Blue Boy

7 November 1998; Loch Tay Regional Combined School, near Killin, Stirling, Scotland, UK
.
Ken shifts his shoulders to settle his lucky Captain America shirt, nabs his weekend jumper, threads himself through.
Across the room, Royal snores on.
Ken rolls his eyes, heads over, gives the bed a shove with his foot.
Royal grumbles.
"Get up or you'll miss breakfast."
"Fi' mo' minits."
"Any longer and they'll shut the food queue 'fore you get there."
Royal groans, flops over, oozes to standing. "How cold's it out?"
"Sleeting." Ken shudders. "Sideways."
Royal whiiines, slouches over to his laundry, digs out what're probably /last Saturday's clothes, pulls—
"Uh, Royal?"
He grunts.
"Ye might wanna take your pajamas off first?"
Royal makes a disgusted noise, strips off both pairs of trousers.
Ken stuffs his feet in his trainers, hovers beside the door.
Royal, dressed well enough for the caf, drags himself over, jams on his shoes.
"Ready?" Ken steps out.
Royal grunts, shuffles into the hallway.
Ken closes up the room, pursues Royal, catches up at the first landing; they make the ground floor together.
Royal opens the door to the lounge.
Ken steps through, staggers, stops, tugs at the skinny arms wrapped around his middle.
The grip tightens.
Ken gazes heavenward. "That you, Mattia?"
""Uh huh.""
"You taken your pills?"
""Uh huh!""
"Then you can walk with us to breakfast."
Mattia squeals happily.
"/If you walk /with us."
""Huh?""
"Like, /beside us."
""Oh!"" Mattia nestles himself under Ken's arm. "/Grazie."
"Yer welcome."
"Can we /go?" grumps Royal.
Mattia eeps; Ken cringes; they both scuttle after Royal into the foyer and their winter gear.
Then it's down the other hall and out into a minor gale complete with thick, icy, horizontal rain.
Ken tucks his nose into his scarf, leads them at a quick march across the bridge into the central building.
"Why is Scotland so /cold?" whines Mattia, diving inside.
"We took it all so Italy can stay warm."
"Ahhh. Why would Scotland do that?"
"'cos we're flippin' eejits," grumps Royal as he fights the door closed and wipes his feet.
They all trump to the main foyer, hang their coats and hats and scarves, hustle a bit to make the queue before the kitchens close, arriving just in time.
Ken collects a tray full of breakfast, looks for—
Murron stands on a bench, waving wildly.
Ken smiles, angles them over, slides in next to her.
Royal drops his tray and himself beside Lessie.
"You have already finished?" asks Mattia sadly, plunking down on Ken's Murron-free side.
Lessie gives Ken and Royal a Look. "/Some of us have important things to do in the morning."
"/Some of us were up late /doing important things," sniffs Royal, dropping his tray.
"Like talking rugby with Kirsty in the lounge?"
Ken focuses on stuffing scrambled eggs in his mouth.
"We had to figure out tomorrow's starting lineup."
"I'm the blindside-flanker!" chirps Aurelie, leaning around Murron.
Ken raises an eyebrow. "You made the top squad?"
Aurelie nods, grinning from ear to ear.
"Congratulations."
"Thank you~!"
Ken goes back to his toast.
Murron nudges his side. "How'd it go with Missus Hughes yesterday?"
He swallows his mouthful. "Alright."
Murron—and Lessie and Royal—frown.
"C'mon, she wants details," needles Royal.
Ken rubs his neck. "We're still mostly, umm, working on control—like, /not noticing if someone's lying or paying attention to one person in a crowd."
"No /actual mind-reading yet? It's been /two months."
"Lessie ... ye /really think I should be messing around in someone else's head 'fore I can manage my own?"
She concedes with a huff.
"It's so /strange to think you know when we're lying to you," says Aurelie.
"Yes, it'd be scary if you weren't so /nice," adds Mattia.
Ken ducks his head.
"Let's test him."
"Lessie, wha—?"
"Yes yes yes!" cheers Christian—where did he come from?—around Mattia.
"Right, then," smugs Lessie. "Everyone gets one sentence, says it straight to Ken, and he says if yer lying or not. That work?"
"Y-yea. I-I'll try." 
Everyone cheers, quietly.
Ken takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, Focuses.
""Me first!""
Ken opens his eyes, watches Christian put his shoulders back and raise an eyebrow. "Go fer it."
"My grandparents live along the Außenalster in Hamburg."
The light, round words float past Ken's ears like soap bubbles.
"That's true, but you should probably try somethin' I couldn't guess based on what I know of ye."
"Oh, riiight." Christian furrows his brow, brightens. "Then, have I told you one of my grandmothers is a swan?"
/Those drop like rocks into soup and The Spot itches.
"Now yer lying," he says.
Christian, grinning, nods.
Ken smiles back, turns to Lessie.
She sits back. "I'm gonna graduate this school with more Highers than anyone in a century."
Her words drift by.
"True." Ken smirks a little. "Or at least you think it is."
Lessie sniffs. "You just watch."
Mattia blinks between them. "What was that about?"
"I, uh, can't tell if someone's just /wrong; only if they /know something is and say it anyway."
Aurelie steeples her fingers. "So if I believe something hard enough, you will think it's true?"
"I only know how to recognize lying, so, yea?"
Aurelie smirks.
Ken braces—
"Werewolves like us are better than plain humans."
The sentence disappears with a splash.
"It's a lie. Or you don't believe it, really."
Aurelie pouts.
Murron hip-bumps her. "Just means you need to practice your acting, yea?"
"I guess ...."
"My turn~!" sings Mattia. "I love peanut butter-banana ice cream!"
/splish!
"No, you don't."
"Right! I like strawberry best!" Mattia beams at Ken.
He smiles.
Royal clears his throat.
"Go on."
"Last time you lot Changed, Christian snuck out and got himself stuck in a cat flap and made me promise not to tell."
The words sink into Ken's brain.
"I did /not!" yelps Christian.
"'s'okay, Royal's lying anyway."
"Yep. I am."
Christian relaxes.
"Even so, you'll never fit through a cat flap," says Lessie.
"But I'm really flexible!"
"Not enough to make it work."
"Will too work," mutters Christian.
Lessie rolls her eyes.
"Alright, Murron, wrap this up," prompts Royal.
She looks straight at Ken, says, "I think you're the best-looking boy at school."
Ken's face flames hot; he ducks his head. "Y-you think that's t-true."
"I do—" Murron snuggles closer. "—and you are."
Ken swallows, pokes at his toast.
"It's bloody amazing how you do that," breathes Aurelie.
"I wish I could be a truth-sayer," sighs Christian. 
"You can learn if you really want to, but it's tough if you're not a natural like Ken," says Lessie.
"Maybe I'll try. It'd be so /useful!"
"You can talk to Missus Hughes when she comes back next week."
"Ken'll put in a good word for you, I'm sure."
Christian sparkles at him. "Thank you~!"
Ken waves him off with a slice of toast.
"Oo! Will you be a—" Aurelie grimaces. "—a what's the idiot—badger?"
"I'm already a wolf?"
"No, that's not it. /Stupid English ... a-a blue boy?"
"A wha?"
"What is the /feckin' word—" Aurelie makes a frustrated sound. "How do you say '/gendarme' in English?" 
"Oh! 'Policeman'!" chirps Murron.
Aurelie brightens. "Yes! /Policeman! Will you be a policeman someday? You couldn't be fooled by criminals!"
Ken rubs the back of his neck. "I ... well, I'm not ... I'm not strong /or smart enough for that." Takes a deep breath. "'sides, I don't think they take werewolves."
"Why not?"
"Something about us needing too much time off to be any good."
"It's because you're bloody dangerous animals," sneers Aleck, strolling up behind Lessie.
Murron and Ken growl.
"Forget a dose and who /knows—/oof!" He doubles over.
"Ye know what's more dangerous than werewolves?" drawls Lessie, tucking her elbow to her side.
"What's that?" grins Mattia.
"Being an arsehole in my hearing."
"She's got ye there, Scobie," snickers Royal.
Aleck gasps off, still bent in half.
Everyone glares at his back until he ducks through the Big Hall doors.
Ken lets his shoulders drop, pokes his toast.
"Hey, Ken?" quavers Mattia.
"Yea?"
"Does he say those awful things only to hurt us or does he really think so?"
Ken blows out a deep breath. "He really believes that's the truth. I think his parents are just as bad and he's learned from them."
Mattia nods sadly. "Like the people in my town."
"So it's good your parents found out about us, yea?" says Murron. "Now you have a whole pack of friends!"
"And the best pack leader, too," declares Mattia, hugging Ken tight.
"The /very best!" agrees Murron, squishing him from the other side.
Ken wheezes.