Tightrope

Witchcraft

I made another faint noise of protest that he ignored. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest and his racing heartbeat. It was not a situation I'd ever imagined myself in. Shock rendered me immobile. I just stood there, unmoving, as Hartley hugged me.

After a moment that could've been a few seconds, but felt like years, Hartley pulled away and tweaked my nose affectionately. My arms hung limply at my sides. Tweaked my nose!

"I'm really unhappy that you're back," he said, a sheepish, lopsided smile still on his face.  "I did not miss you at all. Best few months ever. In fact, I could break your other leg, if you want, to get you to leave me alone again."

His words were typical; rude, slightly cruel, a little bit violent. But his tone, his smile; it was as if his words were a joke. If they were, it was one that I clearly wasn't in on. What the hell was going on?

I looked to Kaelin, Alex and Daria for confirmation that I wasn't going completely insane. All three of them were giggling like fifth graders at my obvious confusion and discomfort. Kaelin was snorting with laughter.

"You look like he just peed in your cereal," Kaelin commented, sobering up from her laughter for a moment, before noting my aghast gape and dissolving into another fit of giggles.

"I don't know which is worse!" I exclaimed, shoving Hartley away from me.

He stumbled slightly, but didn't take a step back. He was still standing so close to me, the tips of his fingers were brushing my leg. I didn't think Hartley had ever touched me before, and it was an action I prayed we never repeated. But he didn't move his hand.

Alex frowned, as if contemplating this for a moment. "I feel like it's definitely the pee. Like, that's super gross."

JJace nodded in agreement. Why was he even still here? "I'm an amazing hugger. I have never peed in someone's cereal before, so I can't speak for my abilities on that front."

I opened my mouth to refute his claim. Amazing hugger? What he'd just done to me was glorified suffocation.

But Daria was already speaking, her nose scrunched. "You guys are disgusting. I hate everything about this conversation."

Jace shrugged.

"But seriously, what the hell was that?" I demanded, poking my finger at his face. I think it lacked the intimidation factor because of the crutches, and the fact that I lost my balance slightly as my hand lost its grip on the crutches. Jace certainly looked amused. "What is wrong with you? Did someone drop you on your head again?"

"Concussion?" he suggested. "Heat stroke?"

"It's fifteen degrees."

A superior expression crossed Jace's face, pure arrogance. The weirdly sweet and affectionate smile was gone. I didn't know if I was relieved or not. This was my Jace, the one I knew and hated. I could handle my Jace; in fact, I'd beaten that Jace in every prank war and argument since we were four. "Maybe I'm just a bigger person than you." Jace said. I scoffed. He added, "Besides, I can't be mean to you while you're injured. You wouldn't be able to keep up."

I growled. Like, actually growled. "I am perfectly capable of keeping up."

In the corner of my eye, I saw Kaelin, Alex and Daria looking between the two of us as if watching a tennis match.

"Are you?" Jace asked, sounding doubtful. "You're barely able to keep up when you're not injured. I'd hate to hinder your recovery by insulting you. I've heard that a bad attitude can affect the healing process, and your attitude is already bad enough."

"Oh, is it?" I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jace examined me from head to toe, his eyes halting for a moment on my injured leg in a languid perusal that made me want to punch him. I didn't say anything, instead staring him down. A feeling of burning hatred rose in my chest, along with the overwhelming urge to hit him. It was an urge I'd never succumbed to—I was a non-violent person—but I daydreamed about it often. I didn't think it was fair to be violent; Hartley could hardly compete, given he was, like, a pacifist with enough basic decency to refuse to hit women. I only liked starting games we could both play.

Daria rolled her eyes. "Okay, kids, let's play nice. I'm going to help Lena get to class."

I tilted my head, examining Daria's lithe but small frame. She was tiny; narrow shoulders, delicate features, slender waist. She'd always been the cutest little thing. "I don't feel like you could carry me either."

Jace began to put up his hand, but I shot him a withering glare. He slowly lowered his arm. I would crawl up these stairs before I let Hartley carry me. Mostly because he'd drop me on my ass.

At least, pre-alien Jace would. I knew nothing about this new version of the boy I hated. The old one was rude. The new one seemed to be confused. Flip-flopping between the arrogant wanker I knew and this strangely sweet guy that made me uncomfortable on so many levels. In some ways, I preferred the asshole version. He was predictable.

I still hated his face.

"Do you think we could wheelbarrow you up?" Alex asked.

"Where are you getting a wheelbarrow from?" said Daria.

Alex shook his head. "No, I mean that thing we used to do in P.E. Where someone holds her legs and she goes up the stairs on her hands. You know, wheelbarrow."

Daria looked dubiously optimistic. Jace was looking at me again with a subtle smile. I made a face at him when I noticed his eyes on me. He averted his gaze.

Kaelin clapped. "Oh my god, this is going to go terribly. Let's do it."

After a tedious twenty minutes that involved Alex getting kicked in the face—accidentally—by my stray foot and Jace getting kicked in the stomach—not so accidentally—when he tried wheelbarrow me faster, I was exhausted. Not only was I exhausted, I was only halfway up. Mostly because my team of helpers was pathetic, but partially due to my lack of core strength.

I silently vowed to do at least three sit-ups tonight.

"I say we roll her up the stairs," Jace suggested. "Like a burrito."

Kaelin sighed wistfully. "I want a burrito."

And I wanted my leg to heal. Not only did this futile exercise suck on a multitude of levels; it reminded me of how weak my body was, how easy it had crumpled beneath the weight of the car as searing pain shot through my body and the acrid smell of smoke and metal filled my nostrils... but, you know, mostly the sucky wheelbarrow thing.

At that precise moment, my English teacher, Mr. Prendler, sauntered up the steps, obviously as late to class as we were. He raised an eyebrow at us; me, sprawled across the concrete steps; Kaelin and Alex, being entirely unhelpful and mostly just laughing at me; Daria, who was looking concerned and just trying her best and Jace, being a general waste of air.

"Hey, kids," he said. "What's happening here?"

"Oh, you know," Jace said. "Just... transporting a friend."

"We're not friends," I chimed in.

Mr. Prendler laughed. Our feud was infamous even amongst the teachers. Jace didn't respond.

"The whole process is going terribly," Kaelin supplied.

"You do know that the school has a back door entrance for wheelchair access?" Mr. Prendler asked, looking amused but also slightly startled at our apparent stupidity. "It is required in most places to have disability friendly walkways."

So, we were not smart. That's fun.

I smiled graciously at Mr. Prendler, who was the most useful person I'd ever met. "Thank you, Prendler."

He grinned. "Sure thing, Lena. Welcome back. I'll see you in English." As he turned to continue up the steps, he called over his shoulder, "I'm sure you can try the burrito thing to get her back down to the bottom."

I glanced at the painful steps below me. "Fuck."