Chapter 6

Rachel’s dark eyes locked out the large front windows of the school, still for once in the primarily empty early morning halls of the school. Her dark gray sweatshirt-clad arms crossed over her chest; one combat boot propped up against the brick wall she leaned on. There was an ache beginning to form in her temples, but she kept her jaw wired shut as the thoughts flew. The buses were just beginning to arrive, with close to a half-hour before first hour started.

The morning spring mist still hung in the air, drops clinging to the panes of glass beside her. Her binder sat at her feet, its royal blue color standing out against her personal palette of dark gray and black. Her ginger hair was wrapped up in a messy bun, the ends sticking out haphazardly.

She couldn’t explain why she felt the way she did after so long now. Her house had felt so empty that morning, even with her mom, stepdad, and younger sister there. Someone was missing though, the absence she was sure none of her other family members felt.

She couldn’t remember her real dad, all she knew was that he died when she was one or two years old. No, the pain came when her brother, four years older than her, stormed out of their house and did not come back, living at a boarding school. Her mom didn’t ever talk about either of them and with no pictures up of him anymore, it was like Brady had been erased from existence. Even Amelia didn’t seem to register the difference, even though she was ten when he had left and clearly could remember him. She had asked about him for the first few months, but now after two years, never spoke his name.

The whole situation had been a consistent source of conflict between her and her mom especially. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand that it had hurt her, but it was that she pretended nothing had happened at all. Even right after Brady had left, her mom acted with the same cheery attitude she had always portrayed. The same false-positive energy that her brother had confronted her with several times before he had left.

It was days like this one when the weight of the burden her family ignored would bore down on her shoulders. She imagined herself as Atlas, holding the weight of the world on her shoulders. In reality, she would immediately be crushed, but it would never stop her from trying. Which is why it was a good thing that these days only sprung up on occasion.

She lifted a hand to rub at her eye, her glasses scraping against her nose as she did so. The faded black pen markings on her hand from her late-night doodles blurred her peripheral vision as she lowered it to her mouth to bite on her already worn thumbnail.

She wasn’t above admitting that she had occasionally thought about leaving her home too, but she could never. Even thinking about it made her feel guilty, to leave her family like that, she wouldn’t. They weren’t bad, especially compared to others, but the deep-rooted issues were still there. She always felt guilty even thinking about walking out since her own best friend had it so much worse. What right did she have in thinking about it? Imagining leaving her family was too difficult to do for too long, which made her feel like Brady wasn’t okay; or he would have returned long ago.

She let out a sigh, turning her head and staring dully into the dusty corner where the wall met the windows. The white tile showed every individual hair and speck of grime. It was only slightly disgusting in comparison to other things she had been a witness to in that school.

She adjusted her weight as she lowered her foot, the soft thump of her binder tipping over catching her attention. A huff escaped through her nose while she leaned down just enough to catch the handle and prop it up again, now parallel to the wall. She unzipped the top and pulled out a black pen before closing it again. She straightened, securing the cap on the back end of the pen. She slowly traced the faded lines across her left hand, the first doodle being a small leafy branch that covered the joint between her thumb and wrist.

Downstairs, she could hear more students arriving as more buses pulled in. She was thankful that most of her classes were on the top floor this year, where the walls were free of any lockers. The year prior, she had to push and dodge her way through the crowds, though occasionally, her reputation led some to get out of her way. It did come in handy sometimes.

“Rachel!”

She didn’t always know how to feel about those who decided to look past it, she decided as she looked over to see Asher walking towards her with his awkward, lopsided smile. Her pen froze where it rested on the crest of a leaf, the cool metal tip making her skin tingle at the sensation.

“Good morning,” his smile stretched to a grin, reaching a hand up to touch his hamster nest of brown hair.

“Is it?” She raised an eyebrow at him, before turning her attention back to her drawing.

She hummed, starting the base of another leaf. She could feel him watching her, as he often did. It only made her a little uncomfortable, especially since she had turned him down a few months before; after he had confessed to her in a situation remarkably similar to this one.

“Have you seen Jacob, by the way?” Asher adjusted his jeans awkwardly. “He was acting kinda funky on Friday.”

“Nope,” her eyes darted dismissively to him and back, the pop of the p satisfying in the quiet hallway.

“Cool, I guess,” he cleared his throat as quietly as he could, his left hand raising to play with the bow of his glasses.

“Not as cool as me,” the voice made her pen jolt against her skin, sending a thin black line cutting through her drawing.

Her jaw locked as her head whipped to burn an annoyed stare into Evan’s face. I do not have the patience for this today… she thought, her fingers tightening around the plastic of the pen.

“Speaking of cool,” he wiggled his eyebrows as if she wasn’t shooting a hole through his forehead. “How much does a polar bear weigh?”

“Enough to crush you?” She bit out.

Evan frowned, almost a pout. “No; enough to break the ice.” With that he was back to the infuriating smirk that always made her want to punch him in the mouth… but she couldn’t do that because he was just a kid or whatever. “Anyway, what are you doing hanging out with Sparky here?” He made a face at Asher, before returning his blue eyes to her. “You’re out of his league, Spitfire, besides, we were made for each other.”

She slammed the cap back on her pen, reaching down to grab her binder. The zip of the zipper ripped through the hall as she shoved the pen back inside before closing it once again.

“What do you say we go get something after school gets out?” He continued, unfazed by her attitude. “I’m allergic to you saying no, you know.”

She leveled a look at him for a few seconds before faking an exaggerated sneeze that left Asher coughing out a laugh. “Whoops,” her voice was flat. “Looks like I’m allergic to you.” She weaved around him, satisfaction rising as Asher’s laughs grew louder behind her.

She made her way down the hall, only feeling her nerves start to settle when she rounded the corner. More people were filling up the space, glances brushing against her as she tried to compose herself at least a little bit. Her fingers played with the binder handle, her muscles tight.

She whirled into the girl’s bathroom, a cursed place that no one dared to touch outside of emergencies. She hesitated when she saw that another person already occupied one of the stalls, turning toward the mirror instead. Her hands lifted to her hair, taking out the pins and placing them on the counter beside her propped-up binder. Next was the hairband, catching slightly at her clumsy removal, making her wince as she gently freed the stubborn hairs. She brushed her fingers through the ginger strands, pretending to care how it looked. She placed the hairband around her wrist and shook her head slightly, before beginning to French braid it instead.

Her heart leaped as the roar of the toilet flushing erupted off the tiles, quickly followed by the click of the door opening. Rachel continued to act invested in her hair as a taller, curly redhead came up to wash her hands beside her. She looked older, but not by much. Her light green eyes caught her dark brown gaze in the mirror, offering a somewhat friendly smile before moving away to dry her hands.

She couldn’t help a sigh of relief as the door swung shut with her exit. She was alone, if only for a moment, and despite the smell. She quickly finished off her braid, humming softly, and shoved the pins in where the ends stuck out; storing the extras in her pocket. She stared herself down for a moment, noting the dark circles that were beginning to form. Her gaze lowered down to the smeared drawing on her hand, contemplating it before reaching to take out her pen again.

She lifted it back to her hand, beginning to trace over her purposeful lines again. She stopped, narrowing her eyes at how the plastic felt in her hand. It was almost rubbery, malleable, but only to a point, in her grip. She blinked at it, turning it over in her fingers.

The thought was lost as the warning bell rang overhead, ringing off the tiles. The pen was stuffed back into the binder as she rushed to the door, pulling it open with the cuffs of her sleeve.

She marched through the halls to her Spanish class, ready to go through another hour of struggling to understand a word the teacher was saying and embracing the D grade she had managed to achieve on her last test.

____________________________

Jacob’s eyes darted up to look across the lab table once again, his pencil freezing where he had been writing in his notebook. Anna’s eyes were narrowed in concentration as she said something to her lab partner, Kenzie, twisting her pen between her fingers. She stood on the far side, in front of the wooden storage cabinets that contradicted the rest of the plain white classroom.

His partner, a guy named Tyler, snorted at him as he picked up the ball of steel wool with a pair of tongs. “She’s gonna notice if you keep looking at her like that.”

Jacob blinked quickly, head whipping to look at the other boy. “What?”

Tyler let out a muffled laugh, placing the steel wool on a small wire platform above the Bunsen burner. “You’ve been staring at the new girl since she got here, dude.”

“I’m just curious,” he defended himself, writing off the heat that was rising to his face as being from the open flame before him. The steel wool lit up to mimic magma before them.

He gave him a look of disbelief, cocking an eyebrow underneath his safety goggles. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Jacob couldn’t stop his hand from rising to scratch at the side of his head, uncomfortable under this type of questioning. He watched as the steel wool crumbled apart on the wire platform, quickly going to write down his observations while Tyler just shrugged at him.

“Whatever you say,” the other boy’s voice conveyed no form of belief. “But other guys are taking your ‘curiosity’ as some sort of claim, just so you know. Especially with her sitting with you and all.”

Jacob groaned under his breath, closing his eyes while his face was turned down at his notebook. “First,” he looked up at Tyler. “There is no such thing as a ‘claim’,” He could hear the growl starting to form in the back of his throat, swiftly swallowing it down. “Second, she sits with my friends and me. Third, I’m not interested in her like that, I’m just curious about her. That’s it.”

“Whatever, man,” he knew Tyler didn’t digest any of what he said, but at least the issue was dropped. The Bunsen burner was switched off, the quiet hissing of the flame dying away.

He absently licked his lips as he finished his notes, conscious of his urge to look at her again. His thoughts wandered back to last Thursday night, her father’s words to him ringing in his ears even now, four days later: Promise me. He shifted his foot in memory, feeling the cool sting of the metal through his sock against his right foot.

He shivered at the chill that ran down his spine, his hand running through his hair. The call he had made on Friday morning had left a lingering bad taste in his mouth, his nerves had been on high alert ever since, like the bane of all his problems would leap out from the next corner.

He was aware of Tyler dumping the clump of steel wool onto the scale from the wire platform, muttering a number under his breath while Jacob’s eyes remained locked on the same spot on the black countertop.

Everything had come crashing down on Thursday, the truth that he had pretended wasn’t real, now becoming so clear it hurt. He had spent so long shoving away the past, his reality, like he could have been a normal kid for just a moment. Now, he was left with the knowledge and the promise that would lead him back to the place he had been constantly running from.

He closed his eyes and released a sigh, attempting to ground himself before his past came to drown him again. His concentration was broken, however, by the distinct sound of the classroom phone ringing on the other side of the room. He watched curiously as Mrs. Harris walked calmly to answer it. Her eyebrows furrowed as the person on the other end spoke, glancing towards him once before affirming the message with a nod and hanging up.

He knew what was said had rattled her, but she hid it well as she walked towards him. He could feel his heartbeat pick up in his chest, the wall in his mind threatening to tumble down as he met her gaze. “Jacob,” she murmured, her voice unusually soft. “They want to see you in the counseling office, if you want to bring a friend with you, you can if you wish.”

He looked at her, searching her eyes for answers but simultaneously not wanting to know. He ignored Tyler pointing to himself as a volunteer to join him, instead, his eyes followed the same track they had all hour.

Mrs. Harris nodded, gesturing for him to go to the door, while she approached Anna. He focused on his teacher’s movements, purposefully blocking out his thought processes as they tried to run rampant. A sick feeling was rising in his stomach, one that was all too familiar. No, he didn’t know why they called yet. He couldn’t jump to conclusions.

He was staring at the floor when Anna moved to stand at his side, no doubt looking confused and worried about what was happening. He looked up to watch Mrs. Harris scribble out a hall pass on a piece of graphing paper, handing it to him with an attempt at a smile. “If you don’t come back by the end of the hour, I’ll hold onto your things, okay?” She addressed them both.

He nodded while hearing the small agreement from Anna to his left. They set out into the empty halls, footsteps echoing eerily. The science classrooms were near to the offices, yet it felt like an eternity to make the journey.

Who would call him in the first place? Jisuph and Jelare weren’t likely, but who from home would do so at all? His parents didn’t reach out unless his father needed something, but he only called when he was out of school. His mind wandered to his sister like it often did. How long had it been since he spoke to her? It couldn’t be her though, she would most likely rather die than pick up a phone; but who else could it be?

They reached the small secondary door to the office that led to the school counselors, smaller offices. He placed his hall pass on the secretary’s desk, earning a nod to the office to the far left.

He approached the door cautiously, aware that Anna was awkwardly following. His hand hovered for a moment before knocking, his nerves spiking as he was called in. Ms. Carter was sitting with her hands folded on her desk that faced the door, watching them as they moved to sit in the chairs that were pushed into the corner to allow space to walk.

His control was slipping, he could feel it. Ms. Carter’s inner conflict and Anna’s awkward feeling of how she shouldn’t be there. He couldn’t feel bad though, having someone else there distracted from the looming threat of what he was about to hear.

“Jacob,” Ms. Carter started carefully. “I have your sister on the phone, she wants to speak with you…” Her voice droned on, but he was no longer listening.

What did she say that had to be said so urgently? Something had to have happened at home, and that meant… no. He couldn’t think about that, not until he knew for sure.

He didn’t realize he had zoned out until he found Ms. Carter holding out the phone for him to take. He reached out, a buzzing filling his head as he moved it to his ear. “Ria?” He could hear the tension in his voice as he spoke into the line.

“Jacob,” the voice on the other end sent a spike into his heart.

“Adara,” the name of his older sister slipped from his lips before he could stop it. He sat frozen, unsure of what to say. He swallowed, hard. “Adara, what’s going on?”

She was silent for a moment, just the sound of her breathing coming through the phone into his ear. His own breathing was starting to pick up, as she was the last one who would reach out to him, even when he was home. The last time they had seen each other, it was light to say it hadn’t gone well.

“We can’t find mom,” her voice broke off with a shaky breath.

He felt his heart stop. Missing, she was missing. That only meant one thing. “What?” He choked out.

“We’ve looked all over, but it’s been two days now. I need to know if you know anything about this.”

“No,” his voice was barely a whisper. He was barely aware of Anna’s hand hovering just above his shoulder. The mental images flashed behind his burning eyes, his hands tightening, with his nails digging into the palm of his free hand.

Overhead, the bell rang out as it always did, but he couldn’t hear it as blood rushed through his ears. He could barely bring himself to breathe, his thoughts only cycling around the scenarios playing in his head. The memories hit him like daggers as he sat, unmoving.

“Ria’s taking it hard,” she continued, her voice giving away that she was trying to hold back tears as well. “Father is… himself.” Her tone shook with anger at that, almost covering the fact that she had referred to the man as ‘father’ for once. “If you can come home, I’m sure Ria would appreciate it. She doesn’t want to admit it, but I can tell she misses you. We’re going to wait a few more days before the remembrance, just in case, but we aren’t holding much hope here.”

He closed his eyes, a tear escaping its confines to run down his cheek. He let it trail down to fall off his chin, the sound of it hitting his jeans audible in the quiet room. He could feel the two sets of eyes on him, but at this moment, he couldn’t care.

“I don’t know,” he managed.

“Okay,” he could hear the regular bitterness return to her voice. “I don’t know how updated I can keep you, but someone will contact you if you don’t come home.”

“Okay,” he murmured as the second bell rang above.

“Fenfilu,” She muttered before the line went dead, the empty buzz matching the one that filled his head.

He felt the phone slip from his fingertips, the cord catching it on the desk before it hit the floor. He took a deep breath, trying to process what had just happened.

“Are you okay?” Anna’s soft voice shook slightly beside him, hands not quite touching him.

He swallowed, feeling the emotions building up as he tried to come up with an answer. The room was almost spinning around him, pain seeping through his body. The walls seemed to begin moving in towards him; his vision blurred from emotion.

He stood quickly, staggering as he did so. A muttered no left in the air as he turned and fled.

____________________________

Asher gripped the notebook in his hand as he made his way to his next class from the computer lab. The first two hours of the day had been rough, not to mention his failure at talking to Rachel alone again. He was almost thankful that Evan had come to interrupt his embarrassment.

Maybe geography would be better? It was an okay subject for him, even if he preferred math to anything else. He doubted today would be as good as he had hoped, even with finally feeling like he wasn’t about to fall over from whatever virus he had picked up.

He followed the stream of students through the basement hall, he could already see the congestion building where the entrance to the stairs was in front of him. Rachel and Jacob often complained about how tight or slow it was, but he didn’t mind. There was still time to get anywhere in the school in between classes unless one was to stop somewhere along the way. He could honestly say that he had rarely been marked tardy, though only for moments of importance that his teachers hadn’t found to be relevant.

He casually observed the passing faces around him, most that he knew, some that he did. He was looking for one face in particular as he approached the usual place he passed Jacob. He hadn’t had the opportunity to talk with him on Friday, but his friend was acting odd, looking uneasy and anxious, and had zoned out several times during lunch. He hadn’t seen him like that since the first couple of weeks after he had moved to the school. It was more than slightly concerning since he had been engaged and normal until a switch was seemingly flipped.

Was it necessarily his business what was going on? No, but he hadn’t been able to shake the idea from the beginning that Jacob didn’t have someone to support him in the ways that mattered. Asher couldn’t pretend that he didn’t jump to adopting the socially awkward guy as a pseudo-little brother; never mind that he was younger than Jacob. He didn’t know if that’s how Jacob saw it, but that was how he saw it, and that was that.

He noticed him leaning against his locker with one ankle crossing over the other, an action that sent alarm bells through his head. Never, in the six months he had known him, had he done that. It was unheard of during passing time since the hallways were too crazy to just stand in one place and expect to be given enough space for such things. Next, he was staring straight down at his hands, which were gripping each other lightly, not holding anything, not tapping against his leg, or running through his hair. Something was wrong, terribly wrong.

He approached his friend, dodging around other students and groups that were too engaged in conversation to notice where they were walking. He stopped in front of him, watching him expectantly. “What’s wrong?”

Jacob was very still, just his eyes raising to look at him. His unusually bright golden-brown eyes held a darkness to them that Asher wasn’t used to. He could feel his muscles tense, suddenly on high alert, but he forced himself to relax. He had to keep calm to be able to help his friend.

He looked around the hallways, sighing at the continuous flow of students all around them. He shoved the idea of getting to class on time out the window, thankful that Ms. Larson was the most likely to excuse him for a situation like this.

“Come on,” he clapped Jacob on the shoulder, pulling him from the wall of lockers and directing him in the opposite direction that he would have gone to get to class. He led Jacob back to the spare classrooms, choosing a door he knew was usually left unlocked and slipping them both inside.

He flipped the light switch quickly, revealing the multitude of extra desks that were pushed all along the walls, chairs, and more desks piled atop them. Random boxes were strewn across the floor, looking like they hadn’t been touched since the start of the school year.

He turned to face Jacob, the other boy now standing stiffly with his arms crossed over his chest. “If you want to talk,” Asher began, softening his voice. “I’m here to listen.”

Jacob nodded slowly, shifting his feet, and shoving his hands deep into his pockets with a sigh. “You know,” his golden eyes met his blue. “You’re making me feel bad about this.”

“It’s okay,” Asher assured him, continuing to ignore the uneasy feeling trying to rise in his gut.

“It’s not you, you seem like a nice guy but…”

Asher squinted in confusion.

“You’re better off being out of this,” he murmured, pulling his hand out of his pocket with a glint in his gaze.

Asher could just manage to see a flash of bronze before pain exploded across his neck. He tried gasping for breath, but nothing but a wheeze came out. He could feel warm liquid flowing across his skin as he raised a hand to try to touch his throat. He tried to meet Jacob’s eyes as a wave of dizziness overcame him, his feet stumbling for balance.

He felt the effect of the impact of his body hitting the floor, rather than the hit itself. Blinking blurrily up at the looming figure that seemed to fluctuate before him as it leaned down with the bloodstained bronze knife gripped tightly in his hand.

“This isn’t about you.” The breathy murmur was almost lost in the rush of blood in his ears. “Iruir rissallai arer fisua.”

The last thing he saw was the blade plunging towards him once again, his last thought screamed to the heavens.

Why?