Run With The Wicked

Chapter 9: Blood Brothers

The above image of sweet Quentin :)

The next few days had done little to keep my mind busy. The school had announced that they were throwing an annual 'choose your future' day. 

This meant that everyone from journalists, doctors and police officers would be arriving at St Tournes to aid us in choosing a career path- as if that was the most important thing.

With the schools sudden reprieve from classes after the clock tower incident, it left plenty of time to plan the only event that would be going ahead. 

Prepping for the careers day was beyond difficult. The events the night before had left me with unfriendly dark moons under my eyes, and despite my makeup, my face was still red and blotchy. 

I couldn't shake the utter guilt I felt, the kind of feeling which made me physically ill every time I thought about it. Reece overreacted somewhat, but what was worse is that I couldn't explain to him the real reason Zeke was in my room. 

It's not like I could blurt out: oh yea Reece well Zeke is a Warlock who can talk to animals and I'm part of a psychotic cult group that's filled with weird ass people with different powers.

So I did what I did best, tried to act like nothing was wrong.

The only thing that I managed to look semi- respectable were my wild curls, which were pulled back into two pigtails just above my collar. That morning I was woken by Quentin's frantic knocking. Id say he was around fifteen seconds from breaking the door down, reluctantly I removed myself from my bed and re-joined humanity.

I gazed at my surroundings. The monumental auditorium was brimming with bodies, some setting up tables, others tapping at their phones in boredom. Quiet pop music wafted through the great hall and two young female students danced to the music.

Quentin was standing aimlessly next to the wooden chair I was standing on, handing me peacock coloured streamers with one hand while sipping at his Dr. Pepper with the other.

 Much to my irritation Skye, Quentin and I had been put on decoration duty for the entire afternoon. I didn't even remember putting my name down, yet again I didn't remember a lot of things lately.

With segments of translucent tape on my fingers, I reached up and attached the curly streamer to the ceiling. I scratched my forehead with the back of my hand.

"So, why are we doing this?" I asked at them both, reaching down for another streamer.

"Because we're the only ones that aren't particularly pissy this morning." Quentin said, a lopsided grin glued to his face.

 I found it profoundly weird that Quentin hadn't brought up anything about Reece or Zeke. Maybe he didn't want to upset me more than I already had been.

I looked down to my left. Skye was sitting cross legged on the floor gluing letters to a large piece of dark blue cardboard. Her long peroxided hair was pulled back into a loose braid, and she hummed a tune quietly to herself. She fiddled with her thick black rimmed glasses that stood on the end of her slender nose.

I had never really talked to Skye before, I'd seen her around with the rest of the group, occasionally hanging around Denae. But it seemed the obvious contrast in their personalities that had me assume that she was good friends with Quentin the most. 

From what I'd gathered Skye was particularly quiet, although her good looks could easily earn her a brownie point with most of the boys here.

Her full pink cheeks complimented her leafy green eyes, even though I knew her single cerulean blue iris was hidden behind a contact. Strands of hair fell around her face as she concentrated on the poster in front of her.