Roach Motel

[Roach Copeland]

His roommate didn't snore. And surprisingly, that annoyed Roach.

Roach had been laying in bed for the last three hours, simply staring up into the ceiling as he tried too keep his mind from wondering into imagination and daydreams. He'd never get to sleep that way- So, he just counted his breath. One, in, two, out. Three, in, four out.

It was by the time he had gotten to 'two-hundred and sixty four, in' when he just gave up on the thought of sleep altogether. Instead, he concentrated on the sounds of the dorm. The smells. The lingering hints of thoughts and dreams that his bunkmate occasionally broadcasted (most of which concerned a girl called Crystal Posie).

Gotta check her out sometimes.

He smirked to himself at that before rolling to the side and burying his head into the pillow.

Maybe that was the problem. The pillow was... fluffy. It didn't hold the smells of others on it. It was fresh and it was new and... it was ridiculous. The thought- not the pillow. Roach wasn't someone who hated luxury. As a kid, he had secretly dreamed of it- but who didn't? Room filled with pinball machines, plenty of ginger ale in the fridge... One of those SUV's with a hot tub in the back. So, the fact that the pillow felt 'too new and clean' was just weird.

And yet, it did bother him. As did the silence of the dorms and the lightly scented pine smell that came from cleaner. As did the crisp uniforms and the people who spoke with big words and had fancy names. And how they all smirked and laughed at his nickname.

The whole place felt new. Clean. Safe. Dignified. Elite. Similar but different from the other schools that he had tried and failed at before.

Roach wrinkled his nose at that thought, hoping he could push it away but knowing he couldn't. The other schools. The other families. The other people he had tried to join but left after realizing he was just wrong for them. Or had been pushed away because they realized it first...

Maybe it was the fear of this place being wrong for him that kept him up? That sounded right- Or at least, it sounded thoughtful and introspective. Something he was sure this Crystal Posie would be all about.

Roach opened his eyes, snorting. He tossed a glance first to the shadows in the corner and then towards the blinking clock nearby. Tick tock and three-thirty in the morning. He rubbed at his face, shifting in his bed again, and tried to focus on counting his breath.

One, in- They seemed okay. Two, out - People didn't like him. Three in - They were going to laugh at him. Four, out - Fear him.

"They're not goin' to find out," he mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut.

No, he would be better. He would keep his powers under control. He'd act weak. Just claim to be able to tinker here and there with thoughts. Just talk about barely being able to lift a feather with his mind. Act weak, roll over and expose his belly, be the omega- he'd be Roach.

A survivor. An adapter.

He wouldn't mess this up like last time. He wouldn't let this slip by again.

Most importantly, he would control his hunger.

[Roach Copeland]

When they had told Roach he was going to be placed in remedial classes until he was able to catch up with the education he had never achieved, Roach didn't think he'd wind up sitting in a classroom filled with twelve year olds. And yet, here he was. Miss Anderson's mathematics.

Front row.

He tried his best to not look like he knew he was out of place. He tried to play everything off as if this was all just a big joke to him. Even when one of the braver children asked if he was 'retarded', Roach just snorted and made a joke concerning the kid's overgrown ears. And yet, it was embarrassing, and he did feel (for lack of a better word) retarded.

Miss Anderson was pointing towards the chalk board, speaking about fractions. Divisions. Something about flipping the bottom to the top and multiplying- Roach wasn't sure. From the first week he started out in the class, it felt like he was always two classes behind and just as he was starting to get the lesson, they moved on leaving him once again lost and confused and angry.

Something hit the back of his neck, and Roach did his best to not pay attention to the spitball. The kids had made a game of hitting the 'giant' in the front row. For the last week, he had been picking off little wads of paper from his vest nightly. So he just kept his eyes focused, straight ahead. Tried to look smart.

One wad. Two wad. Three wad-

Roach turned around, his lips peeled back in a snare only to find all the students' faces calm and staring straight ahead. All playing innocent. They weren't fooling Roach, though. He pointed towards the back, mouthing a few threats.

Snickers ensued.

"Thomas?"

Ugh, the teacher had used his real name. He must have made a face because the giggling became louder as he turned back towards Miss Anderson. She was staring at him, that slender brow of hers raised.

"Would you care to give the answer?" she asked, prodding the chalk board with her ruler.

Roach blinked, looked towards the problem, and paused. Finally, he said, "Three-fourths."

He knew that the answer was correct. He knew because the egg head right next to him knew it was the right answer. Miss Anderson knew it was the right answer, as well because that other brow of hers joined the previous one, raised. She remained silent for a moment before offering Roach a grin.

"How did you solve for that answer, Thomas?"

"I got the right answer, didn't I?" Roach asked, his arms coming to rest defensively a crossed his chest.

"Then you shouldn't have a problem telling me how you got the answer," she responded.

The room grew silent. Roach stared at the problem, his mind trying to wrap around how it made sense to everyone else around him. That was the problem with how people thought. Most didn't think of the formula consciously. Most just saw how it worked subconsciously and bam! Answer.

"Thomas, we've talked about this."

"I didn't cheat- I got the right answer!"

Miss Anderson let out a sigh and moved towards Roach, her voice dropping as the snickering behind him grew louder. "Thomas, I understand this is difficult for you-"

"Ah, cause I'm stupid, is that right? Us stupid Isle born don't know shit for-"

"Thomas!"

Her voice was tougher now, lacking any calm from previously. It was enough to shut him up, allowing for her to continue, the calm slowly drifting back. "I know it's difficult because you weren't shown how to properly do it. I wasn't very good at these either. Truth be told..."

She grinned at him before dropping her voice, ducking her head close to his. "I'm still not the best with fractions."

Roach had the impulse to check if that was true. Take a quick glimpse to see if behind those words were nothing but impulses fired off when a lie was told. However, he didn't want to know. He wanted to believe her face- just like everyone else would have too.

He wrinkled his nose before tossing a glance back towards the math problem. He stared at it for a moment before just slumping his shoulders, his voice turning to a mumble. "I don't understand why you gotta do the flip with that denominator thing."

"Where did you get lost, Thomas?" she asked.

"I don't know... I.. I can't pay attention. Everyone was thinkin' 'bout stuff and... it all gets muddled" Roach closed his eyes, feeling his face flush with heat.

"I don't understand either," another voice sounded behind him. Roach tossed a glance over his shoulder to find a kid with glasses.

"Could we repeat it? I'm a little unclear too," spoke an asian girl with pigtails.

"Me too." "Me three". "I don't really get it either."

Roach didn't need to read their minds to know most of them did 'get it'. That they not only understood how to do all this stuff but were ready to move on. That this was just an act in order to make him feel better.

And... Roach really appreciated it.

Miss Anderson nodded her head before turning back to the board. "Then a review.

Alright- As you can see..."

And the lesson began again. And this time, Roach wasn't distracted by any spit balls or stray thoughts. The class was focused on the task... and it helped.

It helped a lot.