(REWRITING) The Skylar Experiment : Coveting

Chapter Eight - End of Detention

RILEY

THE WORDS SWAM in my head and in front of my eyes.

At some point, Spencer left the room for moving the equipment, but I didn't dare to speak. I didn't know when he'd come back, and I had nothing to say. I stopped to massage my hand, then went back to writing.

I was able to escape and disconnect myself from the detention, thinking while I mechanically scribbled. 

This morning, a glass exploded after pouring some orange juice. I wasn't sure which was more galling—the incident itself or cleaning up. It wasn't as crappy as other days, but this couldn't continue. The manifestations needed to stay in check, or else I'd have to live in one of those sound-proof, bullet-proof, everything-proof confinement rooms.

Luc, against my strongest wishes, was still right. And I still hated that. 

Spencer returned. The clock showed that it's been an hour and a half.

Why was Luc really here? He hadn't explained the true reason Mr. Kennedy gave him detention, and why would he send him on a Friday night of all nights? He was acting so bizarre...

Time didn't speed up, but it passed. The teacher had been generous; he made us stop fifteen minutes before the end. How nice. 

By then, I was dizzy and engrossed on I will not badmouth and disrespect my teacher. I curled my numb fingers, opening and closing them to ease the tension. Across the table, Luc's lower lip twitched as he dropped the pen from his fist. He clustered his papers and the teacher gathered our copies.

When we sauntered out in the parking lot, it was pitch black outside. Cold air blew in my face, biting into my skin, but I welcomed it.

"But really, how did you actually get in detention?" I said, tightening the fit of my jacket around me. "I don't think Mr. Kennedy would—"

Luc approached without caution, practically blocking the view on the school building.

"Stay the fuck away from that man," he warned low, staring behind at the doors.

"What? Wha-What do you mean?"

His jaw flexed, and a cord strained in his neck. He looked angry—actually pissed like I've never seen before. "I didn't know you would be here. At the last period, Greg needed to attend a meeting and we were surrounded by people. He just yelled at me to head to detention because I was insufferable. I'm realizing he had something else in mind." He looked down at me and the cord vanished. "Did you see the tattoo on his right arm?"

"Uh, yeah..."

"The compass with the arrows, that's the mark of the hunter," Luc said.

I didn't understand. The masked number warned me about them, but I didn't see why Mr. Kennedy butted Luc into detention for this.

"Why should I be worried about that? It's... weird that he needs a tattoo for being a hunter, but to each his own, I guess."

"Not that kind of hunter, Sunshine," he replied. He lightly pressed a palm between my shoulders and steered me away from the doors. "They hunt us. They make no distinction between us and Wanderers, and they're attracted whenever there's something suspicious going on somewhere. They appear and stay until they score a kill."

We stopped in front of his car. I gawked overtly, unable to wrap my mind around this.

"You're telling me you guys have to watch out for hunters?"