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While she might have been enrolled in level three classes, a few things set Ylaine apart from her teenages classmates. She was not into their fashion and their music, their television and movies. She had an interest in fashion, yes, but it was all her own, and she had no interest whatsoever in music. Film and television held little appeal. She could, if she wished, dredge up films or scripts or stills in her head, but aside from a small selection of mid-20th century classics it did not interest her. She liked Audrey Hepburn and Donald Sutherland. The current stars and celebrities and proliferation of reality and blockbusters were, in a word, tasteless.

It was not only her tastes which differed. There was the matter of her personality which was, succinctly, isolationist. She made no attempts to engage any of her classmates or participate in any of their social endeavors, and for the most part they did not try to include her, as she was too different. Too disinterested.

The third thing which distinguished her from them was the simplest. She was smaller than they were.

She wasn't so small as she had been when she started in level three. Like most children her age and Patch children in particular, she grew like a weed, but she still could not have passed for more than eleven or twelve. Among children who belonged in the 14-17 age range it was a considerable height difference. An elementary school student among high schoolers.

Sometimes they did not see her. Sometimes they saw her and did not care as they pushed through the halls, jostling one another between classes. Today, for whichever reason, someone had pushed Ylaine to the side and she had lost hold of her purse and papers when she bounced into the lockers. Papers, makeup, and accessories had gone spilling out across the hallway floor and Ylaine, looking little more girlish today in a frilly pink frock and a pair of brown braids across her shoulders, stood there and stared at the scattered mess that was her things.

What he could not have expected was the positively chilly reception his actions received. There was no smile, no gratitude. Ylaine glared at him with a mixture of disdain and angry indignation. She crossed her arms. When she spoke, her voice was a low, dangerous hiss. "Do I look like I require your help?"

She was aware of the fact that a few other students in the hall had noticed the exchange and there were eyes and ears upon her.

Ylaine crossed her arms and turned up her nose. "Yes I do!" It was a pronouncement as haughty as it was certain. "And I should think that you might learn some manners before intruding on other peoples' business! Honestly! What sort of a zoo were you raised in?" She paused like she expected a real answer to this question, but in reality she was rethinking her decision to cross her arms because it made angrily snatched the papers from Joshua's hands rather difficult, but as usual she was loathe to admit she had made a mistake and reverse her decision.

"Pfff!" went Ylaine with a short laugh, using the outburst as the excuse she needed to uncross her arms and yank her papers back. She was wryly amused that he thought his opinions mattered one bit to her, and as to his assertion that she was alone, she could only think the words I wish. That would be so lovely to be alone in the universe with no one around her. No classmates, no so-called grownups, nothing but her and the peace and quiet. "And you're not half as nice as you think you are. Clearly. Sticking your nose into other people's business without asking." She followed up this indictment with a scoff for good measure.

The hallway at this point had emptied save for the two of them and Ylaine was now Joshua's only hope, unless he started knocking on classroom doors. She considered this fact. Had she not been wearing a wig, Joshua would probably have been able to see the ideas rolling around in her brain. He was at her mercy. How could she make the best of the situation? She so relished every opportunity she encountered to belittle and overpower her schoolmates without the wandering eyes of teachers to make note of what she was doing and complain about her behavior. "Yes, I could show you," Ylaine concluded, but made no sign that she intended to move in any direction.