ADA
I SUCKED IN a sharp breath and adjusted my shirt, which had slipped down to reveal the tattoo. I laughed awkwardly. "Mark? What mark? Mark the maintenance guy?"
Carter shot me a flat look. "Don't insult my intelligence."
"Aw but you make it too easy."
"Shut up Wilson. Why do you have that butterfly?"
I sighed and tucked my knees under my chin, staring dolefully through the windscreen. "I don't suppose you'd believe me if I said it was a coincidence?"
"Do I look that stupid?"
I paused. "Are you looking for an honest answer?"
"Oh for– Wilson! You are so annoying and– wait. You're changing the topic again."
"Did I succeed?" I asked, with a sliver of hope dripping through my tone.
"No."
"Okay." I dragged out the word and bit the inside of my cheek, frantically calculating the possibility of me leaving the conversation with my secrets intact.
The chances nosedived into the negatives, with tiny Ada cells running out in my head screaming 'ABORT MISSION! ABORT MISSION!'
"It's a long way back to England," Carter sang. "I can wait you out, Wilson."
"How about a trade?" I offered. "I give you one secret, and you give me one in return."
I could see the rusty cogs in Carter's slowly judder to life, turning as he thought the idea over. Finally, he shrugged and grinned, blue eyes lighting mischievously. "Fine, I agree!"
The Ada cells whooped and high-fived, but the trepidation remained. I can't tell him too much- no, that's just a one way ticket to the cellars.
"So." I stretched, sighing in relief as my muscles crackled and popped. "I suppose you want to know about the tattoo. Honestly, if I were you, I wouldn't waste one question on that."
"Nice try," Carter scoffed. "Now tell me. How did you get that tattoo?"
Oh you naive buffoon. You're gonna wish you'd listened to me.
"I did a favour for the right person and they took me to a parlour, someone came out with a needle and–"
"Wait, no, don't tell me how you got it."
"But that was your question." I said with a shrug, stifling a laugh as his expression changed from perplexed to annoyed. "I am merely answering your question, Carter."
"What was the favour?"
"No," I shook my head, "it's your turn now. A secret for a secret. What's one incident in your life you're really ashamed about?"
"Okay..." Carter hummed and drummed his fingers against the wheel. "Well, when I was in my second year at the Academy–"
"Wait." I held up a finger. "What exactly is this Academy?"
The brakes screeched.
A horn blasted- a van narrowly swerved–
Someone screamed and cursed our way–
I saw my life flash before my eyes as the car pulled over harshly. I gripped whatever I could, realising that the crappy car had no airbags.
I let out a yelp as the car teetered precariously on the side of the road.
"Carter! What the fuck?" I scream in his ear, my heart beating as fast as a galloping horse on steroids.
"You don't- you don't know what the Academy is?" he whispered, his expression shockingly similar to that of a teenager who found out his best friend didn't know their favourite band.
I huffed and rolled my eyes. Pain flared up in my abdomen near where I got stabbed, but I forced to keep my countenance casual. "Dude, I was brought in by Aliana at nineteen. I don't really know or care about the inner workings of the place."
"But- but it's the Academy!" Carter spluttered.
"So what if I haven't heard of the Academy!" I mocked his tone. "What is it?"
"The-the place where if you work hard, you can get a bright future! It boasts an impressive architectural landscape with a rich and beautiful history–"
"You sound like such an advert."
"I do not!" He huffed, crossing his arms like a petulant child. "To answer your question, the Academy is a place where future Agents and Analysts from all branches of the Agency go to train. Usually, it's only kids who have familial ties to the Agency."
"So what's the point of it?" I asked, giving a one shouldered shrug, pressing my wound gently. "Sounds pretty nepotistic to be honest."
A furious blush rose up his neck and coloured his cheeks and ears. His eyes widened, a vein throbbed dangerously on his forehead. "Nepotistic?"
"Yeah that's what I said."
"The Academy is not nepotistic!"
"Yeah, yeah whatever. It's a pretty lame name as well."
"It is not lame!"
"Relax," I chuckled, raising my palms in surrender. "I'm just kidding. So, you were saying, in your second year..."
"Right, well. So, my friend was really nervous about taking his end of year exam. Like, hyperventilating, anxiety attack, blood pressure through the roof, kind of nervous. His grandmother had passed away and he had no time to prepare for the exam."
"This better be a good secret, Carter."
"I am getting there," he snapped. "So anyways, I made a really stupid decision. I said that I would take the exam for him as my own exam was later in the day."
"What happened then?"
Carter chuckled incredulously and pulled out into the road. "We didn't get caught, surprisingly. He passed with flying colours, and the teachers were so surprised. I remember Emma saying–" he broke off suddenly and briefly squeezed his eyes shut. "Ah, I'm sorry."
A familiar ache ballooned in my chest at the mention of my ex best friend.
Do you understand how irritating it is to respect the person beneath you?
The words carried more sting now that I had time to think about it after the imminent danger had passed. I took that feeling and squeezed it into a tight, small ball and shoved it deep down inside of me, locking it up with the others. That was a problem for another day.
"So, what is the point of the Academy exactly?" My tone was light-hearted and casual.
"Well, the Agency is too esteemed to just pick up any strays from the street- ah." Carter was too eager to change the topic. "But, uh, I guess not all strays are bad." He glanced at me.
A second olive branch extended towards me- a chance to strike a temporary friendship with the irritating Special Agent.
"And I guess the Academy doesn't sound too bad either." I accepted the offering. "I mean, I suppose it's a way to reduce the number of traitors. Which didn't really work out like we hoped, right?"
"I still can't believe Emma would do something like this." Carter shook his head. "I wonder what happened to make her turn sides like this."
"Well when she attacked me and unleashed a whole villain monologue- which, by the way, was way more painful than being punched and stabbed- she was jealous? Apparently she was some sort of prodigy?"
"Yeah, she was pretty amazing."
Was that pride in his tone? I scowled, and averted my gaze to focalise on the blurs of greens and greys speckled with faint blue dots outside. I did not talk to him for the rest of the drive, pretending to be asleep when he prompted me for another secret.
On the plane, Carter and I were separated. He was cast to the back while I stayed at the front, next to an insufferable man who kept trying to convince me to be an investor in his poorly planned business.
Normally, I would have amused myself by entertaining his nonsense, but I was too tired to give anything more than a strained nod. Plus, it served as a fantastic distraction during take-off.
In just over a month, I'd been betrayed, stabbed and nearly went back on my promise.
"Look, I think it would be best if we split up," I said, picking at the dead skin around my cuticles.
"No way!" Cam protested, setting the dish she was washing down on the counter firmly. "We have to stick together!"
"Cammy is right," Zaza said, narrowing her eyes at me. "In what universe would splitting up ever be a good idea?"
I wrung my hands together and chewed my bottom lip, unable to look the others in the eye. "I...got a job. I can pay for a decent- a decent funeral."
"So how does that equal us splitting up?" Zaza scowled, her right knee bouncing up and down. "If you don't want to do this job, I can easily pull some strings and–"
"Is that how you want to repay Izzy?" My voice was quiet and hard. "By making her final resting place a crime?"
A migraine flared through my head and I winced, spots clouded my vision. We tried to not talk about the funeral as much as possible- communicating mainly through open web pages and facial expressions. Neither of us could believe what had happened- least of all Cam.
"No," Cam answered for all of us, her frail body shaking. Her different coloured eyes widened. "But that doesn't–"
"And what if we're found out again?" Zaza pressed on, ignoring Cam's sharp inhale. "What if we get caught–"
"Well that's just a risk we will have to take!" I cut her off, slamming my palms on the rotting wooden desk, I felt it sink slightly under my weight. "Look at how we're living right now! We cannot afford to stay together. And...my new job requires me to keep as few outside contacts as possible."
"So what?" Zaza curled her hands into fists, her nails forming tiny crescents on her palms, "We just accept that you get this, this fancy schmancy job- which sounds so suspicious- and we never contact each other again?"
"No, we should still remain in touch, but it would be a good idea to lay low," I answered. "What happened to Izzy...we all should make sure that it will never happen again."
"I will agree on one condition," Cam whispered, averting my gaze to her calloused and cracked hands. "In exchange for staying low, we must promise that this will not remain permanent. Neither of us can disappear forever."
"I promise," I whispered- the first lie of many.
"Miss?" A hand lay on my arm and curled over in a loose grip. "I think you could really–"
"Don't touch me." I pulled away from Business Guy's grasp, my heart thundered frantically, echoing in my ears, and a dull ache formed in my chest.
A sensation of a thousand bugs crawling erupted across my body, making me shudder in reply, I leaned away and rubbed the area he touched. Fortunately, he backed off and slunk into the world of electronics, barely giving me more than a cautious glance.
Unease sunk its claws into me as I realised how cramped the space was. Thankfully, I'd requested an aisle seat, so I was given the luxury of a little legroom.
But this was such a poorly funded flight that no conversation was kept private. In a short time, I'd gathered enough gossip to grow bored and started my own tabloid.
"Hey, Wilson."
I looked over and tilted my head in confusion. "Carter? What're you doing here?"
"I need to tell you something. I managed to convince the air hostess to let us talk in the back of the plane."
**************
Early update as I won't be updating tomorrow!
I hope you guys liked it!
Stay safe and thanks for reading :)