Acumen: Riddling Life

37. Budapest, Hungary

I try to not glance at Adrien, but having that is such a Theodor thing to do. And only Adrien spoke to Theo.

Could it be? Maybe I'm being paranoid or even a pessimist. I chew my bottom lip.

My brother still hasn't talked to me, I would've reached out to him if I was apprised of his work schedule. I contacted Grace two nights ago, sent her a text, and she called me a minute later. Apparently, he was asleep.

Is it possible he didn't talk to me but has spoken to Adrien? He wouldn't drag it that far, right? But he looked crazier than usual in Geneva. I wish I was cognizant of what's happening. But I don't even know if they have each other's phone numbers.

He said he missed his stubborn sister, and now that's what I'm giving him. I will not contact him, no matter what. It's already too much I have to give every detail to Mom or Dad each day.

"Earth to Eleanor!" Arianna's voice snaps me out of my thoughts. I blink a few times, noticing her hand waving in front of my face.

"Sorry," I mutter, looking elsewhere.

"So, what do you think?" she asks, tilting her head.

I shrug, "It could be good," I mean logic wise, it's smart. Their alcohol consumption sure is sky high, going from one bar to the other till dawn. And it might be useful, if either of them is too intoxicated to unlock its door.

"I won't take responsibility," Dylan announces.

"Why am I not surprised," Arianna remarks, shooting a glare to him.

We settle on Dylan having no ones. With Adrien's insistence, he and Arianna have the spares of the other three of us. I've got Arianna's and Adrien's. They seem satisfied with the result.

***

I change into my bathing suit, just in case, and put on shorts and a loose crop top over it. It's not like I'll be swimming or taking off these clothes. The confidence needed to parade in swimsuit does not exist in a single fiber in my body.

I stare at my reflection, pulling down the shorts slightly. Too much skin. I can't wear my usual pants that reach below my knees, it's near the pool and the possibility of water being splashed to it is high. And I hate wet clothes clinging to the skin.

I wish I had prettier legs. Or at least a higher state of confidence.

My skin is too pale, but I'm not planning on dying with cancer, so tanning is always off-limits. Not to mention I already have two grandparents that passed away due to this illness, which puts the entire family in danger of having potential cancer cells. I am not ready to tip them off just yet. My obsession with death does not lead me to fancy putting myself in painful situations. I despise pain. Plus, I saw Grandpa with my own eyes, and it was hell.

With a last tug to the hem of my shorts, I step aside from the mirror.

Slipping my phone and keycard into my pockets, on either side, I head out of my room.

I would have preferred to stay in my suite, but Arianna insisted on getting me down in the swimming pool. The three of them decided to spend the morning relaxing and start going around after lunch.

I enter the elevator and hit the button of the pool's floor, chewing my lip. My heart pounds in my chest.

I've noticed there are good days and bad days. There are days I can look forward to being normal. My description of normalcy, equalizes not having sweaty palms, fidgeting fingers, and other side effects.

The bad days though, forming a solo worded phrase without having all those symptoms in its extreme measures seem impossible.

With a clicking sound, the door slides open, and I tread outside.