Felicity, in a bathrobe, wandered out to the kitchen. Thank you, God. Class is at nine, Felicity thought. She later learned she had missed the morning run. Crested lay on the couch in the gym uniform. She ate dog biscuits from the box with morning cartoons on the television. Great. She watches anime. I'll never hear the end of it, Felicity thought. Crested rummaged in the box to pull a biscuit out and crunched away. A dog girl eating biscuits is not strange, Felicity thought and continued to the kitchen.

The dorm rooms had small kitchens. Two Air fryers ran with the smell of chicken fried stake. The rice cooker hummed with six pounds of grits and water. Empty boxes of stick butter lay next to the rice cooker and three dozen biscuits baked in the oven. The refrigerator had a case of eggs, three gallons of milk, and piles of vegetables and fruit. It would all be gone by dinner.

At home, Felicity had eaten like her parents, a diet of lite meals, not vegetarian, but not much meat or fat. Her nutritional needs soon required her to eat by the bushel, not the plate. She required dense food. A traditional southern diet knocked up to eleven could give her the calories.

The siphon coffee maker came out from under the island cabinet. The glass and brass art piece had cost her months of allowance but was worth it. A crunch came from the couch.

"How can you eat dog biscuits?" Felicity said.

"Bark."

Bark? Felicity thought. The dog girl hadn't said anything while Felicity unpacked. All She did was lay on the couch watching television.

"For breakfast?" Felicity said.

Crested's ears perked, rotating to the sides.

"The biscuits have to be more savory than sweet. As breakfast food? I don't know," Felicity said. Crested rolled over with full attention to the door.

The dog girl jumped as it opened. A blond girl walked in wearing a midnight blue cloak. Her hair stuck out at all angles. She gave Crested a head pat.

This girl is a wreck, Felicity thought.

Go-Go zipped in, and her hair fluttered wild without the ribbon. Go-Go didn't say anything as the blond's attention turned to Felicity. The girl walked over to the kitchen island. She looked Felicity up and down.

"Your flat," She said with eyes that seemed to look through, rather than at her.

"You're not getting coffee," Felicity said.

"Tsk," she said.

The girl reached into the box for a biscuit. She bit down with a crunch as she walked to the unused room.

Go-Go, let out a breath. "Honey, she likes you," Go-Go said with a genuine smile.

"I'm not thrilled. Who is that?" Felicity said.

"The Loop-Gyaru," Crested said. Her voice sounded small and raspy. Her accent was from the Upland South. Felicity poured a cup of coffee.

"You can talk?" Felicity said.

"Yeah, I can talk. I'm an honor student." Crested said.

"Honey, you drink from the toilet," Go-Go said. "Flat, can you pour me a cup?"

"Sure. Flat? Really?" Felicity said. Go-Go smiled.

"It's gonna be Flat," Go-Go said.

"Bark."

Gyaru walked out of her room dressed in black compression shorts and a bandeau. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. It gave her an illusion of six feet. She had a layer of fine blond body hair. It even came up the sides of her neck. Something about her face confused Flat. Coy had said her name. Barbra Yamamoto.

Is she Japanese? At least some, Flat thought.

The school uniform helped explain the code name. Her blouse opened one button too low. A sweater tied at the waist, with a short skirt and compression shorts. Black ko-gal socks hung from her knees, and the tie was loose around her neck. The Loop-Gyaru. The Wolf-Gal. French and Japanese.

Gyaru's face had no life in it. The shower and breakfast had not helped. They finished breakfast along with five pounds of sausage gravy ordered from the school kitchen. The girls ate in silence. After breakfast, Flat got a head start on the dishes.

"Honey, you better get dressed. We need to get downstairs first," Go-Go said as she tied the ribbon.

"Why?" Flat said.

"We're the Mean Girls," Go-Go said.

The girls from the third floor trickled into the classroom. Hats were off indoors and worn behind the shoulders held by the chin cord. Go-Go showed Flat how to slip the chin cord under the bow tie to hold the hat in place. Crested's hat had holes cut for her ears.

Thirty girls chattered away in the halls. It brought the school back to life. Go-Go, Crested, Gyaru, and Flat walked into homeroom. Hats and blazers went on a run of hooks along the wall. Flat went to the front to take a seat. Gyaru and the rest were in the middle row.

"Tsk, Flat, over here," Gyaru said. Flat moved to sit with the other three.

I'm in the top clique, and it sucks, Flat thought.

A woman walked in, a teacher. Go-Go leaned over to Flat.

"That's Mama Bear," Go-Go Said.

Mama Bear stood over six feet with straight honey blond hair. Her overdeveloped shoulders were not attractive. Youth had left her long ago after she broke her nose in a fight.

"Good morning. Barbra, will you make it?" Mama Bear said.

"Maybe," Gyaru said. Her head lay on the desk. Go-Go patted Gyaru's back.

"Felicity. I'm Mama Bear. The Dorm Mother and homeroom teacher. We'll talk later," Mama Bear said.

Flat nodded.

"Coach Fly will teach kickboxing this year. I'll teach Mixed Martial Arts and FEMA," Mama Bear said. A groan echoed around the room.

Introduction to the Incident Command System sounded exciting, but it got dull. The second class was Basic Incident Command System for Initial Response. Unfortunately, it turned into a come-as-you-are Incident Command System. Nothing that day had been Hero related. They had three hours of class.

"Enough for today. We have Pilates before lunch," Mama Bear said.

The first hour of Pilates made Flat wish for more FEMA training. Unused muscles rebelled against her every movement. Flat learned Super strength did not equate to endurance. Conditioning came over time, by doing.

At lunch, Flat staggered into the dining room. The cooks went home early after cooking the breakfast orders. A row of tables with bulk boxes from Super Taco-Taco filled the lunchroom. Thirty hungry girls descended on the food.

There were boxes of Impossible Mission Burritos and Emperor Max's 25-count Taco-Taco Boxes. Two tubs of pepper purée and cheese sauce. Buckets of Super Taco-Taco kits of pulled beef, pork, and chicken. With pounds of extra cheese and taco-taco shells. Two buckets of seasoned bean paste steamed when opened. Advanced Humans, regardless of their abilities, needed high-calorie diets.

Flat ate lunch with the Mean Girls and a few others.

"How do the boys at North eat? Flat said.

"Honey, they use a trough," Go-Go said.

"They have about the same but twice as much," Florida said.

"What are they like? Do we ever see them?" Flat said.

No one answered. A few at the table glanced at Gyaru.

"On patrols or when we bail them out of trouble," Gyaru said.

"Honey, we see the boys at night," Go-Go said.

"Tsk," Gyaru said with a roll of her eyes. She got up to leave the table.

"Poof. Let's go," Gyaru said as she walked away. Crested followed her out of the lunchroom.

"Did I say something wrong?" Flat said.

"No. Go-Go is teasing. Gyaru has a boyfriend at North. It's against the rules, but it's an open secret," Maple said.

"Why's that against the rules?" Flat said.

"Old rules and the mischief is amazing," Maple said.

"Honey, Gyaru's responsible for most of the rules. Sorry, I got to Go-Go-Go," Go-Go said. She zipped away.

Florida smiled. "Maple handles the cover-ups," She said.

"Flo, It's called spin. It's what we do in public relations," Maple said.

"Crested has Bernard. Can you spin that Maple?" Florida said.

"Bernard?" Flat said. "Wait. Is he a canine?"

"Crested and Bernard are in the same pack. They're not dating," Maple said.

"Not dating? He takes her to every school function," Florida said.

"What's Bernard like?" Flat said. She leaned over to Maple.

"They were home-schooled together in Birmingham. He's part Saint Bernard," Maple said.

"But they're not dating?" Flat said.

"Gyaru explained it once; the pack is closer but not romantic. No romance, no rule violation." Maple said.

"He's like her big brother," Florida said.

“Rudy keeps the boys on a tight leash. They get aggressive,” Maple said.

“Aren’t they suppose to be?” Flat said.

“A lot of them come from Hero families. Of the thirty five boys, thirty are Baselines. They’ve been told they’re the Children of Heroes all their lives and for them its true. But their heads are filled with unrealistic expectations,” Maple said.

“It can get very Lord of the Flies at North,” Florida said.

After lunch, Flat returned to Room Six to switch to a clean gym uniform. Despite the physical activity, the day was going fine. As she walked in, Gyaru held Crested to the floor with a knee on the dog girl's back. She whined and struggled. Flat grabbed Gyaru to pull her off.

"Stop! You're hurting her." Flat said.

Gyaru turned and with one hand pushed Flat into the wall. She hit with a thud that cracked the drywall. Flat felt shocked for a moment from the impact. She watched Crested squirm out from under Gyaru's knee to run off.

“Poof! Get back here!” Gyaru said.

Gyaru stood, and Flat had no idea what to do. She raised her hands as Gyaru handed her a bottle.

"Tsk, You give it to her," Gyaru said. She walked off to her room.

Flat held the bottle with a dropper tip. The prescription label read: Ear Mite Medicine, Poppy O'Neil.

Flat was late to Mama Bear's office. She had chased Crested all over the third floor. It was a great start to the first day of school. With the ear mite medicine in both ears, Flat went to face Mama Bear. The teacher smiled and offered Flat honey cookies with a cup of weak black tea.

"Why do you want to be a Hero?" Mama Bear said.

"I never wanted this. It never entered my mind. I want to be a concert percussionist or be in a jazz band. I can play anything with mallets," Flat said.

"Now you have no choice?" Mama Bear said.

"I have a choice. I could get sick from malnutrition. Or wait for the organ traffickers to get me," Flat said.

"The problems of the Baselines are different from the monstrous humans," Mama Bear said. "We are the Children of Titans. Our abilities manifest at birth. What troubles us is different. Instincts from two different species compete in our heads. It can make understanding us, complicated. What I'm saying is I need you to give Barbra a chance," Mama Bear said.

"Barbra? Why?" Flat said.

"Barbra has been in this school from fifth grade. Poppy is a year younger. Jenny arrived in seventh grade. Coming in as a junior, you're not here long. You're the closest to a normal girl they've been around in a long time." Mama Bear said.

"Normal?" Flat said.

"I shapeshift into a bear. I eat honey and salmon. Poppy requires ear mite medicine. The Mean Girls from last year included a Frost Jotunn and a Ghoul. You're as close to normal as it gets," Mama Bear said.

"So I put up with her?" Flat said.

"Barbra is having a bad week. Two days ago, with the U.S. Marshals, she had a P.C.P. exposure. As a werewolf, she can regenerate. But it takes a lot out of her. Two Deputies are still in Intensive Care. Now Barbra is trying to set an example to the third floor and pull everyone together as a team. Shes not quite herself yet," Mama Bear said.

Flat sighed. "I can play to her rhythm," Flat said.

"The school appreciates the effort," Mama Bear said.