The building towered over him, the imposing red brick walls seemingly bending over trying to crush him as his caretaker ushered him through the thick iron doors.

"I went to school here," said Fred, the caretaker, for the hundred and tenth time. "You'll love it. There'll be kids like you here. But some of them are normal. And you'll be in the art department, so I'm sure you'll make lots of friends."

"I'll be fine," said Jack, smiling his easy smile, his white hair sticking out in every direction. "You worry too much."

"I just feel so bad that I can't keep you anymore," said Fred. "But with overcrowding, I don't really have a choice."

"Relax," laughed Jack, though inside he was screaming protest. "I bet you were in drama while you were here."

Inside Jack was begging his caretaker not to make him switch schools in the middle of the semester from his comfortable, academically focused day school to an arts and science based boarding school. However, he kept that cowardly voice locked inside and put on a good face; he knew Fred didn't want to send him to Burges School of Advanced Studies and the only reason he did was because his home for children was too full and Jack was the oldest. The only thing Jack could do was make him feel better by pretending to be excited-or at least happy0 about the sudden switch.

"You must be Fred Astair," said a large man with a top hat resting on his protruding ears. "I'm Headmaster Moon."

"I'm Fred Astai, Jack's caretaker," said Fred, holding out his hand to shake Headmaster Moon's.

"Jackson Frost," boomed Headmaster Moon, his voice echoing through the entrance hall.

"It's just Jack," said Jack firmly.

"Jackson, your things are already in your room,: said Headmaster Moon, ignoring the preferred name. Since you're already in your uniform, here's your schedule and map. You may say your goodbyes now and go to your first class. Fred, I'll see you in my office when you're finished."

"He's a right ray of sunshine," said Fred as the massive man disappeared down the hall. "I didn't realize I'd have to leave so soon. I thought we'd get more time."

"Don't worry," said Jack brightly, grinning at the mousy blonde, middle aged man with thick glasses. "You have to get back to the other kids anyway and I have classes."

"Play nice with the other kids," said Fred sternly. "And remember what I said, keep your talents to yourself. Most of the people here are fine but there are a few who would like to turn you. They already know you have talent, that can't be helped, just don't be a show off."

"Relax. Nothing is going to happen. Keep those kiddos out of trouble for me."

"See you later, Jack."

Jack gave him a quick hug before heading in the opposite direction. One staircase and two halls later, Jack quietly entered a room with twelve other students sitting at their own large black desks. He walked to the open table at the back corner and sat down.

"Class, this is Jackson Frost," said the teacher from the far corner of the room, sounding bored. "Mr. Frost, we're drawing with charcoal self portraits. You have supplies on your desk and there's a mirror and more charcoal on the shelf."

Jack silently got to work, easily sketching out the shape of his face with smooth, flowing lines. The rest of the class returned to talking as they worked. It appeared that the teacher didn't care as long as they finished their projects. Jack tried to tune out the voices and focus on his drawing.

"Who's the new boy?" asked one of the students softly. "Not another freak I hope."

"What do you think?" said another boy, laughing. "No one ever transfers after school has started unless they are talented. What do you think he can do?"

"My money is on weather," said another. "Look at his hair! It's a mess, just like Aster's hair."

Jack felt his cheeks grow colder and knew he was blushing without looking in the mirror. His face would be a light purple shade of shame; he hated being talked about as if he wasn't there.

"Sorry I'm late," announced a tall boy, waltzing into the room.

The teacher and the rest of the class ignored him while Jack studied him. He was tall and muscular, naturally tanned with hair the color of wet sand. With long easy strides, he moved to the desk in front of Jack's, set his cup of coffee down, and turned, meeting his gaze with electric green eyes.

"You're new," he said, his voice the sound of a favorite blanket or jacket, if those objects made noise.

"You're observant," snarked Jack. "You have coffee."

"I'm friends with the cook," laughed the boy. "I'm Aster, by the way. Aster Bunnymund."

"I'm Jack," said Jack.

"It's nice to meet you, Jack."

Aster turned back to his desk and Jack turned back to his sketch, wondering what Aster was thinking about, until a small breeze shuffled the charcoal on his desk, causing him to look up, to make sure no one else noticed.

"What's your talent?" asked Aster, eyeing the unmoving charcoal with interest.

"I like to draw," said Jack shortly.

"I do weather," said Aster. "Mainly thunderstorms but I also can grow flowers."

"How does that work?" asked Jack, his interest sparking instantly. "Does it matter where you are or can you just make a flower pop up anywhere?"

They spent the next hour talking, Aster telling Jack about his powers, what the school was like, and answering every one of the many questions the new boy put to him. By the time they reached a stopping point in the conversation, Aster had walked Jack to his next class.

"Well, this is where I leave you," said Aster. "I'll see you tonight for specials."

"Okay," said Jack.

Aster was gone by the time Jack thought to ask what specials were.

*Hello! This shouldn't be a terribly long story, but any of you who know me know that my stories have a way of taking on a life of their own and taking over.

At any rate, this is the original one shot from my collection of one shots, and will continue on with more chapters just of this story. If you have any questions, let me know.

Always- Ari