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‘You okay?' Cora whispers. I give her a small thumbs up and a forced smile. She winks at me. ‘Don't worry. Darsh and I will have you caught up in no time.'

Awareness Meditation is a lot of lying around and imagining a centre light inside of yourself. After forty minutes, I give up trying to find the damn light and watch Truffles the bulldog snore and fart in his sleep. That kind of helps me centre my awareness, though the accompanying smell quickly snaps me out of any enlightenment I might have managed.

There are about fifteen esper cadets in Basic TP, and most of the time is spent reading Zener cards. I quickly discover my TP is stronger than anyone else's in the room and after my ability to evade detection while scanning a subject initially causes quite a stir, the session fast turns boring.

After lunch, I have Diagnostics, which is just more TK tests with Wendell in the sub-levels. Thankfully, there's no sign of Aaron Galloway, and she doesn't mention the possible lock issue with Blake. While I'm curious about Aaron's condition after the last session, I feel it's best not to draw more attention than necessary to my failure.

My feet drag with weariness by the time I finally arrive at my combat session. I change into the provided shorts and singlet and enter the session room with rising dread at the thought of being pummelled by another cadet. The walls of the room are lined with mirrors and thick mats cover the ground. There's only five other cadets in the class, all dressed in identical clothing, and I'm glad to see Cora there. I'm not so glad to see Jasmine Harper, the girl with the blue dreadlocks. She watches me with an unreadable expression, one hand playing with one of her ring lip piercings, then turns away when the instructor enters. His name is Velasco and he's got a square jaw with a deep set dimple in his chin. An army cap is jammed low on his head and a black shirt strains across his chest.

‘Alright everyone,' he bellows. ‘Let's start. I want fifteen laps around the room.' He claps his big hands together. ‘Right now, now, now. Move, move, move.'

The group starts out in a ragged run and I keep pace with Cora easily enough, until the eighth lap, when my breath really starts to burn and I fall back. By the end, my whole body aches and I'm sweating in all sorts of uncomfortable places. Velasco strides over, looking disgusted.

‘How in the hell do you think you're going to pass my class when you can't even run a couple of laps?' He leans forward. ‘You think you got what it takes, princess?'

‘Yes,' I wheeze, massaging the stitch in my side.

‘Then let's see what you're made of. Can you fight?'

‘What?'

‘Can. You. Fight?'

‘I guess.' I'm breathing easier now, but my shoulders are cranked tight. Sure, I know how to fight. Doesn't mean I want to though. Velasco gestures to Jasmine to come over.

‘This is Cadet Harper, one of my best students. She's a special kind of teeker, with her talent limited to chaetokinesis.'

‘Chaeto-what?' I look at Jasmine for clarification.

‘The ability to manipulate one aspect of myself in use for defence and attack,' she says, cracking her knuckles.

‘What aspect is that?' I ask, but almost don't want to know.

Jasmine's dreadlocks twitch, then lift around her head, twisting like a nest of snakes. ‘Guess.'

I retreat a few steps without realising it, and I try not to openly grimace at Jasmine's rippling hair. I don't want to get anywhere near those coiling blue locks.

Velasco claps his hands again. ‘Alright, Cadet Ryder. Rumour has it around the academy you have a few mean moves. Let's see what you can do on the mat.'

Fresh sweat breaks out on my forehead as I curl my hands into fists, my fingers aching a little from the healed frostbite burns.

The dirty fighting Bobby taught me probably wasn't going to be acceptable here. Before I can protest, Jasmine comes at me, fast. Her fist catches me by surprise and she lands a solid blow against my jaw, right where Dutch clocked me with his elbow. Pain explodes in my mind as I stumble back, annoyed that once again, I'm getting thumped in the face.

‘Good shot, Harper,' Velasco says. ‘Stay on the balls of your feet and keep moving.'

I duck one of Jasmine's fists, when something prickly wraps around my throat. I realise it's one of her dreadlocks, and I let out a shriek of horror and disgust. My TK scrambles out to help me, but I'm flustered and I can't focus it properly. I swing a foot at her groin and she shifts to avoid it, her hair releasing me.

‘Thinking quick, Ryder. Nice,' Velasco calls out for encouragement. I want to ask how long we're going to do this, but I'm distracted by one of Jasmine's punches, which I just manage to deflect. With a vicious look in her eyes, Jasmine darts behind me and loops an arm around my neck. I grab the crook of her inner elbow and twist, throwing her over my hip. One of the fancier moves from Bobby's lessons. The other lessons usually involved poking eyes, stomping on feet and drunken cursing.

I try to lay a boot into Jasmine to keep her down, but she manages to keep clear and flips to her feet.

‘Easy now,' Velasco calls out. ‘Keep it a clean fight.'

One of the dreadlocks snaps out to wind around my throat again like a prickly snake.

‘Aghh,' I shriek. ‘I can't believe you're touching me with your ratty hair.'

Jasmine bares her teeth and the strands pull tight. I gasp and dots dance across my vision.

‘Enough, Cadet Harper,' Velasco barks. Jasmine gives me a feline snarl, then her hair loosens. I cough, trying to get a full breath.

‘This isn't over,' Jasmine tells me.

‘Go to hell, skank,' I suggest between gasps.

Then my vision is obscured by her fist as it smashes into my nose.

I lean over the toilet bowl. My stomach spasms a few more times before I feel it's safe to straighten up and lean against the cool cubicle wall. There's a gentle tap against the door. I didn't lock it and it creaks as it's pushed open. I look up to see Cora's concerned face peering down at me.

‘How you feeling?' she asks.

‘I've been better.'

She pulls a sympathetic face. ‘Velasco is pretty hard-core.'

‘I don't think Jasmine likes me much, either.' I wipe my mouth, feeling my nose throb angrily. ‘Who knew a busted nose could make you feel so bad?'

Cora helps me to my feet and I walk out of the cubicle to the sink, where I splash chilly water over my aching nose.

‘You didn't do so bad.' Cora tries to sound supportive, like me flaking out after a knock to the nose was a good thing. I throw more water on my face. Before Cora can give me any more pep talk, one of the toilets flushes and Jasmine steps out. She walks over to the sink furthest away from me and starts washing her hands. The bitch doesn't even look like she broke a sweat.

I switch the water off and pat my face dry with a towel, watching as Jasmine dries her hands, finger by finger. ‘What's your problem?' I ask her bluntly. ‘What did I ever do to you?'

Jasmine's eyes stay fixed on her slow moving hands. ‘You exist. That's my problem.'

‘Back off, Jasmine,' Cora says. ‘Stop being such a cow.'

Jasmine's top lip curls and she looks at Cora like it's the first time she's noticed her. ‘Don't you know who the golden girl's parents were? I'd be real careful about who you side with, fatso.'

I freeze. ‘What are you talking about?'

‘Yeah,' Cora snaps. ‘I'm not fat, I have a glandular problem. And at least I'm not mooning over someone I can't have.'

‘Shut your mouth.' Jasmine's hair lifts like the hair on a cat's back. ‘Before I shut it for you.'

Cora sticks her ample chest out and inches her chin up. ‘I heard Aaron Galloway told someone he'd rather be set on fire than touch you and your crazy nit-infested snake hair ever again.'

Jasmine's face tightens at the mention of Aaron's name. Her dreadlocks flip about and Cora stabs a finger at her.

‘Don't you even think about attacking me with those filthy things, or I'll report you,' she says.

Jasmine snarls, then stalks towards the door. She pauses in front of me and I want to ask her what she meant about my parents, but her face is a mask of fury and I suspect she'd just try to claw my eyes out.

‘This isn't over between you and me,' she says, then spits at me. I stare down at the glob of saliva on my left boot, unable to believe that someone I don't know could hate me so much. The bathroom door clicks shut after Jasmine storms out and I look up to see Cora also staring at my boot, her eyes big.

‘Do you know what she was talking about?' I ask.

‘No. But I know that she dated Aaron Galloway for a few weeks. Might explain why she hates your guts.'

‘What happened?' I rub the spit off my shoes with a towel. ‘Why did they break up?'

‘Because it's Aaron Galloway. The man likes the ladies and the ladies like him. With all that charm and money, how can you resist?' Cora sighs. ‘I can't say Jasmine wasn't a bitch before he dumped her, but she was totally heinous after he broke it off.'

I blanch. ‘I've got zero interest in Aaron.'

‘Maybe just stay out of her way?' Cora suggests. ‘She might cool off once she realises that you're not making any moves on him.'

I nod in agreement, but I'm not entirely convinced Jasmine's anger is about Aaron's supposed affections. It sounded more like she knows something about my parents and I'm going to find out what.

There's an hour's grace from when the academic day ends and dinner is open in the canteen. Back in the dormitory, I shower and change in one of the cramped bathroom cubicles. Safely dressed and sporting a fresh bruise on my nose, I check my slate and see Cora has messaged me, inviting me to her room. Travelling up a floor, I walk along a corridor lined with half open doors showing small residential rooms within. Cora answers my knock and ushers me inside. The room is small, with a tiny bathroom and a study table by the window. Her bed has a pink bedcover with frilly cream pillows and a poster of a male actor is taped to one wall. Sparkly ballet shoes are strewn around the floor and her open wardrobe is full of cardigans of every description.

‘Make yourself at home,' Cora says.

I flop down on the bed and Cora makes breezy conversation about someone I don't really know, but she obviously thinks I do. I'm only half listening as she picks up her shoes and shoves them in her closet, my mind still on the confrontation with Jasmine in the bathroom.

‘Are we going to the canteen soon?' I ask.

Cora screws up her nose. ‘It's meatloaf night and you don't want that, especially after the day you've had. There's a pizza joint in town that serves some mean crusts, called the Pizza Palace. Most cadets go there on meatloaf night.'

‘We can just leave Helios grounds? We don't need permission or anything?'

‘Of course! This isn't a prison. There's a bus that travels into town a few times a day for those who don't have transport.'

I glance down at my uniform. ‘Should I change?'

‘They give academy cadets a discount, so I'd just keep it on.' Cora selects a baby-blue cardigan and slips her feet into a pair of ginger-coloured ballet shoes.

‘Looking good,' I tell her.

‘I always try to stand out from the crowd.' She pins on a pair of red button earrings and gives me a whirl. ‘A girl's gotta excel in any way she can.'

Cora heads for the door, while I try to remember how much I have in my personal account. Strangely, in spite of my sore muscles, the failure with my threading with Aaron and my face feeling like an impact zone thanks to Dutch and Jasmine, I feel my life has finally taken a turn for the better.

There's a group of cadets outside Central and soon an electric bus with tinted windows rolls into view and hisses to a stop nearby. Cora and I line up to board and take our seats. I'm relieved that it doesn't cost anything and once again marvel at how easy life is here.