The Test

Nineteen

A week later

Aria

"Hey, Vi," I say, sitting down hard on the bench of our usual table at breakfast, smiling at the sight of Frex's hand in hers, and at the way she smiles at him so lovingly. A now-familiar twist of pain accompanies looking at that smile, when I remember that for a time, however brief, Zach used to look at me like that. But I never really loved him. I know that. It still hurts, though, to know you're not wanted anymore; although I was introduced to that feeling long ago, back when my parents were alive -

No. I put my hands to my temples, hoping I can physically push back the memories that threaten to overwhelm me.

The sound of mom's voice the morning of the Test, my naive assumption that I'd go to school as normal and come back with a long, hot summer stretched ahead of me. Little did I know how wrong I was.

The look on mom and Dad's faces when they told me to pack and get out of their lives forever.

The feeling of being barred from the home I'd lived in all my life, and knowing that I could never come back.

And worse, the feeling of terror and horror as I realised that they were still in the apartment - only not as I'd ever known them.

I let out a little moan of pain, hoping if I ignore them, try to focus on something else, they'll go away.

I know they'll never really go away, not now, not ever; but hopefully just for a little while.

Vi finally looks up from Frex, sheepish. "Sorry. Hi. Morning," she says sleepily, rubbing her eyes, failing to notice the mini-meltdown I'm having, leant down on the table with my head on my arms. I guess it just looks like I'm asleep. It is really early in the morning...

Her eyes flick to behind me, where Luc and Sasha, the redhead who was in his bed the last time I went up to his room, walk past. She asked him out not long after that day, actually, somewhere in the two weeks between my nightmare and Luc's heartbreaking simulation, and they've been going out since then.

Alina and Zach have started going out, too, which surprised no-one, least of all me. I'd seen the way they look at each other and knew it was useless to keep them apart. No wonder he broke up with me.

Everyone's in their little pairs, happy and at least partly content. While I'm wallowing in grief and all alone. Not that I'm bitter or anything. It's just that when you're grieving, you need someone to hold. And no-one's here for me.

I follow Vi's gaze, so I'm already looking at Luc when he turns round to look at me as they go by, and that's more than I can take. The sight of him walking away from me, away from our table. Our friendship.

With her. Towards her.

I stumble out into the courtyard, tears flowing freely even before I slump to the ground. And not just because of the fact that Luc's gone again, but because he isn't the only person who's abandoned me for a better life. I must be really out of it, because I don't hear Luc's footsteps until they've stopped in front of me. "Anya?" He asks gently, peeling my hands away from my tearstained face. "Oh, Anya," he breathes, wiping away the tears with his fingers and gathering me into a hug. "I'm sorry. I've abandoned you all this time, haven't I? Just when you need someone there for you," he says softly, sadly.

"Yeah, while you've been off playing happy families, someone's been grieving," I say, unable to stop the petulant tone creeping into my voice. but trying to laugh it off, despite this really not being a laughing matter.

"I'm sorry," he says softly, rubbing soothing circles across my back, causing my head to fall onto his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Anya." His tone is genuinely remorseful, so I decide to forgive him. But I still look up at him balefully and say: "Yeah, you should be, Montero," but he grins when he sees the ghost of my smile, and leans down to hug me again. "I really am sorry, Anya," he whispers, letting my fresh tears fall onto his shirt. "I know," he says, "that I've been stupid, and ignored you while you needed me. But I'll try to remedy that. I promise. I know you've been getting behind on your training, so if you need any help - likely more than Knox can or will give - I'm here."