I don't know why I want to leave the hallway when he walks into it. I just want to be alone right now, and he's ruining it. "Hey Zoe, may I speak with you?" He asks when he finally gets to me.
"Why do you want to speak to me?"
"Because I care about you."
"You only care about yourself," I say to him, looking away. I know it's not true, but I just want him to leave me alone like he always does.
"Can I prove to you that you're wrong?"
"Can you?"
I hear him laugh, and he walks over sitting where Marcus sat. His hair seems brighter than it usually is. His shirt sleeves are rolled up, showing his bandages, yet it seems like he's been working on something. I hope not, personally I think he should still be resting.
"Zoe, I need to speak with you," he says in a serious tone I'm familiar with him using.
"Whatever you're going to say—"
"You saw him, didn't you?"
I hug my knees into my chest looking down on the floor. I won't make eye contact with him, because I know that if I do, something in me will break. His eyes always have unsettled me, and it's not because of their color or resemblance to fire.
"Zoey," he says my name just above a breath, like an all-knowing sibling I wish I had. Now I don't need his eye contact.
I break anyways.
I bury my eyes into my knees and suddenly I feel his body heat to the right of me, putting his arm around me. "Zoe, are you alright?" He pauses, not sure if he should continue but does anyway, "He didn't—"
"No," I reply quickly, wiping my eyes and finally giving in. I looking at him. "No he didn't hurt me. I just-I don't know anymore."
I lean into him and he lets me. It's strange, but I know he's aware it's what I need right now. "It's alright, don't worry. Did he say anything to hurt you?"
"He said a lot, without saying anything," I say. "Nothing hurtful, I'm just overwhelmed. I finally got rid of the past and then John shows up and I don't know what to do."
"Maybe your past wasn't as far gone as you thought it was." I look at him confused and he smiles, "See, I always thought I was able to bury my past, just like you think you can. Only, it doesn't happen that way. I don't know why it took me so long to realize that, but you helped me figure that out." He sighs, "Maybe your step father reappearing is a good thing."
"How? He wanted to take me away from here. Away from Beast and the others. Away from the place I finally established here and you're saying that's okay?"
"I'm saying, is that such a bad thing?"
I scoff, "He talked about a plan he's currently helping to make."
"What's this plan?" He seems interested, more than he usually would.
"He wouldn't tell me details, but I know it's going to happen. I have a feeling whatever John's involved in, well it's the start of something new."
"Like a reformation?"
"Weird that you'd use the same word he did."
"It's a common word," he says, but I sense hesitation in his voice.
"I guess so, but anyways, I'm thinking about joining them."
"What's their plan?"
"They are going to take over a lot of compounds," I say, falling into a whisper.
"He must really trust you if he told you all of this now," he remarks softly. "Are you really joining?"
"Not until all the good trainers and kids are on board to leave."
"That's not going to happen, Zoe."
"Then we can take our group. Beast, Shawn, Trish, you, and me. We can leave, join John and..."
"And who?"
"He wouldn't say."
"You just trust him?"
"I know I shouldn't but—"
"Give it some time to think, okay? I'll check around, see it there's anything serious going on behind the scenes. Right now, my advice to you is to be unsuspicious right now."
"Why?"
Because you're already a target, he words to me, knowing I would understand. This sends chills down my spine. Already a target? In this compound? Me? I knew others were after me but I thought this compound was better. "Right now I say you should just chill, go see the tournament tonight. Whoever wins will be the ones you are fighting in two days. Try focusing on that."
"It's crazy how unimportant this stupid event has gotten."
"It seems like that, doesn't it." He gets up and says, "Zoe, don't worry. Things will work out." He gives me a comforting smile and walks away. His almost shoulder length, red hair faintly swaying.
"Thank you," I whisper, knowing he probably won't hear it, yet will know I said it.
I remember my first friend.
I was walking into the language building at my Jr. High School, and there she was, holding the door open. I thought it was a nice gesture, but then I saw her hold the same door open the next day. And then the next. Soon she'd been holding the door open every passing period of sixth to seventh for weeks.
One day I was late to my english class because of my math test running late. When I got to the entrance I found her still standing there holding the door open for the straggling students rushing to their classes, not bothering to even notice her.
I went up to her just as she's letting go of frame and I grab the door, holding it open for her. She looked at me and I saw her eyes light up. I'll never forget how blue they seemed that one moment. She smiled and said, "Thank you," she walked in and I followed her.
From then on we were friends. I soon learned her name was Julianna, but Julie for short. She told me she didn't really have any friends, and I seconded that. I mean, no one knew I was a freak, but they still could tell something was wrong. The nearly white hair didn't help that cause. Plus no one wanted to befriend the girl that always had a black eye and a split lip with bruises to spare.
But that's what made Julie different. She soon figured out my home life wasn't the best, and instead of abandoning me, she shared her life with me.
All of which I envied. I understand now how it could be bad, but back then in seventh grade, I envied what she had.
This is how one of our conversations went;
I walked up to Julie, "Hey Julie."
"Hey Zoey," she said in a depressed tone, not even recognizing my split eyebrow I had gotten the night before.
"What's up? Everything okay?"
"Well my dad has been bothering me to get my grades up."
"Oh I know the feeling. My last test I got a C on and John flipped out."
She gave me an odd stare, "You pass every class with no less than an A. How could he be angry at you?"
"I don't know, he's just stubborn that way."
"He sounds like my dad. Get this, my dad cut my allowance last week and only gave me twenty dollars."
"Why'd he cut it?"
She scoffed, "Because I didn't do my chores," she and I laughed a little then she said, "I guess it makes sense though."
Yeah she let her spoiledness show through sometimes, but I knew someone who held a door open everyday couldn't be too bad, right?
Well I was wrong.
It had been two years into our friendship when I finally built up the courage to ask Julie what she thought about the freaks with abilities. The whole topic had be coming up more frequently on the media and embedded in the classroom whispers. I was just curious what my only friend thought about.
She looked at me confused, "Why do you care?"
"I'm just wondering. It seems everyday the police catch more and more of them."
"I think the police are wrong. I mean, sure some are probably dangerous, but others are just trying to live a normal life and they can't because of the genes they were given."
"So you feel bad for them?"
"I feel mixed emotions about them."
I decided that day not to tell her anything. I felt like, for some reason, she didn't really understand what she was saying. Which was modern day heresy. Saying you believed in the freak's cause was saying you believed that they fit in. It was saying that a rattle snake was okay for a child to play with, or saying teenagers can carry guns to school and play Russian Roulette with their friends during lunch. It just wasn't the right thing. It still isn't the right thing.
It was a few weeks later when she brought up the question again, this time asking me about my feelings towards the freaks. I turned to her, and the words just kinda spilled out of my mouth, "I'm one of them." Julie kind of just nodded with me and luckily for her the bell rang.
She never spoke to me again. I get why. I mean you can talk the talk for years, but when it comes to truly believing in what you're saying, most will cower. I don't blame Julie. I think she did have some sympathy for me, considering she never turned me in. That says something right?
Right?
I walk in to the familiar excitement of the arena. Someone in the center seems to have just won because the crowd is screaming and cheering for her. I don't really care though. I just want to sit down. I spot an open area in the top row. Empty of anyone. I smile and walk up there, take the center-ish seat and sigh. The kids on the floor look like ants up here, but I don't mind. I like not seeing something clearly for once.
Suddenly some kids a few rows down burst into laughter. I look at them and one makes eye contact with me then attempts to hush the group but ends up laughing harder. I sink more into my seat, feeling insecure and wanting to leave.
"Oh don't worry about them," I hear someone say as they sit in front of me. "They just like to make fun of the kids that don't look normal."
"None of us are normal," I mumble.
"There'll always be those people that will categorize even if they are just as low on the social pyramid," the kid shrugs, "I refer to them as buddies."
I laugh a little and he turns around and throws out a hand, "The name's Splinter, mon. But you can call me Splint if you want."
"Nice to meet you Splint, I'm—"
"Don't tell me, I got this." He jumps up to the same row I'm in before I can actually shake his hand and sits beside me, "You're the insightful sight that strives to spite."
"You can call me Zoe," I reply with a laugh.
"Zoe it is," he exclaims shaking my now not outstretched hand. I notice he has a slight Caribbean accent. "So why are you sittin' all alone up here?"
"I don't know I was just told to go watch the match."
"By who?"
I'm about to answer but the kids burst out laughing again. I sigh.
"I hope you win."
"Excuse me?"
"They're talking about how your team is gonna lose to the team they're routin' for," Splint explains.
I look at him, "How do you know?"
"I can hear them. Can't you?" He looks over to me and I realize he has his hair in dreadlocks that go down his back and seem to end just about his hip. He smiles, "Are they really botherin' ya?" I open my mouth but don't speak. He laughs and grabs my hand, "Let me take you somewhere better than here."
"But—"
"Just live a little Zoe, ya be surprised at whatcha find."
Splint takes me out of the arena and I follow him down a few hallways. I realize that his hair actually has a green tint to it, making it look all the more cool. As he sways down the hallways his hair does as well.
"Have you ever heard of the Silvers?" He looks back at me and I see that he has a thin jaw line, accented with a little bit of scruff. "Have ya?"
"Oh, no, who are they?"
"They're my group," he smiles and I notice his canines are a little longer than normal. "Ya group's called the Forgotten right?" I nod. "That's awesome, mon. I likea what you did there." He laughs and turns a corner, "No one's forgotten ya though, that's for sure."
"What do you mean?"
"Well ya group wasn't all the big ya know, so when ya started beatin' the good teams we all were happy that one of us underdogs was moving to da top."
"I'm glad someone noticed," I say with a smile. I thought these were just stupid games, I didn't know it actually meant something.
"Here we are," he says, stopping at a door with invisible ink on it.
"Ag, I like it," I say looking at him. The periodic table symbol for silver, Ag.
He smiles looking down to me. He's at least a foot taller than me, but then again most people have a good few inches on me. I notice something else too, he's got yellow eyes. Very faint, but definitely there. He opens the door and says sarcastically, "Prepare to enter madness."
I walk in and see sparks flying on the far side of the room. "Is this a training area?"
"That's what they would call it yeah," Splint walks in behind me and turns on the lights shutting the door. Immediately a chorus of complaints cries out.
"Shut off the light!" "Come on who ruined it?" "My eyes!" I laugh when someone fake hisses.
"Alright guys, calm yaselves, we have a guest!"
I suddenly see two heads pop out from behind corners. One kid jumps from the ceiling rafters and walks right over to me, "Who is it?"
"Maybe if you went out a little more you'd know Bren," A girl's voice scolds.
"Is this Zoey? The Zoey Ram?" The guy, Bren, says as he walks towards me.
"No way!" the girl exclaims. The two start to get into an argument and I take a step back, running into Splint.
"Alright calm down! I know ya all are excited about meetin' Zoe here, but ya gotta consider her. She doesn't like meetin' new people so ya have to tread lightly."
"Or what!" Bren asks.
"She'll beat you like she did with Ulrich!" The girl shouts, making Splint laugh.
"Who are you guys? How come I've never heard of your group?" I ask.
"We are da freaks of da freaks," Splint says. "I know you'd get the feeling."
"How could she? She looks fine," Bren says. I notice he has orange skin along with goggles resting at the base of his blue hair and wires wrapped around his neck loosely.
"Madds, come over here and say hi!" Splint asks.
I see someone stand from the swivel chair in the back and she starts walking over. "Hello, I'm Madds. It's a pleasure to meet you, Zoey."
"I'm Bren, like you care about that though. You're like a big hot shot now, right?"
"She's just like any of us, and I'm pretty sure she'd like to be treated that way," Madds explains. I notice she has a scar on the top of her forehead, and one of her eyes is cloudier than the other. She has short, gray hair that's ruler straight. "You'll have to excuse Bren here, he's a little jealous and is too embarrassed to say so."
"Shut up!" Bren screams, and I hear a sound of sizzling, and when I look to the floor I see drops of acid coming from Bren's clenched fists.
"Let's calm down, Bren," Splint says in his friendliest tone.
Madds scoffs and says, "Take a chill pill man, they just fixed our flooring and you're going to ruin it again."
"I'm not jealous of her. I just don't understand why she would care about us," Bren questions.
"I really am no different," I say.
"Yeah, your group is in the top, what, four? And we got out our first match. We are insignificant lower than you, there's no question there."
"You must be the gadget guy of the group," I say.
"How'd you know?" Bren asks.
"Such an idiot," Madds mumbles.
"She's cranky today, excuse her," Bren says.
"You wanna fight?" She yells.
I feel a tug on my shirt and I look to me left, but I see no one there.
I feel the tug again and look down. There beside me stands a little girl. Eyes as blue and the sky. She lets go of my shirt and starts making hand motions.
"She's saying hello," Splint says softly. I look at him and instantly see his connection with the kid.
I kneel down and wave. I know a little sign language from a book I read when I was younger. I sign "How are you?" to her and her face lights up.
She smiles and signs back something I can't quite identify. Splint laughs, I look at him and he starts signing a sentence to her and she giggles. "She's a sweet girl."
"What's her name?"
Splint says, "She never could tell us, so we named her Mihr."
"Why Mihr?"
"When she first came here that's all she would sign," Splint explains. He signs the sign for 'light' and Mihr nods.
"I knew she wanted to be called Mihr the moment I saw her," Bren says, crossing his arms.
"Oh shut up, you didn't know anything," Madds shouts.
"I know you always criticize others," Bren argues.
Another rock flies at us, hitting him in the back of the head. "Great job predicting that!"
"Madds, please calm down," Splint asks politely. Immediately I see she stops. Mihr signs something and Splint cracks a smile.
"Okay, so let me get this straight," I start. I point at Splint, turning my eyes to see abilities, "So you're a shifter," I look to Madds, not even needing my eyes to know her ability, "Telekinetic," I look at Bren, and within his orange skin I see his ability, "You can manipulate magnetic waves," and finally I look to Mihr. I don't recognize her ability.
"Having trouble?" Madds taunts.
"Yes, I am actually, I don't recognize her ability."
"That's because she created it herself," Splint explains.
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"She can speak every single language in da world, mon," Splint answers, proud for Mihr. "English, Spanish, French, anything you can think of, she understands it."
"That's cool," I say, turning my eyes back to normal. "Why doesn't she speak then?"
Madds sighs lightly, "When you've go so much to say, it's hard to know what you want to say."
Bren nods, "She may understand every language, but when she tries speaking, the words jumble up."
"So she feels it's best to not speak at all," Splint concludes.
I look at Mihr and she smiles. It must be tough to know what you want to say but not be able to say it. I guess every ability has it's pros and cons.
"Well the match should be over pretty soon, is your group waiting for you?" Splint asks.
"What do you mean?"
"Well dinner is right now," he replies.
"Oh that's right," I say, "Yeah I should get going then. It was really nice to meet all of you."
"I'll walk ya out," Splint says.
The other three and I wave back. "I didn't even know this little group existed."
"Most don't, but we don't care. We recognize each other and that's all we need."
"I admire your intentions," I say.
"I admire your retentions," he replies.
"I hope to see you around," I say leaving the room.
"Ya know where to find us, mon. We'll be here waitin' for ya."
"Bye Splint."
"Bye Zoe."