who didn't even like her.

Their lips touched as the voices rounded the corner. The tingle returned to her lips, her ears rang and the goose bumps covered her arms and legs. She heard a few cat calls as the people saw them.

"Hey, what are you two doing back here?" A man walked over towards them and Honorio backed away from Jasmine.

"Sorry sir. We were just trying to find a place to get to know each other better," Honorio said.

Jasmine looked at Honorio. He had on a cocky expression and looked totally relaxed.

"Find it somewhere else," The guy demanded.

"Whatever," Honorio said.

Honorio put his arm around Jasmine's shoulders and escorted her away from the emerging musicians. She allowed him to guide her away amidst giggles and stares.

Her head felt as though she sat through two consecutive spinning rides at an amusement part. She had her first kiss from someone that wasn't family. She had dreamed of the perfect first kiss where electricity passed between herself and a man. She had dreamed that the man who kissed her would be handsome.

The kiss was everything she wanted except that in her dreams, the kiss hadn't been fake. In her dreams the kiss meant something more than a ruse to herself and the man with whom she shared the kiss.

She was torn between feeling cheated and feeling elated. It really was an amazing kiss. Maybe she was what you would call a natural at the whole kissing thing. It gave her confidence that if she and Mark ever dated, their first kiss wouldn't be a disaster.

The thought of Mark brought a new round of guilt. Would he be mad if he knew she kissed Honorio? Would it bug him at all if he had come around the corner and seen her in Honorio's arms? She couldn't shake the feeling that even though there was nothing behind the kiss, it still wasn't right.

**Chapter 27: Escape**

Honorio's tense grip around her shoulder guided her as she struggled with her thoughts. They headed to the front doors through the lobby. About halfway through the lobby, she saw her father.

Jasmine stopped in her tracks. She had no clue why her father was there. He was dressed in his black suit with a dark blue, silk tie. He stood with his hands in his pockets facing down the hall they walked in. He spotted her, waved and walked over. Jasmine felt Honorio's already tight grip squeeze tighter.

"Who is he?" Honorio asked.

"That's my dad." Jasmine hissed through clenched teeth.

Honorio's grip tensed more.

"What does he know?"

"Nothing." Jasmine squirmed in his grasp, shoving an elbow at him to get him to relax his hold but she hit his hip bone, shocking her funny bone. She plastered a smile on her face as her dad drew nearer.

"Why is he here?"

"I have no clue. Loosen up. You're going to leave a bruise."

She elbowed him again and hit soft flesh.

Honorio dropped his arm from her shoulders as her father strode up. Her father's eyes twinkled but he kept a straight face.

"Jasmine. How are you?" her dad asked.

He pulled her into a hug.

"Uh, fine. What are you doing here?" Jasmine asked.

She pulled away from the hug awkwardly.

"I'm enjoying a concert," her dad said.

"You don't go to concerts," Jasmine stated.

"Maybe not but when I saw the information for this one on your computer screen, I thought it might be a nice event," her dad responded.

Jasmine panicked, worried that her father was snooping through her stuff. Not that she had anything for him to find, but it was the principle of the thing.

"Why were you in my room?" she accused.

Her dad held his hands up.

"I was just checking on you when I got home from work last night," her dad said. "The concert page was on your screen. Anyways, I thought it could be something we could do together but you left really early. I see that I am the third wheel though."

Jasmine's dad looked at Honorio then back at her.

"Jasmine, are you going to introduce us?" her dad asked.

"Uh . . . Dad, this is Honorio. Honorio, this is my dad, Colonel John Smith," she said.

Honorio looked at her then her dad. He stood straighter. "Pleasure to meet you sir," Honorio greeted, extending his hand.

"Likewise Honorio." Her dad stated, looking directly into Honorio's eyes and shaking his hand firmly.

When they stepped back from the handshake her dad continued:

"So, am I interrupting something?"

"Not at all, nothing going on here." Jasmine stammered, not witty enough to give a smooth response.

"Sir, I apologize for our meeting this way. I should have approached you first and asked permission to date your daughter. I hope that you will not hold this trespass against me and will allow me to continue to see Jasmine,"

Her father folded his arms and sized up Honorio. Jasmine stared at Honorio, mouth agape.

_Did Honorio hit his head?_ She asked Yumi.

He did not report any injuries. Is there something wrong?

Uh . . . no. Well maybe. He just asked permission to date me from my father.

Interesting.

A voice pierced the scene from behind "There you are!" Captain Trellin walked up to them.

Col. Smith turned around as Honorio and Jasmine looked around him to see who was joining them. Emma linked her arm in John's and smiled.

"I see you finally found her," Captain Trellin cooed.

"I certainly did. And a surprise on her arm," Jasmine's dad said, indicating Honorio.

She reached out a manicured hand to Honorio.

"I'm Captain Emma Trellin," Emma said.

They shook hands.

"Honorio. It's a pleasure to meet you." She cooed.

Jasmine looked at Honorio when the handshake continued longer than Jasmine thought necessary. He wasn't drooling like Jasmine expected. Instead, he looked thoughtful.

Emma turned back to Jasmine. "When your father couldn't find you, he asked me if I wanted to use his spare ticket. Wasn't that nice of him?" She smiled sweetly.

The way she was rubbing his arm made Jasmine ill. The way he smiled at her was gross. She couldn't handle seeing dad with another woman. She had had enough freaky sights for one day.

"Hey dad, I'm headed home. I don't feel well," Jasmine scrunched her eyes shut and touched her forehead like she had a headache.

"Oh, do you need me to take you?" Her father stepped forward and touched her shoulder. His acting like a concerned father bothered Jasmine. She felt like he featured her in a dog and pony show in front of Emma.

Honorio saved her when he stepped forward. "It's alright sir, I will drive her home." He put his arm around Jasmine in a protective fashion.

Jasmine looked at her dad. Her dad eyed Honorio suspiciously.

"I will say goodbye at the door, sir," Honorio said.

"That is acceptable. I will be home in a couple of hours. I'll check on you then," her father said.

Jasmine lightly waved goodbye to her dad and Emma then grabbed Honorio's hand. She practically dragged him out the door. She let go of his hand after they were around the corner and stormed towards her car.

She reached the first corner but then something horrific welled up within her. It was a scream that had started building since she saw Tyrone turn into a blue ball of light and had been steadily gaining power as she watched her father and that dreadful captain getting cuddly. The raw, volcanic vocal power suddenly erupted from the depths of her lungs like a terrible howling storm.

It was primal and deep. It was anguish and anger at the world, heaven and beyond. Jasmine's ungodly scream protested her mother's death, her father's betrayal of her, her best friend being an alien and her first kiss being wasted on a man who didn't love her and who wasn't even from the same planet.

After she ran out of breath so profoundly she could almost feel her lungs beginning to bleed she stood at the corner, hands squeezed into fists, panting. She was at the end of her rope. She had heard of mental breakdowns and she was definitely cracking. Her pants turned into sobs. People stared at her as they walked by, giving her a wide berth like they would a crazy street person.

Then it started to hail. Hail. Not just rain like cheesy movies. The sky spit nickel sized pieces of rock-hard frozen water on her head. Everyone else ran for cover. She just sobbed.

Nothing would ever be normal again.

**Chapter 28: Alien Invasion**

Jasmine felt Honorio put an arm around her shoulder and guide her to his car. He put her in the front seat, put the bag in the back seat and unzipped it. She noticed the blue glow from the corner of her eye as she hunched in the front seat. Jasmine was so overwhelmed her sobs had stopped and she couldn't cry, couldn't speak and couldn't think.

Honorio drove to his house. She looked at the alien house; the house full of aliens, the house in which she had so desperately wanted to live. The place she wanted to give her security and safety. The walls of stability she desired as her surroundings. The house looked much less inviting by that time. The structure was rather menacing when one looked closely. What had she seen in it before?

They pulled into the garage. The door was a gaping mouth that swallowed her and the others whole. It didn't dawn on her to panic. She knew she was trapped but the trauma of the night numbed her.

Honorio got out and came around to her side of the car. He opened her door for her. She laughed once; more like a bark than a human laugh. She found it amusing that Honorio would open the door for her. It was what she would have expected a human to do on a date.

"Do you need assistance?" he asked.

Jasmine raised a hand to stop his talking and refused to look at his face. She exited the car and glanced in the back seat. She saw Malika, Tyrone and Joey almost solid, their forms still slightly translucent. Jasmine snorted a half laugh, turned and trod into the house.

Yumi sat in the front room waiting patiently in the middle of the couch. She patted the cushion next to her inviting Jasmine to sit. Jasmine sat slowly, as far from Yumi as she could while staying on the couch. Half of Jasmine wanted to sit right next to Yumi and hold her hand or lie down on the couch in a ball with her head in Yumi's lap. The other half of Jasmine remembered that she was an alien like the others. No matter what kind of friendship Jasmine thought they had, Yumi was still from a different planet and pretending to be human. How much of their friendship was a lie?

The adrenaline that had carried Jasmine through the night waned and she wanted to sleep. Jasmine wondered what they wanted. Were they spying on mankind to discover weaknesses? Were there thousands of cloaked ships floating around Earth's atmosphere waiting for the go signal? Maybe they were mad scientists and were harvesting humans for experimentation. Were they possibly fugitives from their home planet?

The rest of the group walked into the living room. Jasmine looked at her hands.

"You meddling, good for nothing, sneaky, obnoxious, hard-headed pain in the nether regions!" Malika yelled as she stormed to Jasmine. Malika leaned over her and yelled in her ear. "You know what I should do? I should kill you. Right now. I can make your body disappear you know. Poof! You would be gone."

"Malika. Stop," Yumi stated.

Yumi's voice was quiet yet powerful.

"She has compromised our security and almost caused our mission to fail."

"Malika. This is not the time." Yumi replied.

"You need to stop pampering this human. She is a liability to our mission."

Jasmine looked up suddenly. "And just what is that mission Malika?" She drew out Malika's name, accentuating each syllable.

Malika clamped her mouth shut and stood up.

"Are you here to harvest brains?" Jasmine asked, looking at each person.

"Jasmine, we would never hurt a human." Yumi answered quietly.

"Whatever. Are you scouting how to take over the country? Are you going to kill humans, take their places and over throw the government? Will you be blowing up the planet?" Jasmine's voice rose in pitch as she teetered on the edge of hysteria. She clenched her fists, struggling to hold on to control.

"Jasmine, it is nothing like that," Yumi.

"You are here. You are not human. The only reasons I know of aliens going to a different planet are to take over, spy or experiment," Jasmine accused.

She banged her fists against her thighs.

It is none of the above. Please believe me.

"Don't do that!" Jasmine grabbed her head.

"Do what?" Honorio asked as he walked to Jasmine and touched her forearm.

She jerked away from him.

"Nothing." Jasmine snapped.

He grabbed her arm tightly and stared at her intently.

He squeezed so hard she squeaked. "You're hurting me!" She slapped his hand.

"Oh?" Honorio said, again not aware of his own strength.

He let go quickly. They both looked at the red marks on her arm. She would have sworn that it was already turning purple.

"What's the matter with you?" She yelled at him. "You don't hurt humans, huh?"

"I did not intend to hurt you. I merely needed to test something. I apologize for any harm that I inflicted."

"Whatever," she said as she rolled her eyes and rubbed the forming bruise.

"So what now? Are you going to let Malika kill me and bury my body?" Jasmine shouted.

Malika snorted.

"No. You will just stay away from us and we will stay away from you." Honorio stated calmly.

"Fine," Jasmine said.

"Fine," Honorio said, backing away.

"Fine," Jasmine repeated.

She glared at Honorio. She wanted him to look away. She wanted him to feel shame or whatever aliens felt in situations like this. He simply gazed back. His eyes flicked to Tyrone and Jasmine realized he wasn't even paying attention to her. They were talking in their heads.

_You all talk in your heads!_ She snapped accusingly at Yumi.

_Yes. We all communicate that way._ Yumi looked down.

_All those days. I thought you all were silent but you talked around me._ The new revelation crushed Jasmine.

Jasmine slapped the couch cushions on either side of her legs. "You have got to be kidding me!" She stood abruptly. "Take me home. Now." She insisted.

Honorio looked startled. He almost said something but Jasmine held up her hand and shook her head. He gestured towards the garage door and followed Jasmine to the car.

On the drive home, Jasmine looked out the window. The lights from street lamps and buildings drew close and flew past in quick succession. They were little stars soaring past her as she traveled home.

She knew Honorio tried to talk to her as he drove but she tuned him out. She hummed a tuneless melody in her head which blocked out Yumi's voice. She was an island. Nothing could reach her as she struggled to deal with the jarring change to her whole concept of reality and fantasy.

In her frame of reference, aliens didn't exist except for in fiction. Now she sat next to one. She had seen Malika, Tyrone and Joseph change. She had seen Yumi in her house in her true form.

Jasmine struggled internally with redefining her relationship to Yumi. How could she trust her? The whole group had lied to her since she knew them. They pretended to be something they weren't. Saying they came in peace didn't make it true. As Jasmine considered staying away from Yumi, fire and ice raced through her veins. Her heart protested the thought of separation.

Jasmine thought of something else to distract herself from the thought of losing her best friend. She glared at Honorio and wondered if she would forgive Honorio for taking her first kiss. He was a good target for her anger since she had nothing to lose there.

Jasmine knew that she had to have exited the car as she walked up the steps and straight to the bathroom. She shed her dress, willing it to drag away the confusion and disappointments of the day. She turned on the shower and watched the water pour out of the shower head. She stepped in and enjoyed the feel of the hot water running down her skin. She turned the handle hotter and watched steam build up then stepped to the far side of the shower, leaned her back against the wall and slid down. The cool tile on her back sharply contrasted with the warmth of the water. She wrapped her arms around her knees, rested her cheek on her arm and stopped thinking.

***

Jasmine shivered. She looked up at the water and realized she still sat in the shower. She stretched her stiff legs and cringed as her body protested. She stumbled to the shower handle and turned the chilly water off. Her teeth chattering, she stepped out and grabbed a towel. As she walked by the mirror, Jasmine noticed that her lips had turned blue. She had no clue what time it was and didn't care. She stumbled to bed and fell asleep.

**Chapter 29: Post Op**

"That went well," Malika snapped as the group filed into the house after dropping Jasmine off at home.

"It went fine. No one was hurt, caught or seen " Joseph replied as he shed his coat.

Honorio remained quiet as he watched Malika and Joseph enunciate the turmoil in his head.

"Are you crazy?" Malika cried, throwing her coat across the room, "A human knows about us. How could this be fine?"

"She will not reveal our secret " Yumi stated.

"How do you know? Give me five minutes and I could have her begging to tell me everything she knows," Malika stated, clenching her fists.

"She is not your concern. I claim responsibility for her," Yumi proclaimed with her jaw jutting out.

No one spoke. Everyone studied Yumi's resolute face and were stunned by her declaration's implications. Honorio wondered at Yumi's attachment to Jasmine these past weeks. It defied logic and reason. Yumi typically kept a level head and avoided personal connection with others. Honorio wished he could figure out what made Jasmine special. Why would Yumi risk everything to spend time with her?

No matter what the reason, he knew that they needed Jasmine for their mission so he interrupted the arguement.

"She is useful so we need to salvage our connection with her. I have new information that will affect our next mission. She is now the key to our success," Honorio said. He studied each of his teammates in turn to gauge their reactions.

Malika crossed her arms, shifted her weight to one foot and looked away. Honorio knew Malika would be the hardest person to convince. Her fury burned deep inside and Jasmine bore the brunt of her aggression. He knew she would obey his orders but would add her own interpretation to the spirit of each directive.

Honorio's eyes flicked to Joseph who leaned back and smiled. Still smug, still infuriatingly non-challant, Joseph missed the memo communicating how the stakes had been raised. Jasmine added a chaotic, uncontrollable element to the team's mission. They would need to proceed with caution. Honorio hoped Jospeh's wake-up call would come after the mission was over and they were all home safe.

Honorio looked at Yumi who had wilted into the arm chair. Her health waned even further. It was time for her to begin the acclimation process. He hoped they had found the right sample in their rush. The thought that Jasmine's interference had caused them to fail in their mission caused Honorio's stomach to churn. _Please_ he thought to himself. _For all that is lightning, please have the right sample!_

Honorio forced himself to look at Tyrone who would not meet his gaze. Tyrone glanced around at each person, confusion apparent on his face.

"But you told her to stay away from us and that we would stay away from her," Tyrone said, finally looking at Honorio.

"Precisely," Honorio stated, waiting for Tyrone to catch on.

Joseph laughed as he caught on. Tyrone shook his head.

"What? That doesn't make sense," argued Tyrone.

"Think about it. She does the opposite of everything I tell her to do. If I tell her to stay away, she will come back when she's ready. She's insufferable that way," Honorio explained.

Even Malika nodded at his logic though her displeasure emanated from her whole body.

Honorio clapped his hands together and rubbed them like in a movie he watched.

"Okay people. It is time to change the plan," Honorio revealed.

Joseph groaned loudly.

"Hear me out, alright?" said Honorio.

Joseph held up his hands.

"Fine. I am listening," said Joseph.

"Alright. I found out more information about Jasmine that will increase our chances of success. Unfortunately, I am not sure if she had a mental breakdown tonight. Her behavior was... bizarre," Honorio explained, shaking his head at the memory of her piercing scream.

"Yumi, you understand humans the best. Do you think she will still associate with us?"

Yumi thought for a moment. She knew Jasmine had been shaken terribly by the events of the night. Jasmine's refusal to speak in her head worried Yumi. Yumi's limited interactions with human females limited her ability to guess what Jasmine would do next. A bit of knowledge nagged at the back of Yumi's mind, demanding attention; the bond. Jasmine and her strange bond drew them together. She would die for Jasmine. She knew that clearly and felt strongly that Jasmine reciprocated those feelings. Yumi felt more confident.

"I believe so," Yumi answered.

Honorio clapped his hands together.

"Good," Honorio said. He stood straighter and began barking orders. "Tyrone, Yumi, begin sorting through the samples. Find a compatible source and begin acclimation as soon as possible."

Yumi gazed wearily at Tyrone then looked around the room for the bag filled with hair brushes.

Tyrone looked over at Yumi then looked at Honorio and raised his hand.

Honorio stifled a sigh and gestured for Tyrone to speak.

"I can start analyzing by myself. Yumi can get some rest."

Honorio looked at Yumi and worried again at her condition. He nodded to Tyrone who stood and walked through the living room towards the basement. Yumi started to protest but Honorio cut her off with his next order.

"Joseph, go help Tyrone."

Joseph stood up and snapped into a salute.

"Yes, sir!" he barked then abruptly turned stiff-legged and marched towards the basement behind Tyrone.

Honorio squeezed his eyes shut, biting back the verbal lashing he longed to deliver to Joseph. He took a deep breath before issuing his last order.

"Malika, go to the DVD kiosk and rent as many romantic comedies as possible," said Honorio.

Malika's mouth dropped open.   
"What?" she stammered.

"I need to do research," Honorio said.

Yumi cocked an eyebrow.

"What kind of research are you talking about?" Yumi asked Honorio.

"I need to know how humans court each other," Honorio stated.

Yumi leaned her head to the side in confusion.

"Why?" she asked.

"Jasmine's dad thinks that we are dating. I wouldn't want to disappoint him," Honorio said with a smile.

End of Part 1

Aliens Are Real: Part 2 and Part 3 are available now at leading online retailers. Keep reading for an excerpt from Part 2! Do you want to be contacted with updates? Send an email to jasmine@sabrinasumsion.com and ask for updates. You will not receive more spam and your address will not be sold. Make sure to follow her on Facebook at <https://www.facebook.com/AuthorSabrinaSumsion>.

Sabrina started her publishing career by helping other authors set up book events, contact media and develop a marketing platform. She wrote Produce, Publish, Publicize to help other authors write, publish and promote without becoming victims to scams. She ventured into the world of fiction as an experiment. Amazon had just released some cool tools for the new-fangled digital publishing platform, so she wrote the first Aliens Are Real book to experiment with those tools. Over time, she started getting fan emails asking for more. As of September of 2013, Aliens Are Real: Part 2 and Part 3 are available on Amazon.com and other retailers. Part 4 is in the works. In the meantime, she published a few short stories -also available on Amazon.com and other online retailers.

When she's not writing or thinking about writing, she homeschools her children. She also bought a plot printer (vinyl cutter) and makes decorations and business signs for walls, windows, cars, computers, phones, and more. You can find out more about that at SumMoreVinyl.com

She loves traveling the nation and delivering presentations on publicity, marketing, building a platform, branding and many other topics. Could your group use that information for your next conference?

Want to know more about Sabrina or book her for an event? Visit her website at

www.sabrinasumsion.com

or send her an email at

sabrina@sabrinasumsion.com.

**  
**
******Excerpt from Aliens Are Real: Part 2**

Chapter 1:

As Jasmine trod the path to the front door of Yumi's house, she considered how she should proceed. She could try coming off as the tough girl who wasn't phased by the revelation that aliens existed on earth but she was pretty sure that cover was blown the previous night. She knew being repentant or contrite for her complete melt down wasn't an option. This was her planet, after all. She decided that aloof was the best way to act for the time being until she saw how the others behaved.

She paused on the doorstep. Her shock from the night before hadn't completely abated. _Aliens are real?_ Maybe she simply dreamt seeing humans transform into blue balls of energy.

She extended her hand to knock on the front door but pulled it back again, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

_Should I even be here?_ She thought to herself. _Shouldn't I alert someone to these people ... these aliens?_ Maybe if she had a better relationship with her father, she would have told him, but their strained bond wasn't healed by the car he had bought her. A wide chasm divided them, and it would take nothing short of a miracle to bridge it.

She reached forward quickly and knocked on the door before her nerves overcame her and she retreated to her car. She continued shifting her weight from one foot to the other, waiting for someone to answer. She rubbed her cold hands in front of her, trying to warm them in the nippy fall air.

The door swung open. Malika's cold blue eyes glared down at her from the doorway. "What are you doing here?" Malika demanded.

Jasmine frowned. "Yumi asked me to come over."

Jasmine tried to look behind the tall girl.

Malika closed the door slightly to obstruct the view. "Go away." Malika said as she glared down at Jasmine.

Jasmine put her hands on her hips. "You're always so mean to me but I haven't done anything to you. What's your problem?"

Malika only glared in response.

"You are always so horrible. Why?" Jasmine persisted.

"You compromise our safety and the integrity of our mission. You are a threat." Malika said.

"Get over yourself. I'm no threat to you." Jasmine said.

She stepped forward to push past Malika, but Malika grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back. Jasmine squeaked as Malika jerked her elbow behind her spine and forced her to her knees on the cold concrete stoop. The pain was horrible on her shoulder that still hurt from the previous night's escapades.

Jasmine heard a male voice say, "What is going on here?!"

She groaned quietly, recognizing to whom the voice belonged. She didn't need Honorio to walk up at that moment and see her so vulnerable. Why couldn't he see her after she'd saved a baby from a speeding bus or after vaulting a fence to rescue a drowning child? He already thought she was a weak human and Malika's expert restraint tactics made her look even more incompetent.

The pressure lessened on her shoulder socket as Malika released her arm. Jasmine panted on her hands and knees as she waited for the pain to subside.

Malika leaned down to Jasmine's ear and whispered, "I can inflict much more pain easily. Never forget this."

"Malika! I will not warn you again. You are in violation of our directives in front of the whole neighborhood." Honorio's voice sounded strained. He dropped his voice to a hiss as he continued. "I will take field action if you will not control yourself."

Jasmine sat back on her heels in time to watch Malika drop her chin slightly. She then turned on her heel and stomped upstairs. While delighted that Malika was put in her place, she worried what the shame would do to her. Could this crazy alien take out her wrath on the earth? The thought caused Jasmine to shudder. Jasmine stuffed her concerns down and concentrated on the present and the handsome façade that hid an alien in front of her.

"Jasmine, why are you here?" Honorio's caramel-toned face flashed through several emotions that Jasmine couldn't track. She caught a whiff of his cologne, the smell causing her knees to buckle. She spent a lot of time the night before up close and personal with Honorio and the smell reminded her of their lips touching.

Jasmine tried to answer. She hated the fact that merely looking at him caused her heart to jump and her lungs to stop working properly. She forced air into her body then responded. "Yumi invited me over."

The strong arms that so recently had surrounded her were now wrapped tightly over his chest. He pursed the full lips that had touched hers in mockery of the affection a kiss was supposed to convey. She pulled her shoulders back, ignoring the pain and stood up, ready for another fight about her friendship with Yumi.

She spotted Yumi, along with Tyrone and Joseph in the entry way behind Honorio. Flashing a quick smile at Yumi, she squared off to Honorio.

He gazed back at her with a bemused expression on his face. "What can I do for you?"

Jasmine lifted her chin. "Yumi invited me over." She was almost daring him to challenge her.

Everyone looked at the petite girl whose alien body hid in a human, Asian form with almond shaped eyes and dark black hair.

"I ... felt it necessary to evaluate the demeanor of Jasmine after learning of our nature," Yumi stated.

Honorio glanced at Jasmine then back at Yumi. "We do not have a phone. How did you invite her?"

Yumi stood straighter. "There is a phone at the corner convenience store."

Jasmine observed the exchange, struggling to prevent her astonishment from showing on her face. Yumi had called out to Jasmine in her mind twenty minutes ago and asked her to come over. After much pleading on Yumi's part, she had agreed. By now, she was used to the telepathy with Yumi but knew the girl would be in trouble when the rest of her group discovered their ability.

_You're lying to your group?_ Jasmine asked Yumi, telepathically.

Yumi's eyes flicked to Jasmine's face. _There is no lie. There is a pay phone at the convenience store._

Jasmine smiled. It amused her that aliens stretched the truth as well. Maybe they weren't so different from humans after all.

Yumi grabbed Jasmine's hand. "Jasmine, come with me." They half- walked, half-ran upstairs. Jasmine's arm felt numb by the time they reached a doorway on the left, and they ran into the room.

Jasmine plopped on the bed and rubbed her hand along her prickly-feeling skin. "At least I've figured out why my skin tingles every time one of you touches me."

Yumi sat by Jasmine and looked confused. "You tingle?"

Jasmine shrugged and rubbed her arm a couple more times quickly before dropping her hand into her lap. "Yes, but it makes sense because you're a ball of electricity."

"In my human form I should not affect you in any way different than any other human being." Yumi gazed at Jasmine's arm so intently that Jasmine felt uncomfortable.

After fidgeting for what felt like an eternity, Jasmine broke the tension. "So ... read any good books lately

"Well, I am wading through a dissertation on group mentality in primates and the cross comparison to human beings. It is rather dry."

"What? ... Why would you read that?" Jasmine wasn't actually interested in the answer. She stood and wandered around Yumi's room, inspecting the sparse furnishings that she had ignored on her first trip to Yumi's house. Had it really been a week ago? It felt like years since she thought Yumi was a human and raced to her house to rescue her from her friends. Why couldn't their secret have been drugs or a gang? That would have been much easier to handle, but instead they tried to conceal the fact that they came from a different planet.

Jasmine paced in the small room trying to shake the tension in her shoulders. Anxiety washed over her in waves as her subconscious and conscious mind processed who, or what, shared the room with her. She wasn't comfortable in the house, fully aware that the possible doom of mankind wandered below her, masked as teenagers.

Jasmine felt Yumi watching her pace. The friendly alien said nothing for a minute, making the silence worse. "It is my job to learn as much as possible about what motivates your species."

Jasmine scrunched her nose in disdain. "Why?"

Yumi shrugged. "So that we can understand your people more fully. If there comes a time when it is deemed prudent to make our presence known, we need to know how to talk to your leaders."

"Take me to your leader." Jasmine mocked in mono-tone as she mimed a robot impression. She felt a giggle trying to force its way up her throat from the hysteria she kept squashed down into her gut. A glance at Yumi's cocked eyebrow and squinted eyes showed that the cultural reference was lost on her friend.

"Honorio is downstairs, but why do you want to talk to him and what is wrong with your voice?"

"I was being silly. You know, the whole you're an alien, you want to talk to leaders of the country, classic alien talk ... never mind." Jasmine looked down at her feet, embarrassed. Obviously, Yumi didn't watch the science fiction channels on her television

Yumi clasped her hands together. "You are so fascinating Jasmine."

Jasmine wandered back to Yumi's bed. "Um. Thanks?" She sat on the bed facing the bookshelves where she first encountered Yumi in her true form.

"You are most welcome."

"So why did you want me to come over?" Jasmine asked as she sat next to her.

"To talk."

Jasmine folded her legs onto Yumi's bed and faced her. "Really? Just to chat?"

"Yes. Is that not acceptable?"

"No, it's fine. I guess I don't understand why you defy your group and are nice to me when everyone else hates me." She picked at a small ball of lint.

Yumi briefly touched Jasmine's hand. "They do not hate you. The problem is they do not understand you. We each have a role. Mine is to understand humans. Honorio is our leader, Tyrone is brilliant, Joseph is known for his agility and stealth, Malika is our security."

"That's why she went bouncer on me earlier?" Jasmine rubbed her shoulder.

"She takes her role very seriously."

"You know what I don't understand?" She paused. "Why are you masquerading as teenagers? If I could take any form I wanted, I'd be an adult. They have all the power. You can get credit cards, make tons of money, and do what ever you want to do without someone watching over your shoulder. As a teen, you have to study dumb stuff, do homework, and obey rules. There's no power." Jasmine waited for an answer.

Yumi thought for a minute then answered carefully. "Being teenagers was not part of the plan. We found ourselves in need of a cover quickly and used the first sources we encountered. An added benefit is no one would look for an alien amongst teenagers."

Jasmine chuckled. "So we ended up meeting by accident?"

"Yes, in a way."

"Why don't you just become adults now?"

"We have considered changing. Our hope is to leave soon and make creating new identities unnecessary."

"It can't be that hard. Just grab some hairs and be done with it."

"It is more complex than you might think. We can't absorb just anyone's DNA. Certain strands react poorly with our energy frequencies. We can make guesses by running tests but mostly it's convenient to find one DNA source that works then stick with it."

The memories from the previous night flooded back into Jasmine's mind; Following the group, seeing Tyrone change into a ball of energy, watching the group rummaging through the bags of the musicians from the International Youth Symphony, the kiss ... Jasmine shook her head, determined not to think about The Kiss.

"So why did you have to get hair brushes from the Quest Center since you obviously already have DNA sources?"

"Well, something about our natural body's energy breaks down the samples we use." Yumi sighed. "When they start breaking down, we get sick."

"Which is what's happening to you?"

Yumi nodded. Jasmine studied her face. She did look sick with pale skin and dark circles under her eyes. Jasmine's heart hurt seeing her friend so miserable. She wanted to reach out and hug the petite girl to make everything better somehow.

Jasmine shook her head as though to shake off an enchantment. How much did she really know about these aliens? She didn't spend that much time with Yumi so why was she so invested? She scooted away from the girl.

"Yumi, do you guys have mind-control devices?"

Yumi blinked. "What?"

"You know, some device that makes people do what you want?"

The sound of wind chimes rang through the room as Yumi laughed. Tears sprang from her eyes as she shook with mirth. Her laughter devolved into coughs and Jasmine felt drawn to help, to put her arm around the alien's pretend body.

She started to reach out, but stopped herself before making contact. "I don't see what's so funny."

"I could ask the same question of you. Do _you_ have a mind-control device?" Yumi scrunched her eyebrows together.

The change from laughter to concern confused Jasmine.

Yumi assumed an air of wistfulness. "You are a mystery to me. From the first day we met in Art class, I have felt as though we were born on the same frequency."

Jasmine nodded. "I feel like I grew up with you."

"I don't understand how, but you are different from other humans and I want to know why."

She fidgeted as Yumi stared, as though boring into her soul. Jasmine stood and paced in front of the bed again. The whole situation was ridiculous –straight out of a science-fiction show.

Her temper flared. "You make it sound like I'm special or something."

Yumi nodded once, abruptly. "Precisely."

"Yeah, maybe if being totally boring is special."

Jasmine wished she had something to throw against the wall. Nothing about her was extraordinary. She didn't do sports. She didn't play in any bands. She didn't dance. She didn't do anything that anyone would find interesting. If she were special, her father wouldn't ignore her and drag her all over the country all the time. He might take her feelings about being ripped from home after home into consideration before requesting each new assignment with the Air Force. If she were really special he might even trust her enough to tell her what he did for the government.

Yumi interrupted Jasmine's thoughts. "I can see that you are upset. Why?"

Jasmine stopped pacing. "Why? You don't know why this is so upsetting?"

Yumi shook her head no.

"It's because of this whole thing. You, an alien, on earth. Me, a human, meeting you. Then, you're like my best friend instantly. How? This is so weird!" She threw her hands up in the air then flopped on Yumi's bed face-down. Her frustration chased away her discomfort at being in the alien's room. The thoughts about her dad flew through her mind but she couldn't say them out loud. She wasn't so pathetic that she would make an alien try to tell her that her father loved her. "Why me?" She turned her head to look at Yumi.

"I wish I had an answer for you. All I know is that you _are_ my best friend and my safety and the safety of my team is in your hands."

Jasmine rolled on her back and looked at the ceiling. Her frustration was spent. It helped that Yumi was as clueless as she. A thought occurred to her as she traced the swirls in the ceiling with her eyes.

"You know, I'm probably breaking a law or something. National security and all that."

Yumi nodded, her face grave.

"So how much longer are you going to be here?" Jasmine asked.

"Not much longer. We just need a little more research and then we can go home."

"And you're not capturing humans, cutting them open then vaporizing them?"

Yumi's jaw dropped open. "Of course not! I am merely observing."

"Okay."

Jasmine looked at Yumi who sat with perfect posture on her bed. Her clothes were neatly pressed and her hair was pulled back into a tight bun. She looked so stiff and grown-up.

"You know you're not very teen-ager-ish, right?"

Yumi sat up even straighter. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you talk like adults; weird, overly-proper adults. You know, you say 'I am' instead of 'I'm'. 'You are.' 'There is.' Have you heard of contractions?"

Yumi thought for a moment. "I suppose we concentrated on learning proper English, not the nuances."

"Maybe learn how to slur your words some if you want to fit in better. Also; your posture. Teenagers slouch a lot."

Yumi hunched her shoulders but kept her back straight and pulled her chin in.

The turtle-like stance caused Jasmine to laugh. "No, relax your spine."

Yumi collapsed forward, assuming a hunchback posture.

Jasmine smiled and shook her head. "Um, that's not quite right either. Watch me."

Jasmine slouched slightly into a comfortable position. Yumi watched her carefully and tried to imitate her but fell short of a comfortable looking pose.

"Watch a bunch of TV and observe how the teenagers stand. Then try to copy it in the mirror."

Jasmine's cell phone played a melody from a popular song, startling both Jasmine and Yumi. Jasmine dug in her pocket and glanced at the screen. " _Call from Dad_ " blinked on the screen.

"It's my dad. I need to take it."

Yumi nodded.

Jasmine turned away to focus on the call. "Hello?"

Her dad sounded worried. "Jasmine, where are you?"

"At a friend's house. I left you a note, didn't you see it?"

"Are you with that boy from last night?"

Jasmine cringed. "No. I'm not with Honorio." She smiled at Yumi.

He audibly sighed with relief. Jasmine wondered what bothered him so much. "Come on home. I need to talk to you."

She raised her eyebrows. "Right now?"

"Yes. It's important."

She struggled internally. She wanted to stay and talk with Yumi but she also rejoiced at an excuse to leave. "Five more minutes?"

"Okay, but come straight home."

After saying goodbye, she hung up the phone and looked at Yumi. "It looks like Dad wants to play house again. He says I need to come home."

Yumi searched Jasmine's face. "How do you feel about that?"

Jasmine looked at Yumi out of the corner of her eye. "I _feel_ that it's weird for you to ask me how I _feel_ about that."

Yumi cocked her head. "You do not feel comfortable talking to me about this?"

"I'm fine talking to you but not when you sound like a head-shrink."

"What is a head-shrink?"

"A psychologist or counselor or whatever. I had to talk to enough of those after Mom died. I don't need you to talk like one as well."

"I am sorry. It is my training to be the equivalent of a human psychologist. I will work hard to relate to you in a different manner."

"Yeah, well, I'll try to cut you some slack since you're still learning how to be human." For a moment, she wondered if her dad had gone and found an alien shrink to fix her. She wouldn't put it past him to reach that far to patch his broken, unsuitable daughter.

Jasmine stood. "Well, I better head home and find out what he wants. Parents are such a pain."

Yumi lightly touched Jasmine's arm. "Parents do carry some wisdom. Try to hear him out. I wish I could talk to mine everyday."

Jasmine pulled her arm away because of the tingle but turned toward Yumi. "You can't talk to your parents?"

"Not often. Our amplifiers are damaged and I can only hear our home base sporadically on clear days and from this room."

"Huh?"

"There is something about this room. The way the house was built or the materials used creates a clearer signal. Tyrone spent weeks trying to find a house to re-establish communications. He was fortunate to find this one and it was available for renting."

"I'm sorry. It must be hard to be cut off from your family."

Yumi smiled. "We have learned to cope, and we hope to end the mission soon to return home."

"What exactly is your mission?"

Yumi smiled again. "Do you not have to return home? Your father is waiting."

"Fine. You're not off the hook though." Jasmine pointed at Yumi. "We'll talk more later."

Yumi walked her to the door and they said farewell. Jasmine, on a whim, even reached down and gave her a quick hug goodbye. The tingle spread across her arms and shoulders where they came in contact. Jasmine didn't think the sensation was terrible. She even thought she might get used to it. It left her slightly energized.

**Chapter 2:**

At home, Jasmine sat in the living room with her father. She scrunched into the back of the overstuffed microfiber cushions, wishing she could sink through the fabric and out the back of the armchair. Mortification overwhelmed her, as she realized why her father had called her to talk to him. Her face burned from embarrassment.

Her dad sat on the matching couch positioned at a right angle to the chair. He leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. He glanced at her then looked back to the wall across from him. He continued his halting monologue after clearing his throat several times. "These feelings that start developing inside you are perfectly natural but you need to control them."

She tried to interrupt but her father had gained momentum by the time she figured out they were having the talk **.**

"Boys, especially, have these feelings. Boys have a hard time controlling themselves so you need to be careful around them. You are never to be alone with a boy. Always be in a group. Also, you don't have to do anything you aren't comfortable doing. You know that, right?"

Jasmine covered her face with her hands and leaned forward. She needed to process the fact that she was best friends with an alien and her dad wanted to explain the birds and the bees.

Through her fingers she said "Yes Dad. We don't need to have this conversation."

He gently touched her shoulder. "I think we do. I know we don't spend a lot of time together, but you're almost an adult and I think this is the sort of thing we need to be able to discuss openly."

She wanted to jerk her shoulders back and tell him to butt out. She resisted the temptation to snap at him knowing that the fastest way to end the discussion was to agree with him.

Her dad waited patiently for a response until he could no longer take the suspense. "Well then, have you? ... uh ... I mean ... are you still a ... um ... you know? . .

She jerked her head up and stared at him, mouth agape. She couldn't believe he was asking. When she regained control of her tongue, she replied "Dad, I haven't even kissed a boy." In her mind she convinced herself that Honorio didn't count. He wasn't human so not technically a boy, which meant she was telling the truth. Also, it was a fake kiss which made it count even less.

Her father looked extremely relieved. He sat back a little and slapped his knees with his hands, looking relieved. "Tell me about the boy from last night."

Jasmine shrugged. "Honorio? He's just a friend from school." She sat back into her seat again. She glanced at the clock on the wall and wondered how much longer he wanted to continue talking. She didn't have anywhere to go but she wanted the conversation to end.

Her dad laughed. "He likes you."

Jasmine shook her head. "No way. He was just being nice."

This time her dad shook his head. "Jasmine. I know guys. If he was just being nice, he wouldn't have put his arm around your shoulders or asked my permission to see you."

Jasmine squirmed in her seat. If her dad knew the truth about Honorio, how Honorio treated her, thought she was annoying, and that he came from a different planet, her father would know better.

"Really, Dad. He's not into me like that."

Her dad gave her an I-know-more-than-you smug smile. She fought down the temptation to spell it out for him.

Her dad pointed at her. "Regardless, I want to get to know him. I'd like you to invite him over for dinner."

Jasmine's heart dropped into her stomach. She struggled to find a plausible explanation that would dissuade her father from pursuing this train of thought. She stammered. "He-He's really busy. He probably can't come." She nodded, willing her father to accept her explanation.

Her father's face turned serious. "Tell him if he would like to take you out again, he has to share a meal with me first."

While Jasmine knew that Honorio wouldn't want to come over, she thought of Mark and a shiver of anticipation crawled up her spine. "I doubt Honorio and I will go out again, but you aren't going to embarrass me if I brought a guy home, are you?"

Her dad chuckled. "Would I do that?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's in your genetic make-up. You can't help yourself."

Dad held up his hands in surrender, and laughed. "Fine, fine. Nothing embarrassing."

She pointed at him, and leaned forward trying to convey the seriousness of the subject. "No photo albums, childhood stories, amusing anecdotes or anything!"

He continued chuckling. "So we're going to talk about the weather?"

Jasmine sat up straight. "Yes. That's allowed."

He shook his head. "Jasmine, it will be fine. Let me know when Honorio can come."

She shook her head with frustration. He wasn't listening again. To appease him and finish the conversation she said, "I'll ask him on Monday."

"Sounds good." Dad looked at his watch. He stood and reached in his pocket and pulled out his car keys. "Honey, I need to run to the base for a few hours. Do you need anything from the store? I'm swinging by there afterward."

"Wanna grab me some pads?"

His face blanched and he dropped the keys. He stooped and picked them up.

She had taken care of the womanly purchases since she was 12, after their first disastrous trip to the store. She swore to never again have him anywhere near her while purchasing feminine products. When he had tried to place the bag of maxis on the counter, his nerves endowed him with super-human strength. The bag had shot into the air. He had tried to catch it, but just ended up knocking it up in the air again. He volleyed the bag up several times before the package caught on his grasping finger and ripped open. Pads had shot out, scattering around the checkout. One pad had bounced off the cute guy standing behind them in line. Jasmine distinctly remembered the look of disgust on the guy's face as he recognized what had hit him.

She tried to pretend she wasn't with her dad but he turned to her and practically yelled at her to help pick up the loose items. He was horrified and apologized profusely to everyone in line. She erupted in a full body blush as she squeezed down the aisle and recovered as many pads as she could. The cute boy in line handed her the one that hit him. When she turned around, he started laughing. Had she the power to stop existing - that would have been the day she would have used it.

Now, it was a non-topic between them. She didn't mention the subject, and he pretended woman issues didn't happen.

She started laughing at dad's pale face. "I'm kidding."

"Uh, well, if you need them ..."

She looked at him. He was such a trooper to try to act like he could handle the task. The haunted look in his eyes pleaded with her to say no.

"Dad, I was kidding."

"Okay. I'll see you later then." He turned, grabbed his wallet from the small table by the door then fled the house.

She just hoped that he learned his lesson. Uncomfortable topics like the birds and the bees and _that time of the month_ were best left alone.
