Chapter Text
My name is Cassie. And I had this one really, really weird week.
Do you ever wake up in the morning and realise that it's later than you think it is? Like, you spend the whole day thinking it's Thursday, and then realise it's actually Friday? Well, when Visser Three's hoof stomped down towards my broken, fragile bat body and I woke up sweating and trembling, trying to come to grips with the fact that it wasn't real, I woke up feeling the exact opposite of that.
I knew it was Thursday morning. But for some reason, it felt like the afternoon. It felt like I'd somehow missed a few days and woken at completely the wrong time. And I knew I needed to hurry up and get to school. There wasn't much time left.
I was used to deja vu. I was also used to hearing noises behind me when nobody was there and being convinced, for just a second, that somebody was about to jump out and kill me. I was used to looking at wounded animals and having to remind myself that they weren't my friends injured in battle.
I was used to my mind playing all kinds of tricks on me. So I ignored the feeling, and got ready for school at a normal pace.
Keeping my normal life separate from my alien-fighting life had almost become routine. I wore my leotard under my school clothes and slipped my skintight gloves in my pocket. I checked my clothing for stray blood and hard-to-explain tears. Made sure my hair was in place and my homework was packed. Said goodbye to my parents, and tried not to consider the possibility that they were being controlled by evil alien invaders.
My dad stopped me in the doorway. “Sweetie.” He looked nervous.
This couldn't be good. “What is it, Dad?”
“I, uh, I know this is a difficult time for you. Being a teenager is hard. And I know things must be confusing, and sometimes you don't think you can talk to anyone...”
“I'm fine, Dad.”
“Fine? Then why have your grades dropped across the board this year? Why are you never around?”
“Do we have to talk about this right now?” It was going to take time for me to come up with some good lies for that.
“No. I know you don't want to talk to me about this. That's why I want you to talk to a counselor.” He handed me a business card.
“A counselor.” I stared at the card numbly. It read, 'Wade Johnson, Counselor' with an office number. An office at our school. He was one of the school counselors.
“I told him you'd be around to see him after school. Do it for me, okay?”
I hesitated. I supposed it was a good thing, to have parents who were worried about me. Plenty of people didn’t have parents who would bother with something like this. Some people… well, I’d never even seen a poster for Tobias. It was kind of screwed up that we lived in a world where their concern was going to cause problems. “Dad... thanks for looking out for me, but I don't need – ”
“Your vice principal called. About your grades. He suggested summer school. This was the alternative.”
Something cold trickled down my spine. I knew Chapman was just doing his job, maintaining his cover, but I didn't like the thought of his attention on me. I didn't like that thought one bit.
“Okay, Dad. I'll see him.”
“Love you, sweetie.”
“You too.” I hurried off to catch the bus.
I didn't want my father to see my expression.