The Skylar Experiment : The "X" in Apex

Chapter Twenty-One - The Scar

"So, Homecoming's approaching," she bubbled. "We're going to have to go dress hunting one of these days."

"I wonder how we can make this work, given that I can't really leave my house."

I imagined resorting to online shopping. At least it would be safe and Luc-approved. Not that it mattered. Emma's tiny fist fell onto her desk.

"You're coming with us, and Luc will have to deal with it." She shot a glower at the back of the room where he was sitting, waiting until he noticed our turned heads. He kept talking to the boy at his right, but his eyes had shifted.

I was convinced Emma was trying to produce lasers out of hers.

"Oh? How are you going to achieve that?" I asked, watching with interest.

He put his friend on hold to send us a dignified, totally-not-cranky jerk of the chin, as if to tell us to mind our own business.

Her shoulders slumped. "I'll think of it when I get there. One step at a time."

I rolled my eyes, a little amused, but prepared to be disappointed. I feared he'd only agreed with Dad to ease the tension.

I went swimming during lunchtime, and I remained the last one in the changing room as the few other girls rushed to the cafeteria. I came out of the shower stall, barely paying attention to my steps, still jarred from last weekend.

So jarred, I forgot all about Sam who had pointed out a supposed scar hidden beneath my hair.

In my towel and flip-flops, I moved to the sink closest to the window and leaned over. Turning my head, parting my strands this way and that, I searched for any sign of it.

I didn't know how obvious it looked, what size to expect, and combed meticulously on the first side. It soon became clear there was nothing, so I leaned further into the mirror to check the right side.

I spent more minutes sifting through wet curls, wishing I'd brought clips and pins to help me out. At last, I caught something.

It was very subtle.

Sam must have a finely honed eye, because... because if I've ever noticed a fraction of it in the past, I've never bothered to dig and reveal this C pattern above my ear. A thin, flat line of hairless skin. Darker than the rest of my scalp in the natural light.

I stared at it for long minutes, trying to process the utter mystery of it.

One arm dropped against the sink, and all of my hair chaotically fell over my shoulders. It looked old, but the Wanderer bite already looked old on day two thanks to Luc's power.

What if despite everything he did, I'd still end up dead? Or worse, my father would get killed. It was already bad enough that someone died in the woods and Ben got injured. I went to the bench and grabbed a shirt from my bag, that awful feeling in my gut expanding. I didn't want to have to get used to this.

The room fell gradually silent, even devoid of the sound of closing lockers or shower curtains being pulled aside, and what I mistook earlier for water droplets now echoed as a faint clicking noise.

It was too rare and irregular for it to be a leak.

Sliding the shirt over my head and pulling it down to my waist, I moved slowly toward the noise, which stopped the moment I became aware. I looked around. Nothing out of the norm, yet I had this nagging sensation that I was being watched again.

The noise ceased and I couldn't trace it, but it seemed to come from a cluster of lockers down the hall. Chills ran down my spine. I began approaching it, walking away from my row of benches.

Someone turned the corner and halted abruptly, but we still bumped into each other. I nearly shrieked, my heart pumping. A girl I knew from my English class, Annie, let out a surprised squeak. She dropped her gym bag, her water bottle rolling to the far edge and stopping next to the exit door.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" I blurted, bending down to help her gather her stuff. "You scared me."

She gave a nervous laugh. "So did you! I thought I was completely alone!"

I retrieved the bottle and handed it to her. Thank God, it wasn't Anya. I wasn't ready for some sneaky recruiting conversation that I'd have to politely sit through.

She stuffed it back in her bag and got to her feet. We apologized again, and when she left I returned to my spot to finish dressing up. I was becoming ridiculously paranoid.

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