• “Flannery.”

    “What, Adley?” she called and Adley heard a zipper being zipped up. That was no surprise; Flannery always wore a hoodie. Why he wasn’t sure, but she always did. Of course, she was often colder than the rest of them, so that was probably a good reason. Still, not even Adley himself did that.

    “You know we’re leaving today,” he said, bored, leaning against the wall next to her door. The wall was cool and rough, painted light green. The Case guys wanted to make the house “as homey as possible”. The six of them often laughed, but they did help out. They mostly gave them whatever they wanted; money was never an objection. Of course it had to be appropriate and reasonable, whatever that meant. The six of them had never received a “no” to any request.

    She grumbled as she slid the door open, her hair recently brushed. The girl was shorter than Adley, and that was saying something. Then again, Adley was shorter than Neal and Warren. Although, Adley was also the youngest. Since they were all eighteen though, it didn’t matter much. Nobody cared; it was as if they were all twins.
    Flannery tucked some raven blackish purple hair behind her ears and out of her face as the door slid shut behind her. The doors and their whole house was hi-tech with all the new stuff, whatever that was. None of them were all too smart when it came to that kind of stuff. In other things, though, they were the cleverest. Adley could take down someone twice his weight and height. And, although Flannery was the smallest, skinny with a thin build and the shortest, she was also the most deadly. Each one of them knew not to mess with her. They could accidentally tip her over the edge and their whole year mission would be ruined. Even the Cases didn’t bother with her. The only one that really got on her nerves was Raina. She was the sort of happy, cheery, and slightly annoying girl of the group. Raina was also very naïve; her personality was very predictable, although she had dark red hair. Everyone knew it except Raina, but Neal had always had a crush on her since 9th grade. That was about a 3 year old crush. They always asked when he’d ask her out, but he was always too shy. That was understandable, too. Raina was so clueless sometimes; she’d probably just ask if they could bring everyone with them and go out to the movies. That was so completely like her, although she wasn’t stereotypically blond.

    “Is anyone up yet?” she asked sleepily, leaning against her door casually. That was the kind of thing Flannery would do.

    “I dunno,” Adley said, fixing himself in a normal standing position. “We should probably check. The Cases say they have somethin’ for us to do, so we better get a move on.” With that Adley turned around, heading down the hallway towards a room of all white. Flannery sniffed and followed him, her hands in her soft hoodie pockets. She wondered what today would bring. A year ago, they had been found by the Cases and brought in, moved into this oversized home with everything they could ever dream of. This was for one price; to help them. They were never told why or what it was for. The Cases were a very mysterious organization, but they were friendly to the six teens overall. This was how Flannery had met her friends: Warren, the oldest, Neal, Adley, Raina, and Aimée. Aimée was very picky about the accent over the “e”. It was a French name, but nobody really cared where who came from. Especially not Flannery. Flannery was described as the most mysterious of the group, never revealing much detail about herself to anyone, no matter what. Warren was black and that was it. That was the cold fact right there and, big whoop, nobody cared. He was still a great guy and a great leader, no matter what his skin color. He acted just the same as they did, and they trusted him completely. Sometimes they got weird looks from idiotic racists, but looks never hurt anyone. The rest of the ages nobody had ever bothered with. It was just them. Age never distinguished them and they liked it that way. It seemed like everybody was equal, even Warren. He was just so great that even though he knew he was the oldest, he treated everyone equal. Someone that didn’t know them might point it out, but the six teens didn’t care. Helping the Cases sure beat going to school. Although, none of them knew why Flannery had agreed to help. She was such a mystery; where she came from, what power she had. They couldn’t determine what she’d say or predict her next action. That was why she was also the one always in the most danger.

    When they reached the white room, it expanded into a normal looking kitchen. It had creamy marble countertops where the fridge, stove, sink, and other appliances were. Then there were a small set of island counters to match, attached to one side. This had the sink, dishwasher, and trash compactor. The floor was tiled white to match the painted white walls. As creative as it was, the teens didn’t really care much for design. The dining room was attached with a glass table, complete with clear plastic chairs with cushions. It was on a soft, white, self-cleaning carpet off to the side. There Raina, Aimée, Neal, and Warren were sitting in their seats, waiting for Adley and Flannery. It was custom that they didn’t eat until everyone was there.

    “I got her up,” Adley announced, taking his seat two seats to the right of Warren, who was at the head of the table. Neal was to his left and to Warren’s right. That occupied those three seats. Across from Neal was Raina, and across from Adley was Aimée. Flannery sat on the other end of the table, just looking small like she usually did. As Adley spoke and sat, it took the attention away from the other four teens to the two, smiles plastered on all their faces. Flannery sniffed again, taking her seat quietly.

    “Morning, sleepy,” Aimée said teasingly, pushing some hair out of her face and looking down at her plate. The table was set already, with plates full of each of their favorite foods. She started to cut her strawberry pancakes, ready to eat. Neal did the same with his buttered toast, hungry as he always was.

    “Good morning, Flannery,” Warren said in his neutral voice, a small smile on his lips. “I trust you slept well,” he said maturely, cracking open the egg in front of him. He continued to add various types of his favorite spices, giving the yolk flavor.
    Flannery didn’t respond, but she didn’t often. Actually, there was something wrong with her voice. Nothing had ever happened to her, but her build was just so abnormally small and frail, something had gone wrong with her voice box at birth and she couldn’t talk for too long before her voice simply cracked and faded. The teens thought nothing of it. Or, at least, they knew not to think anything of it.

    The six teens each dug into their own breakfasts. There wasn’t much talk while eating. It was just munching and swallowing and drinking. There would be the occasional, “Pass the salt, Warren,” or “Gimme a napkin, Aimée.” Other than that chat at the table was nonexistent, at least until someone finished. Usually it was Neal, who always gobbled down his food and then asked for more. It was amazing that he was so thin. This morning, though, Neal didn’t ask for more as he nibbled on a piece of toast. Warren left a nearly perfect, clean eggshell on his plate. Everyone had finished. Warren sat back in his chair, tilting it backwards just a bit.

    “While we have the time to talk,” he started, taking the attention of each teen, Flannery included. “You all know something is going on today,” he started, waiting for a response. They all nodded silently, Neal finally lowering his toast. “We need to be ready.”
    “What do you think is possible?” Adley asked, putting his elbow on the table and leaning forward casually.