Page 10

Keahi

"I can’t believe he benched me!" I exclaim to Eteri, who just swung by my room now that she’s done with training.

We’re awkwardly sitting on my bed since hanging out in my bedroom is uncharted territory and it’s only adding to the restless energy I’ve been stowing in since Sunday.

I don’t remember ever spending time in here except when curfew demanded it, but that seems exactly what I will be doing this week.

Thanks to Kaz’ punishment, I am allowed to go to my regular classes in the morning but can neither participate in training in the afternoon, nor can I go to the single training rooms to blow off some steam.

There are some public spaces in the academy, but I most certainly don’t want to be around other people right now.

Especially since I can’t put a toe out of line. That leaves my deserted room.

"I can," Eteri shrugged, unbothered by the scathing glare I send her way.

"Honestly, what were you thinking?"

"Nothing.

I wasn’t thinking at all.

It was like every ounce of common sense and self-control left my body and rage took over." I hit my fist into the stone wall in frustration. My knuckles crack, but I don’t react to the pain. Eteri winces.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side," she jokes.

It’s an attempt to lighten the mood, but nothing can help me right now.

I realize this is one of the times when I can’t even stomach Eteri’s presence.

"You should go, I am not in the mood to talk," I dismiss her coldly, staring ahead.

Despite her apparent disappointment, she gets up and leaves.

In the silence, I stew some more and wonder what on earth I should do now. It’s a little before 6 pm so dinner will be available soon. Most people here don’t eat before seven, and usually, I get dinner after 8 pm, but the thought of having the cafeteria mostly to myself while everyone else winds down after training gets me moving.

I get out of my bed and go to the cafeteria.

As expected, no one apart from some younger kids is already in the hall, and I can eat in peace.

Instead of heading back to my dark room once I’m done, I walk to the janitor’s closet, climbing up the vent and letting the fresh air soothe my temper.

There is a slight breeze, and the setting sun colors the blooming field around me in the most beautiful way.

The sight finally settles some of my jittery nerves.

Spring always used to be my parent’s favorite season.

When I really focus, I can still conjure up a faint memory of us taking day trips to the lake and feeding ducklings, although the more years pass, the blurrier their faces become.

I hate it, but I rarely think about them for long enough to sharpen the memory. The thought of them is still painful, and images of the night they were killed quickly flash across my mind, chasing away whatever good time I was thinking off. It always goes like that, so I’d rather not remember them at all.

I bury the thought of them once more, screaming in frustration once it’s done.

I hate how much this still controls and affects me.

If nine years didn’t harden me against this rush of dark emotions and unwanted memories, what will? I can’t even compartmentalize enough to think about feeding ducks without being brought back to the worst night of my life.

I scream again, stomping my feet like that might help.

Normally, I try to be quiet when I am out here to reduce the chances of getting caught, but now that I can’t train, I need another way to blow off steam.

This release will temporarily have to do.

After another five minutes of enjoying the view, I’m calm enough to go back inside.

"What were you doing in there?" a soft voice asks from my right when I walk out of the janitor’s closet.

I nearly jump out of my skin, not having expected anyone to be around, but I force my face to show nothing but indifference as I face the person.

My heart beating violently, I size up the last person I want to have caught me.

Malia stands at maybe half a foot shorter than me, her stocky arms propped on her hips as she eyes me warily, then looks back at the janitor’s closet.

I notice with some unsolicited relief that her cheek is completely healed, my attack having left no mark on her pretty face.

I cringe inwardly.

I don’t think she’s pretty.

Of course not.

Those big blue eyes framed by long dark lashes stand out so much it’s plain irritating and her pale skin contrasts way too hard with her raven black hair. It looks too shiny. She’s too shiny, come to think about it, with her bright smiles showing off her bright teeth and sparkling eyes when she’s around anyone but me. Not that I really notice her. It’s just now that I look at her that it hits me. She’s too shiny.

"You’re staring." She snaps me out of my thoughts.

I huff as if that was a ridiculous accusation and try to walk away, only for her to speak up again.

"I asked what you did in there." Her voice is more demanding now.

Despite myself, my heart misses another beat at the reminder that Malia is as close to revealing my secrete as anyone has ever come.

I try to deflect with my usual scorn.

"The last time I checked, I don’t owe you an explanation.

Besides, what are you doing down here?" I cross my arms and stand tall.

"My room just is back there.” She gestures down the hall.

“Besides, I am pretty sure you do owe me a lot of things after that move you pulled on Saturday.

I couldn’t speak for an entire day."

“What a shame that is,” I mumble under my breath even as I turn around to walk away.

Surprisingly, Malia doesn’t jump straight into another lecture.

She doesn’t say anything at all, but then I hear a door opening behind me and whirl around. Malia’s about to enter the janitor’s closet, her curiosity clearly not diminished how I’d hoped. My nerves fraying uncomfortably, I reach her with two long strides.

"Stay out of there!" I say as I grab her arm roughly.

Despite the force behind my assault, she doesn’t show any signs of being in pain.

Instead, she raises an eyebrow at me and stands her ground.

"I can do whatever I want.

Now get your hands off me before I scream and you can forget all about training for another week." Her voice is low and steady, filled to the brim with distaste.

Horribly enough, another week of being bored out of my mind sounds nearly as bad as never seeing the outside again until I’m old enough to join the force.

"Fine, but just for the books, it is none of your business what I do and where I do it," I grit.

She doesn’t react to my words, just shrugs my hand off and walks into the tight space I just left.

She scans the room and seems disappointed when she finds nothing suspicious. Looking ready to leave, she stops short when her eyes land on the dusty container underneath the vent.

There are footprints on it, and I can literally see the pieces of the puzzle coming together in her mind.

She turns back at me with wide eyes.

"Where does it lead?" she asks, her voice brimming with an excited sort of curiosity.

The prospect of an adventure is enough to temporarily make her forget how much she hates me, apparently, and her voice loses all the hostility she usually reserves for me and only me.

"Nowhere," I tell her nonetheless.

I don’t want to share the one place I have to myself, that’s for sure.

Especially not with her. Who knows how many other people she would tell about this if she found out.

Of course, Malia doesn’t give up that easily.

"Tell me or I will find out myself," she threatens, and the words add another bout of nerves to the growing cluster weighing on my chest.

Despite my nonchalant demeanor, I’m lost here. I’ve got no bargaining chip. Nothing to stop her from taking away what’s left of my peace of mind.

"Always so nosy." I force the petty, useless words out, racking my mind for a gameplan.

I can’t stop her physically since the consequences of that would come back to bite me, but I can’t let her climb up that vent.

I roll my eyes, playing the part, and so does she.

Then, she climbs onto the container and takes out the shutter of the vent.

"Don’t do that," I say firmly, hoping she can’t hear my desperation.

There’s panic simmering in the valley of my stomach, and I am trying hard to play it off.

But then she ignores me and prepares for the climb, and I lose my last shred of dignity.

"Please!" I exclaim.

The unfamiliar word tumbles out of my mouth before I can stop it.

For the first time in years, I find myself begging. The humiliation is almost enough to make me want to take it back and tell her to just climb up the damn vent.

Before I can do anything that irrational, her head snaps toward me.

She looks baffled as she studies me closely, and I am painfully aware of her eyes on me despite focusing strictly on the floor at my feet.

To my surprise, I hear her closing the vent again. Then, she leaves without another word.

My eyes fly to the closed door as soon as I am alone.

What on earth just happened? I know I must have sounded pathetic when I begged her not to climb up that vent, so why would she follow my wishes instead of using it against me?

I know for a fact that I would’ve done the opposite in her position.

Without hesitation.

I stand in the empty room for a few minutes, my mind racing, until I finally walk back to my room.

She’ll probably come back.

She’s definitely laughing about me and telling everyone what just happened.

I despise Malia, and now, I can’t even get her out of my head. I pace my room for a little while, doubts plaguing me until I can’t take it anymore.

I walk to the cafeteria where Malia is sitting at a table with her friends, laughing.

About me, a voice in the back of my head insists, and I ball my hands into fists.

I stalk up to their table, but none of them pays attention to me.

"What’s so funny?" I snap, making their heads turn toward me in the blink of an eye.

"What do you want, Keahi?" Malia is annoyed, and it only seems to make me angrier.

"What were you laughing about, huh?" I’m not letting her turn me into a joke.

"That is none of your business.

What is wrong with you all of the sudden?" She doesn’t seem to be scared of me, even after what happened at training, so I turn toward one of her friends.

At least the lanky little guy is staring up at me with wide eyes. It’s good to know some kids here still have an ounce of respect for me.

"Tell me," I demand.

He shoots a nervous look in Malia’s direction, and I feel a small hand on my arm the next second.

Malia starts pulling me across the cafeteria until we are in the deserted corridor, causing murmurs to erupt at tables left and right at how she’s manhandling me.

"Stay the fuck away from my friends," she tells me sharply once we’re alone in the hallway.

"Then don’t talk about me," I retort stiffly.

That earns me a furrow of her brows.

"I don’t know what you are talking about.

You might think everything is about you, and sorry to burst your bubble, Princess, but it is not." She rolls her eyes and walks back to where she came from.

I look after her until she is swallowed by the crowd, stunned.

So, she hasn’t told her friends about my moment of weakness.

They weren’t laughing about me.

I am not delusional though; I know she’s just waiting for the right moment to use this against me. I just need to find some leverage on her in the meantime...

Malia

I sit back down at the table where my friends look at me expectantly.

"What was that all about?" Dustin demands, and I’m glad to see that some color has returned to his face.

I hate that Keahi scares him so much.

That he scares anyone at all.

"No idea." I shrug.

I’m not sure why I am keeping my encounter with Keahi earlier today a secret.

Or this one, come to think about it. I probably just don’t want to talk about him. He is not worth the breath.

Besides, I’m not even sure what exactly happened other than that he begged me not to climb up that vent.

There was a short moment where I could see the desperation in his features, and he looked almost vulnerable.

I’m not the type of person to use something like that against another person, even if it is a bad person like Keahi. It sounds like something he’d do, and I don’t want to sink to his level.

Like I said, it’s not worth mentioning.

Within minutes, Wystan and Dustin are back to cuddling and teasing each other, the interruption already forgotten.

While it is great to see my friends this happy, I’m third-wheeling way too hard, so I don’t stay long after everyone has finished their food.

I’ve never had as much as an infatuation with anyone, and while I don’t particularly care, I have to admit that seeing how much the two are smiling at each other constantly makes me a tad bit jealous.

Not because I want to be all cute and cuddly with someone.

That doesn’t seem like me. But my two best friends have made me feel like I belong from the very first day and now they’ve got their own private thing that I can’t be part of and it stings.

By myself, I walk toward my room and pass the janitor’s closet.

I linger, curiosity about what Keahi is hiding and temptation to find out seizing me fiercely.

After a moment filled with possibility, I get over myself and pass the door.

I go to breakfast early on Tuesday morning and sit alone at a table, doing some last-minute preparation for an exam I have later this morning.

There are barely any people here yet, which should make it easy for me to focus.

If only I could shake the feeling that someone is watching me. I can’t find anyone looking, I’ve checked, but I can feel the attention. My skin prickles warmly and my cheeks burn.

I ignore my paranoia and eat my sandwich.

When I’m done, I head to my classroom, surprised to find myself being the first there.

Keahi is in this class and usually already waits in his seat by the time I arrive.

Today, the door opens soon after I’ve laid out all my stuff and Keahi walks in as if my thoughts had summoned him. He doesn’t spare me a single glance.

Once I look away from him and face the front, I feel my cheeks heating the same way they did at breakfast.

It’s the same exact feeling of being watched, and I wonder if Keahi was in the cafeteria with me this morning or if I am being paranoid again.

I drop my pen to have an excuse to subtly turn around only to see Keahi focusing on the paper in front of him.

So that’s it.

I am being paranoid.

Still, the strange feeling doesn’t go away for the duration of the class and only gets better when I am in the new classroom for my second period. Strange.

Part 3

Age: 15