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Dusk's Fracture
Chapter 21 ~ Rushing for a Cure

Chapter 21 ~ Rushing for a Cure

For the first time in a while, I was dreading going to Emiarhia every day. It had been more than seventy-two hours since Ashkan was blighted by Ofelia's love potion, and he still wasn't showing any signs of it wearing off. Shaye and I decided to start research of our own. We needed an antidote, and fast – people were starting to get suspicious. We just had to be careful. The last thing I wanted was for Lodestar to hear about it.

After returning from the Academy, I was doing some cleaning in my room at Kadia's house when her telephone rang.

"Hello?" she answered. "Hi, Shaye. Yes, she's here. ...What? Oh, this is about...? Right. Yes, I'll send her over. And I'll go, too. You shouldn't be out on your own."

"What's up with Shaye?" I asked, walking into the living room.

"She's doing some research at the library down the street, and she'd like you to accompany her. It's about the...potion situation."

I nodded. "Then I'll get going."

"I'm right behind you."

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Stomping the snow off my boots, I ducked into the library with my hood pulled low over my face. Shaye spotted us from the back corner and waved. Thankfully, although we were in plain sight, it wasn't that busy, and people usually left us alone with little more than a few seconds of staring. The air was slightly musty with the scent of parchment. It was pleasantly quiet, as to be expected, and a good amount of sunlight poured in through the panelled, dome-shaped glass ceiling. As I made my way through the mini labyrinth of bookcases, I discovered that unfortunately, Shaye wasn't alone. Ashkan was with her.

He jumped to his feet when he saw me and stumbled over, almost tripping in the process. "Brielle! ...Hi. How are you? It's cold outside; are you cold?"

"I'm fine, thanks," I replied, nudging past him. Shaye gave me an apologetic look as I approached. I folded my arms and spoke quietly, "You didn't tell me he was here!"

"I promise this wasn't planned!" she insisted. "He wanted to see you, and he wasn't taking 'no' for an answer..."

I looked around. "Well, at least we're pretty secluded back here. Let's just see what we can find."

So, the three of us got to work with Kadia monitoring us from a distance. Well, it was really just Shaye and me doing the research. Ashkan was too busy being sickly-sweet, although it wasn't his fault.

"Remind me why we can't just buy an antidote?" I questioned.

Shaye responded without taking her eyes off the book she was scanning. "One, neither of us would be able to purchase it for obvious reasons. It would raise far too much suspicion. Two, the antidote expires very quickly. It's extremely difficult to find, thus ruling out the possibility of sending someone else. So, it would most likely be faster to brew it ourselves."

I slumped in my chair. Ashkan reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, all while staring dreamily. I sighed, exasperated. "Okay, this is getting kind of creepy. Could you please look at something else?"

"Um… Like what?"

"Anything besides me."

"But I only want to look at you. It’s so difficult not to," he persisted, resting his chin in his palm. My head then landed on the table with a thud.

"Brielle," Shaye cut in, noticing my discomfort, "I think I've found the recipe we need. But while we're here, why don't you search for some information about the prophecy? I still have to confirm that this antidote is the correct one."

"I can help," Ashkan offered. "I’d be delighted to help a beautiful lady."

I rolled my eyes. "You’re funny."

"I’m honest," he countered.

"Right." I glared at him, then shook my head. "Pass. I need to stretch my legs, anyway." Ready to distance myself from all that artificial affection, I swiftly moved to the history section of the library.

Almost everything there was old and worn. Some texts were locked behind glass, and others were simply scrolls or tomes. Many of the labels were so faded that they were carefully rewritten overtop. I ran my fingers across their spines, unsure of where to start. My ears suddenly tuned in to a conversation happening a few rows over.

Someone sighed loudly. "This is taking forever. Can I please leave?"

"No. You are well aware that Mother wouldn't take kindly to your dismissal of responsibilities." Both voices sounded oddly familiar.

"You do it then."

"We both must."

"Well, I'm taking a break."

I then heard footsteps heading in my direction. Turning my back, I pulled a random book from the shelf before me, pretending to be absorbed in it. Surprisingly, the footsteps grew louder and louder before stopping.

"Miss Brielle? Is that you?"

I glanced over my shoulder casually, only to be met by none other than Prince Zyel.

"Hey! It's good to see you." He grinned and stepped closer.

I could feel my face getting warm. This was awkward, was it not? The last time I'd seen him, he'd kissed my hand and made a big scene that got everyone gossiping.

"Why are you reading, uh..." He squinted at the book I was holding. "...'The Advancement of the Opian Working Class During the 2nd Century'?"

"Oh, just catching up on some history, that's all," I said, returning the book to the shelf.

"Well, if you're going to save the world then I guess you should know what you're doing," he noted with a smile. "Anyway, I just wanted to say hello. Reuvyn's here, too. We're supposed to be doing some reports about the economy here in Nelorismel. Father says it's good practice. I would honestly rather be doing just about anything else; I think I've read so many records and numbers that I'm going to go blind."

I laughed politely. "Sounds fun."

"So, what are you up to? Shouldn't you be hunting down a criminal or something right about now?"

"No, not quite." I leaned against the bookcase. "Just doing some research about our prophecy. Seeing what I can find."

"Anything I can help with?"

"No, that's okay, really. You have your own work to do, I'm sure."

He clasped his hands together. "There must be something, I beg of you. I'm incredibly bored."

Before I could answer, Reuvyn turned the corner, searching for his twin brother. "Oh, good day, Lady De Mavset," he greeted upon noticing me. "Excuse us. Zyel, we must return to our assignments. Come along."

"Actually, I was just assisting Brielle with some research. I'll finish working later," Zyel argued.

"Thanks, but I honestly don't need–" I interjected.

He turned his back to his twin and shot a comically pleading expression my way. It took all of my energy to stifle a giggle. He was actually kind of cute when he wasn't pretending to be some cool, blasé libertine. Maybe I'd judged him too quickly.

Reuvyn sighed heavily. "Zyel, you're being a nuisance." I could tell by the look on his face that he wanted to go back to his boring economics report and was losing patience with his brother.

"I'm helping out a friend! Is that a crime?"

I almost laughed again at the thought. Did he just consider me a friend? The last time we'd met, he kissed my hand basically in front of his parents. That wasn't exactly friendly behaviour.

"No, but I have a feeling this has less to do with research and more to do with a distraction from said research," Reuvyn said, arms folded.

"How dare you. I have always put my responsibilities first." Zyel placed a hand to his heart in faux offense.

"Oh, for the love of..." His brother pinched the bridge of his nose, then turned to me. "Miss Brielle, what sort of assistance might you need?"

"Well..." I pursed my lips. "Don't worry about it if you're busy. But I'm trying to find anything relevant to the Tremaium Prophecy. I'm just not sure where to start. Or what I'm looking for..."

His eyes widened slightly. "Emiarhian history, perhaps?"

I nodded. "Yeah, that sounds right."

"Then I shall offer my assistance as well," he announced, turning sharply on his heel before walking farther into the library. "One hour. That's all we can afford..."

"Oh...! Thank you," I called, bowing my head out of habit.

Zyel was grinning broadly when I looked at him again. "That's my brother for you. Always wanting to help. He's quite serious, and a stickler for schedules, but a major history buff."

"You don't seem to have that problem," I riposted without thinking. I then realized how blunt that sounded and bit my tongue. "Um, no offense..."

He only smiled again. "None taken. Reuvyn does enough for the both of us when it comes to being responsible. But we balance each other out pretty well. I'm always trying to pull him out of his shell a bit. Get him to live a little. And he's always trying to rein me in so I don't get into too much trouble." He laughed. "We make an excellent team."

Within just five minutes, Reuvyn had gathered about a dozen different texts and plopped them down on the table before Zyel, Shaye, Ashkan and me.

"These should provide a good start," he said, taking a seat. "What are you searching for in particular about the prophecy?"

Shaye grabbed a book from the pile and opened it. "Unfortunately, we don't know much yet – and some of the things we do know, we can't talk about."

"We could start with information about the gods," I suggested.

"They're well-documented. I was leaning more toward discovering new details. Besides, we are looking for a man, not a god," she pointed out.

"Right. Then, how about the sceptre? It's fairly common knowledge, I think."

Both twins nodded.

"That old thing? It's locked up in a glass case in the castle's treasury, collecting dust. What do you three have to do with it?" Zyel questioned.

"I'm not sure if we're allowed to say," I replied. "But it's relevant."

"Ooh, mysterious. Then, I'm assuming you can't talk about your life on Earth either, right?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. Why was he curious about that? "No, just because you never know who's listening. Can't be too safe with that."

He leaned forwards, smiling. "That's a shame, it would've been so fascinating to hear about. Although you're already quite interesting."

Somewhat flustered, I turned back to my book. It was clear that his intentions were more about hanging out with me rather than helping with the investigation. At least Ashkan was actually being useful now, even while being under the effects of a love potion – which was a very awkward thing to explain to the princes. Despite the distractions, I managed to buckle down and get to researching.

The first thing that caught my eye was the story the Elders had told us. The very beginnings of Emiarhia's history: the six gods, the Qhuviae, the sceptre, the creation of each realm, and everything surrounding it. It was exactly like they'd said. However, it didn't mention anything about the gemstones being scattered or even anything that sounded especially bad. It was as if that story had been swept under the rug. In any case, Kadia had the parchment with the clues to where the gemstones were hidden, so I couldn't focus on that. I decided to move on to someone I knew was a threat: Balgaur and his Inkbloods. He didn't have raven hair, but I was willing to bet that he was at least loosely involved in the prophecy. Why else would he target us specifically?

There wasn't much information about them, either. The only notable detail was that apparently, the Inkbloods were a very old coterie that had been around for centuries. Sometimes they'd fizzle out for a few decades, but they always came back with a new leader each time – presumably, anyway. I couldn't find a single name.

I turned to Shaye. "Any ideas about who our main target is?"

"My best guess is someone connected to the Inkbloods. Perhaps a commander of sorts," she theorized. "Or someone entirely independent..."

My mind was swirling with potential answers. I circled back to the first king of Winithas, the one who was given the sceptre. There seemed to be some controversy surrounding that. Winithas was the only realm that had a current royal lineage completely separate from the first King and Queen sent down by the gods. The family tree of the original nobility was cut short for some reason.

I slid the book over to Reuvyn, pointing at the open page. "Do you know anything about this?"

He paused to read. "Ah, yes. One of Emiarhia’s most widespread dissensions. There’s always an argument to be had about whether or not my ancestors are truly royalty."

"What happened to the original line?" I asked.

"The first King and Queen only ever had one child," he explained. "A son. And he died before he ever became a father."

"Right!" Zyel piped up. "Yeah, 'The Twisted Prince'."

My eyebrows furrowed. "'Twisted'? What kind of name is that?"

"People say that whenever he was seen in public – which was rare – he was all crumpled and contorted. I think he had joint problems or something."

"The prince was born with a genetic primary immunodeficiency disease," Reuvyn elaborated. "I believe it was a type of complement deficiency if I’m not mistaken. He was an incredibly frail child. Barely lived into his third decade. He had many awful symptoms; a nasty infection was simply the last nail in the coffin."

I looked back at the book. There were plenty of portraits of the first King and Queen, and some of Winithas' various provinces at that time. It was much more difficult to find pictures of the prince. All the ones that I could see were blurry and unfocused as if they were taken hastily – not to mention they were in sepia tones. There was one painting of him with his parents when he was only a baby swaddled in sumptuous fabrics. He looked normal to me, but perhaps he was painted to appear healthier than he actually was.

"I don’t reckon they liked him very much," Zyel added. "Poor tot. It’s sad, really."

"Do you think this could be pertinent?" I asked Shaye.

She shrugged. "It’s quite possible that our target has a sort of vendetta against the current Winithinian bloodline. There’s no saying for certain."

"You might be on to something... I mean, Earth definitely has a history of people starting fights over the basis of heritage purity. Let’s keep this in mind, just in case."

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After some more research, Shaye decided that it was time to make the antidote. We said our goodbyes to the princes and Kadia escorted the three of us outside. We made our way to Thorne’s house, which was close by.

"Why are we going to see Thorne?" I questioned, pulling my hood up.

"Before he became a soldier, he studied potion-brewing," Kadia answered. "If there’s anything to know about that, he’ll know it."

Upon entering Thorne’s modest lodge, I was greeted by all sorts of delicious scents.

He turned around from where he was standing in the kitchen. His eyes landed on Kadia first. "Oh, hello, love. What’s going on?" He then noticed Shaye, Ashkan and me. "Ah, you’ve brought company. Do I need to be worried? Should I grab my dagger?"

"At ease, lieutenant," Kadia chuckled. "The girls need your help with an antidote."

"It smells amazing in here," I commented. "I didn’t know potions could smell so good."

Thorne smiled, wiping his hands on his apron. "They don’t. That’s my lunch you’re smelling."

Shaye and I walked over to the kitchen. There was a pot of stew bubbling on the stove with some ingredients strewn about on the counter.

I leaned over the pot and sniffed. "Well, then I didn’t know you could cook."

"And I didn’t know you guys were coming over," Thorne replied. "I’ve been cooking for years. Here, I’ll fix you all up a bowl. I’m trying out some new spice combinations."

Within minutes, I was situated at his kitchen table with a bowl of stew in front of me. "I don’t know what you put in here, but it’s amazing," I said between mouthfuls.

Shaye nodded. "The flavours are delightful."

Thorne grinned. "Thank you. So, what is this about an antidote?"

"We need a neutralizer for rosumvius," Shaye explained. "I’m sure Kadia told you about the predicament with…" She jerked her head towards Ashkan.

"Right. No problem! Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve brewed that, although it’s not the easiest."

"I jotted down the recipe," she continued.

He took the note from her and scanned it. "Hm. Looks right. I should have most of these ingredients already. I don’t have wink petals, though. Those are pretty uncommon. And I think I’ll need more sangasvine, too."

"Do you think you can help us?" I asked.

"Of course. The wink petals are going to be the hardest part, though. They’re hard to find, and even if you can get your hands on some, they’re only sold in seeds because their flowers die the day after they bloom. I'll have to grow one from scratch."

Shaye sighed. "How long will this take?"

He tilted his head. "The antidote should be ready in…just under two weeks."

"We’ll take what we can get," I muttered. "Thanks, Thorne. We’ll help in any way we can."

He shook his head. "You guys have got your hands full already. Although, I could use your help peeling some acrifruit for the antidote. It needs to sit out in the sun for a while and then soak in a tonic for days. Might as well get a head start."

While Kadia distracted Ashkan with a chat at the table, Shaye and I followed Thorne to the kitchen. We spent the next thirty minutes peeling fruit and setting it into a large bowl to be puréed later. It wouldn’t have been so bad if the fruit weren’t tiny and covered in jagged, crystalline shards. Shaye and Thorne had clearly done it plenty of times before, but by the time I was done, my hands were practically victims of botched acupuncture. Thorne gave me some leather gloves, but that only made it more difficult to hold the little berries. I ended up leaving Thorne’s house with a few more bandages on my fingers than what I’d entered with. I didn’t care, though. The discomfort I was feeling under Ashkan’s smitten gaze far outweighed that from any measly cut.

Thankfully, though, Thorne did have some spare love potion suppressor in one of his cabinets. By drinking that a few times a day, Ashkan would be able to function more normally. Unfortunately, it didn't eliminate his affection entirely, not to mention that it was sometimes difficult to get him to take the suppressor in the first place.

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A few days later, I walked into the arena for my routine training session. Looking back to where I was at the beginning, the skills I was learning were starting to become more and more effortless. Kadia was also implementing ‘weapons’ more frequently into our regimes – which included wooden poles of varying lengths, simple bows with foam-tipped arrows, and different swords that weighed like the real things but were made of smoothed resin.

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For once, I was having more of a problem with my sparring partner than with utilizing my combat skills.

Reyshore approached me and asked, "How is he doing?"

I folded my arms and glanced at Ashkan. "Not great. He’s refusing to hit me at all. I’ve already tried explaining that it won’t hurt."

"Well, if he is so in ‘love’ with you," he said, making air quotes, "then you’re the best bet at getting through to him. He shan't be like this for much longer. It will be back to normal soon." He gave me a pat on the shoulder and then let me be.

I sighed and returned to my sparring partner, raising my wooden staff. "Okay, let’s keep going."

Ashkan held his fake sword loosely, an unsure expression on his face. "Do we have to?"

"Yes."

"I don’t want to hurt you, though…"

"You won’t."

"But what if I do?"

I facepalmed. "Ashkan, please. We’re just sparring, like always. I know that you’re…not yourself right now, but you still need to work."

He said nothing and just frowned.

"It would make me happy if you did," I added, using the sweetest tone I could muster.

"Fine," he agreed. "But you have to tell me if I hit too hard."

"Deal."

We both assumed our stances and began sparring. Ashkan watched as I blocked and countered his hits. He would rarely strike, and when he did, I barely noticed because it would be the lightest tap ever. I would move in and out of his range while he mostly just stood there. When I would make a feint, he wouldn’t react.

Eventually, I was starting to get frustrated. "Could you at least try to make this challenging? I feel like I’m fighting someone who’s asleep."

"Sorry, I just… I’ve been distracted."

I ran my fingers through my hair. The stomach-turning overflow of contrived endearments was really making me miss the terse, stoic, and largely emotionless Ashkan I was familiar with. "Why don’t you take a break?" I suggested. "And take your suppressor, if you haven't already."

He nodded and hurried over to the benches without another word.

Shaye walked up from behind me, stabbing her sword into the ground and then leaning on the handle. "So bizarre."

"Tell me about it," I replied. "I was really hoping it would’ve worn off by now."

"Ofelia made a very strong batch for him."

"Likely."

"It’s just so awkward," she continued, squinting her eyes. "Two of my dearest friends being romantically involved with one another."

"Well, we’re not–"

"I know, but that’s how everyone else sees it." She scrunched up her face. "I’m not sure how to feel about it, honestly. It’s certainly odd."

I shrugged. "You have Ofelia to thank for that."

"Yes, thank you, Ofelia," she muttered. "Speaking of, what are we going to do about that? Shall we report her to the Headmaster?"

"Should we? That seems kind of harsh."

"But she broke a rule. That alone warrants consequences."

"She’s just a lovesick girl. What if she gets expelled or something? Is it worth ratting her out?"

"I think so, yes."

"I don’t know," I sighed. "Let’s just wait until Ashkan is back to normal. He can decide."

"I suppose that is fair," Shaye huffed.

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That Monday, I was sitting in English class, thinking about the whole antidote situation. The majority of me absolutely hated it, mostly because Ashkan didn’t have control over his actions. I couldn’t imagine what he was truly feeling, or if he had been conscious at all under the potion’s effects. Yet still, I couldn’t ignore that there was also a very tiny part of me that seemed to be…adapting to it? Like I was getting used to his attention. I wasn’t sure why. It was really hard to notice. Maybe it was because the two of us had never really been this close normally. I didn’t like any of the pseudo-romantic stuff, but when he’d simply talk to me at length, it was difficult not to be delighted. But then I had to remind myself that it wasn’t him. He was trapped. I guess we both were, in a way.

Shaking my head, I tuned back in to reality. We’d finally finished reading Macbeth as a class, and we were now forming groups to write a character arc analysis. Naturally, Spencer and I paired up immediately. We then searched the room for more people to join us.

"Chloe, Spencer! Over here!" someone exclaimed. It was Luke’s friend, Gavin, waving us over. I recognized him from the Halloween party.

Spencer and I looked at each other, shrugged, and sat down at his table. Beside him was Luke, and his other friend, Eric.

"You guys are super smart," Gavin said. "And you probably know what you’re doing."

"Yeah, yeah, we’ll do the work for you," Spencer laughed. "No problem."

Luke chuckled, smiling in my direction. "Don’t worry. I’ll help."

I smiled back, then scanned the table. "I think we need one more person."

Barely after the last word left my mouth, Farrah appeared behind Luke. "Did I hear that there’s an opening?" she asked, resting her hand on his shoulder.

Spencer and I exchanged looks of irritation.

"Uh, sure," Luke replied. "You’re welcome to join us."

"Perfect." She proceeded to pull up a chair and wedge herself in beside Luke, nudging Eric aside.

I glanced at the two of them while reading my notes, trying to see if they were acting like a couple. It didn’t really seem like it, but then again, it also didn’t really not seem like it. Regardless, we all started on our assignment. On the big piece of paper in front of us, Spencer drew a simple graph with peaks and valleys to represent the highs and lows of Macbeth’s character development. I stared at my question sheet.

In groups of six, illustrate a timeline of Macbeth’s "fall from grace"; or how he turned from a hero to a villain. On your diagram, make sure to clearly state each event that affected Macbeth and how/why it did so. Consider where his character was headed and how he changed.

Steadily, we fleshed out our diagram and answered the questions.

"He had one of the steepest downfalls I’ve ever read," Spencer said, jotting down some more notes on the timeline. "Who knew that killing a bunch of people would screw up your life?"

"That combined with seeing your best friend’s ghost, a browbeating wife, and some witches with prophecies and shit, it’s a recipe for disaster," Gavin added.

I shook my head. "All that to try to be the King of Scotland. Talk about spiralling."

"I think it was kind of stupid," Farrah piped up. "Like, what happened to him makes sense, but he’s just kind of dumb."

"How so?" Luke questioned, turning to her.

"I mean," she continued, "he got himself killed. If you’re gonna do all that bad stuff, then yeah, you’ll turn into a villain. What goes around, comes around. Did he not know that? Stupid."

Luke shrugged. "I guess that's true."

"It wouldn’t be an interesting story if there was no conflict," Spencer pointed out.

"Yeah," I agreed. "And I don’t think…anybody chooses evil for evil. Nobody just decides to be a villain."

Farrah rolled her eyes. "Well, duh. That's not what I meant."

"They usually don’t know that they’re a villain," Luke chimed in, nodding at me. "Their way seems right to them. What ‘good’ characters see as evil, ‘bad’ characters see as freedom, or happiness, or justice."

"Or they think that’s their only option," I said. "Maybe everyone is telling them they’re a certain way, and they start to believe it themselves. It’s drilled into their head."

He pointed at me. "Exactly."

Spencer looked at me with her eyebrows raised. "Well, damn, do you want to write the rest of this analysis, then?"

I laughed and took the marker from her. "I don't know, I was just saying I think that’s the case here…"

As I kept working, I tried my best to ignore Farrah’s subtle glaring. I didn’t have the foggiest idea as to why she was still being sour. All she wanted was Luke, right? And now, according to her, she had him. So, what was it about me that irritated her so much? We weren’t going to be friends; I was already well aware of that. But why did she feel like this had to be an issue?

Some people are just too complicated.

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By the time I’d reached my locker at the end of the day, I was ready to just go home and relax. But I knew I had classes at the Academy, then training first. It was still too early for the antidote to be finished, so we were all going to have to suffer for a bit longer.

With music blasting through my headphones, I was just cramming a binder into my backpack when I spotted movement to my left.

I turned my head to see Joel walking towards me with one arm slung around Spencer. Upon catching my eye, he grinned widely.

"Hey, Cha-mo-mile!" he exclaimed, exaggerating each syllable. I smirked and slipped off my headphones. He kept going with the bit as he approached me. "Yeah, Chloe. Level-headed, never hostile. So cool, she’d even rock argyle. No time for drama, it ain’t worthwhile…" He paused. "Uh… I ran out of rhymes."

"At least you can shred on guitar," I teased, folding my arms. "So, what’s got you two so chipper?"

"School's over," Spencer said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And on top of that, the boy’s varsity soccer team is having their first game tonight."

My eyebrows rose. "You guys are going to that? Since when do you like sports?"

"I don’t," Spencer replied. "But I do like competition! Call it ‘school spirit’, but I really just want to see the Wildcats get their asses beat."

"And I have some buddies on the team," Joel added, "but, yeah. Would definitely love to see some Wildcat annihilation."

The El Camino High Wildcats had been the archenemies of the Oceanside Pirates for decades. Most people described it as a ‘healthy rivalry’, but when sports were concerned, ‘warlike vendetta’ was probably more fitting. It didn’t matter the sport – football, volleyball, wrestling, tennis – if it was Pirates versus Wildcats, the turnout was unlike any other match. I didn’t always understand the competition against them, but I had to admit, it was usually quite entertaining.

"Want to come with us?" Spencer offered.

"Your boy’s gonna be playing," Joel said with a smile.

"'My boy'?" I echoed.

"Yeah," he continued. "Romeo? Mount Everest? Y’know, Ottinger."

My expression turned incredulous. "Luke plays soccer?"

"You didn’t know?" Spencer questioned.

"You did?"

She tilted her head and shot me a stern look. Oh, that’s right. Spence practically knows everything about everyone. "He’s multifaceted," she laughed.

"Well, you guys can go ahead. I don’t want to be a third wheel," I decided.

Spencer frowned. "Aw, come on. You won’t be!"

We were interrupted by a buzz from Joel’s phone. He fished it out from his pocket. "Ah, I gotta dip. Band practice is starting. I have to get there before T.J. tries to write another country song... But we’ll save a seat for you at the game, Chloe." He gave Spencer a quick peck on the cheek before leaving.

"Seriously though. It’ll be fun! Text me if you change your mind, okay? You can come over to my place first," she said.

"Sure." I smiled, knowing that I most likely wasn't going to change my mind.

"Oh, I think that’s my cue to go," she announced, glancing over my shoulder.

I shifted to see Nathan farther down the hall. My heart fluttered briefly, but I couldn’t tell if it was due to excitement or anxiety.

Spencer patted my arm. "Talk to you later, Chlo."

Reluctantly, I said goodbye before slowly turning around.

"Hey, hey," Nathan greeted, leaning against the locker beside me.

"How’s it going?"

"Not bad," he answered, raking his fingers through his hair. "You busy tonight? We should do something."

"What did you have in mind?"

He thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I dunno."

I paused, then suggested, "Um, there’s a soccer game at seven-thirty. Wanna go?"

"Sweet." He grinned. "I’ll meet you there."

"Be seeing you," I nodded after a beat.

Nathan and I parted ways as I started my walk home. I took out my phone and texted Spencer that there was a change of plans.

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The sun was just barely beginning to set when Spencer and I met up with Joel in the bleachers. Like almost everybody else, we were dressed in dark green, black, and white spirit wear. Some people went crazy with tutus or face paint, but I kept it simple in my Pirates long-sleeved shirt and matching beanie. The bleachers on either side of the field were both pretty full. Across from us, it was a sea of brown and gold – the Wildcats’ colours.

"Where’s Nathan?" Spencer asked from beside me.

"He texted me that he’s running a bit late," I replied.

She scrunched her nose slightly. "Not cute for a first date."

"Is this a date? I didn’t think so."

"That’s between you and him."

I sighed. "I still don’t know how I feel about him. Sometimes I think I like him, but other times, I’m not sure. It’s weird."

Spencer nodded knowingly. "My ex-girlfriend was like that. It always felt like something was off. I kept asking myself, like, 'why are we even together?' I ended things because of that because it didn’t really seem…genuine, I guess. Not that I’m saying that’s the case, obviously. It’s just, I don’t have a lot of intel about him."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Spence," I said flatly.

She shrugged. "Hey, I'm sure it'll be fine. Plus, if it doesn't work out, it's his loss."

Upbeat music played through the outdoor speakers as both soccer teams warmed up and spoke with their coaches. I squinted and searched the field, trying to spot Luke. Eventually, I found him standing on the sidelines with some of his teammates. He was wearing a dark green jersey with '24' printed on the back in large, white font.

"He plays centre forward, by the way," Spencer whispered into my ear.

"What does that mean, again?" I whispered back.

She chuckled. "Hell if I know. But it sounds cool."

About ten minutes later, the game commenced. It was immediately obvious that the Wildcats were fierce competition. However, we were definitely keeping up. Both goalies were awesome, and many players had impressive footwork. I watched as the ball was kicked into the air, then headbutted by another player. The offense from one team would sprint after it, and the defense from the other would try to divert it. Like many sports, it was a lot of back and forth. Every so often, there’d be a minor collision, and one or two players would fall to the ground. The crowd would gasp or groan, but it was never anything serious.

Before I knew it, the first period was over, and the match had entered its half-time break. The score was 1-1. There was still no sign of Nathan. I sent him a couple of texts, but he didn’t answer. I was debating whether or not I should just up and leave when he finally arrived, almost an hour late.

He spotted me in the bleachers and walked up, smiling. "Hi. Sorry I’m late."

"Emphasis on ‘late’," I replied.

"Yeah, I was meeting up with a friend. Lost track of time. But I’m here now, right?"

I frowned. He leaned in and put his arm around me. I looked him in the eye, unable to recall the last time I’d received this much attention from a boy. Was this worth a shot? I decided to go with the flow and not overanalyze everything, as I normally do.

"We’re cool, right?" Nathan asked, squeezing my shoulder.

I nodded. "Yeah. We’re cool."

He gestured to my Pirates beanie. "You a big sports fan?"

I snorted. "Hardly. I'm just here for moral support."

"Aren’t we all." He then smiled, showing off his straight teeth. "Nice hat, though. Very cute."

My stomach did a backflip. I laughed, a little nervously. "Thanks."

We stayed like that for the rest of the game, in silence with the occasional comment from Nathan about a move that was made on the field. It was strange being close to him; his arm felt heavy around me, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Still, the feeling that I got from the physical contact was nice. It was a sensation of comfort and belonging. That hadn't ever been something I managed to grasp for very long.

I watched as both teams chased after the ball. The Pirates were losing 3-1, and there was less than a minute left on the clock. The anticipation in the air was palpable.

The Pirates were back in control of the ball, trying to drive it into the net. Immediately, a Wildcat defender kicked it back, sending it flying. But before the ball touched the ground, one of our own players managed to punt it in midair with an impressive volley. If I had blinked, I would've missed it. The ball soared right into the net and was followed by the referee's whistle.

The crowd roared as the game ended. Even though we still lost 3-2, that last goal was too cool to not cheer about. Amongst the excitement in the bleachers, I stood up and tried to spot who scored. The Oceanside team was practically a mass of limbs as they huddled together and clapped each other on the back. In the centre of the group was the player I was looking for. He turned and followed his teammates off the field, and I was surprised to see the number '24' on his back.

Nathan removed his arm from my shoulder. "I'll be right back. Wait for me in the parking lot?" he asked before walking off.

"Uh… Okay," I answered.

As I made my way from the bleachers to the parking lot, I realized that I felt different than I ever had before. Maybe that's what made Nathan appealing to me. But...subconsciously? He made me feel a new type of way. It was kind of exciting. Is that how you're supposed to feel?

After Spencer and Joel left, I strolled past the school's side entrance, where the Oceanside team was congregated with some other people – including Farrah. I kept my distance, yet still somehow managed to catch Luke's eye. His gaze followed me as I passed. I looked away.

Farther into the parking lot, I saw Nathan standing with a bunch of students I vaguely recognized. A few of them were sitting on the hoods of their cars. Some were smoking something. I quickly stepped up onto the curb and leaned against a nearby tree to avoid appearing like I was staring at them. Obviously, I was too far away to hear anything, but Nathan seemed to be engaging in a casual conversation. They talked for a bit, occasionally laughing before a girl with teal hair stepped forward. She grabbed Nathan's arm, running her hand up and down it and smiling. I couldn’t make out what either of them was saying. This went on for a minute or two before he broke away from the group and started jogging towards me. I pretended to be absorbed in my phone.

"Hey," Nathan spoke up, tapping me on the shoulder.

I looked up. "Hey. Everything good?"

He nodded, then arched an eyebrow, his expression changing. "So, want to get out of here? Head back to my place?"

My answer was cut off by a yawn escaping my lips. It felt like all the built-up fatigue from the past week or so, on Emiarhia and Earth, hit me all at once. "Thanks, but I should probably get to bed. My sleep schedule has been all over the place lately."

"Oh. Okay," he replied, frowning. "Then, I'm gonna go hang with my friends. You can walk home from here, right?"

I stifled another yawn. "Yeah."

Nathan's gaze met mine and I stared back, unsure as to why he wasn't yet gone. A small smile crept onto my face as I felt my cheeks grow steadily warmer. His medium-length hair was messy, but somehow perfectly so, and shared its colouring with his dark brown eyes. He was definitely outwardly attractive, but in a way that was more subtle and less 'stand-out-from-the-crowd'. There was something about him that sparked a curiosity in me. What was he hiding behind that confident grin and hotheaded exterior? I wondered why I cared. I wondered what he was thinking. And I wondered for a good moment why he would possibly be fixated on me.

"It seems like something is amusing you." An almost devilish smirk played across his face, a distinct look of his that I'd seen a few times before.

"No, I, uh…" I faltered for a second or two, "It's nothing."

As if he took that as a challenge, he leaned forwards. It was taking all my concentration to keep my face from burning up. I stood perfectly still, my eyes refusing to waver from his. My heart leapt into my throat. What was this, a staring contest? Nathan was just staring me down, practically daring me to say something. He raised his arm and rested it against the tree, above my head. I couldn't speak. I didn't know if I should. There was so much running through my mind. It felt like time was passing in slow motion. All I could do was watch as he leaned closer.

His free hand found its way into mine, our fingers intertwining. The action caught me off guard and I tilted my head slightly to look down – giving Nathan an opportunity to close the distance between us. He moved his hand to my upper arm, pulling me in. I inhaled sharply at the sudden grip and the next thing I knew, his lips were pressed against mine.

It was the kind of moment that demanded my full attention. For a good three seconds or so, I was frozen. Then, my eyes fluttered closed as I kissed him back. For my first kiss, it was somehow both exactly and not at all like I had imagined it'd be. I didn't really know what to do with my hands, so I just rested them on his shoulders. The whole thing was slow and unexpectedly soft considering his usual demeanour.

And then, just as abruptly as it started, the kiss ended.

Nathan pulled away, the corners of his mouth curling into a smile. "I'll text you later." He chuckled and turned on his heel, walking off.

I could only imagine how flushed my face was. My head was spinning. I felt dazed, like I was drunk or something. I blinked in surprise, eventually managing to nod. What did this mean? Were we dating now? Regardless, I couldn't ignore my feelings any longer. Oh hell, I had a crush.

Shaking myself out of that stupor, I took a deep breath and started my path home. My fingers absentmindedly went to my lips, which tingled ever so slightly. I couldn't stop myself from grinning like an idiot.

Just as I was leaving the school property, the thumping sound of footsteps filled my ears. I whipped around with my hands up, my reflexes prepared to defend myself. Maybe my tired brain forgot that I was on Earth for a second.

"Whoa," Luke exclaimed, his friendly smile vanishing. "Didn't mean to scare you." He had changed out of his soccer uniform and into a hoodie and track pants. His hair was damp, presumably from having showered – since the school stays open later on game days to let their athletes clean up afterwards – and he had a duffle bag slung across his shoulder.

I dropped my guard and sighed. Of course, of all people, it just had to be Luke. "Ah, sorry. Force of habit."

A flash of confusion passed over his face before being dismissed.

I started walking again. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be off with your team?"

"Well, we didn't exactly win," he pointed out, kicking a stray rock into the road.

"It was close, though. There'll be so many more games. You can't win them all. Besides, you scored that killer goal right at the end. That alone is something to be proud of," I replied.

He laughed quietly. "Thanks, Chloe. Hopefully, next time will be different."

I nodded. "So, you're heading home?"

"Gee, how'd you guess that?" he quipped.

"No clue," I chuckled. "Just making sure you weren't waiting to walk me home or anything."

Luke squinted and scoffed amusedly. "I'll walk you. All you have to do is ask."

"Dude. You're full of it," I said, holding back laughter. "That is not what I meant."

"Okay..." he trailed off, shrugging. A comfortable silence settled over us both before he spoke again, "Then, you don't mind if I walk in the same general direction, right?"

I rolled my eyes while pulling an exaggerated, overly annoyed face. "If you must."

Sharing a laugh, we continued on the path to our neighbourhood. The tranquil evening air was certainly not helping me stay awake. I yawned once more and closed my eyes as I walked. The only thing preventing me from drifting off was my brain. It simply wouldn't shut off. My thoughts were proving to be particularly taxing lately, and Nathan certainly wasn't helping with that. No matter how hard I tried, my questions never budged. They just sat there, dying to be answered. But I knew that not every question can be answered. Being in Emiarhia had taught me that well.

Luke's voice suddenly cut through the silence. "Um, where are you going?"

My eyes snapped open as I realized that I'd forgotten to turn right at an intersection and instead kept going straight. I glanced at Luke who was farther up the block. "Whoops," I said, jogging to catch up to him.

"Feeling okay?" he asked with a smile. "You seem a little out of it."

I shook my head. "Just tired."

His eyebrows knitted together in concern, but he didn't say anything more. I searched for something to change the subject. A keychain dangling from his bag caught my eye. It had a miniature cassette tape charm on it made from black metal.

"Nice keychain," I commented, hoping to take my mind off my exhaustion.

"Oh, thanks. Farrah gave it to me for my birthday last year," he explained. "Not normally something I'd buy, but it was sweet of her.

I was still bewildered at how his version of Farrah and mine both inhabited the same body. I didn't even know if they were actually dating, but that probably wasn't my place to ask. The thought of it didn't sit right with me, though. There were already rumours swirling around that they were hooking up, which seemed iffy at best. I decided to assume that there was some attraction present and leave it at that. I was far too tired to care.

Luke and I were mostly silent for the rest of our walk home. We soon parted ways at the street intersection. I quickened my pace as I returned to my house, more than ready to get a long, peaceful night's sleep.

After answering a few miscellaneous texts from friends – and also Nathan – I finally crawled into bed. Knowing that I had monumental and risky events in my near future, I relished every minute of rest that I got. I was pretty much asleep before my head even hit the pillow.