I let out a breath.
I look at the ceiling, and being on the Bottom Floor, it stands 100 stories above me. No matter how much I fight it, Luci always has a way of frightening me. It's frustrating that whenever he even slightly raises his voice, the hair on my neck starts to rise. It's not like it's his fault, though. He doesn't even know when he's going to burst, and the only way he can get over his LCSD is if he has enough strength to fight it himself. There's no cure, no medication. The government doesn't care enough.
I push what I had earlier thought from my mind. Now was not the time to start making assumptions, even if I had nothing against it. I really just need to talk to Grey.
As if reading my mind, Grey rounds the corner and makes his way to the bar. I lean forward in my seat, resting my head in my hands. I feel myself smirking, remembering when he berated us for underage drinking, and him being only 20 himself. I feel as if I'm about to catch him in some dirty act. I watch as he gives the bartender his order, and she hands him a glass in return. When he turns around, his eyes meet mine.
I feel a blush start to peck at my cheeks, and I snap my eyes away quickly, but I'm too late. He finds his way over to me, still clutching his glass.
"Your hair is down today," he says.
I take a hand and run it through my wheat colored brown hair, feeling the sleek curls that bounce back up after I pull them down.
"Oh," I reply, grinning. "Yeah. Before the military, I didn't ever have it up." I peer at him quizzically. "Why'd you notice?"
Grey only smiles back, but I almost imagine some pink flush his own cheeks. "I'm observant."
"I see." I gaze at his drink, questioning him with a raised eyebrow.
"It's a soda," he answers, his tone full of amusement. "Do you think I'm a hypocrite? You can try it if you don't believe me."
I jump from my seat and reach for his glass before his eyes light up in surprise. I bring the clear liquid to my lips before he has the chance to retract his statement, letting the taste of lemon-lime flavor and carbonated bubbles fill my mouth.
"Mm," I hum, handing him back his glass. "That's good."
Grey takes his glass from my hands, peering down at it with an expression almost of curiosity. "Yes, it is." He brings the glass to his own mouth.
"I wanted to ask you for a favor," I say, resting my weight on one leg. "I know I already owe you so much, but-"
"What is it?" he asks, interrupting me.
"It has to do with Luci."
Grey's expression changes from amusement into something harder. "Go on."
"I think he should be transferred."
Grey lets out a sigh, and I know he was expected that statement. "Marcus, do you really think Luci's mentor will allow that?"
"Yes, because she has to. It's medical."
Grey frowns.
"Let me explain," I begin. "When Luci was in high school, he didn't have many friends. He was from Caste 8 and all, so all of the ignorant upper castes kids were afraid of him once they found out." I can't hide the sour note in my words. "Neveah was the only one who wasn't awful to him."
"I don't see how this is relevant," Grey contends.
"In fear of losing his only friendship with Neveah, Luci learned to control his LCSD. It was so that Neveah wouldn't see him as a monster and scare him off, too."
"Are you sure you should be telling me this?" Grey asks. "It seems like their business."
I shake my head. "After Luci left for the military, he lost the only reason he decided to control his LCSD. He didn't see a need to hide it anymore, so he just stopped. That's why it's so uncontrollable now. He let it get out of hand."
"But doesn't Neveah know about his LCSD?"
"Well, he does now," I respond. "When Luci first developed it, Neveah had no idea."
Grey crosses his arms. "So you're saying that if Luci transfers, Neveah will help him control it again?" he asks.
"I know Neveah will do everything he can." I peer up at Grey's face, trying to figure out if I'm convincing him or not. "And since LCSD is a medical problem, and something can be done about it, doesn't it have to be done?"
"Yes, it does," Grey replies, but his eyebrows furrow. "However, while transferring him to my squad may help him, it also puts others in danger."
I feel my shoulders slump, and I give him my own frown. "Like who?"
"Like you," he says, swiveling on his heel to make his way back to the bar. I trail behind him like a lost dog, trying to keep up with him.
"Me? Luci's my friend!"
"He was also your 'friend' the night you first met him, got you drunk, and then turned on you the very next day." He asks the bartender for another drink, then turns to face me again.
"He's even more dangerous left off our squad," I say, my mind frantically trying to come up with other excuses. "At least on our squad, he'll have Neveah, who can help him! Off our squad, he'll have no one there to pull him out of it. He'll have no one who knows what to do!"
"Let's say it doesn't work," Grey argues. "Then what? The moment you say something to set him off, he will come after you. What if you don't have Sutikka there to soak up some of that pain? Luci could've killed you that day."
"This isn't about me," I snap. "This is about helping Luci. He is my friend."
Grey takes a drink before setting his glass down and running a frustrated hand through his hair. "Fine," he breathes. "I'll have a word with Donte to get him transferred." Grey stands to walk away but turns back. "But Marcus? You better make sure this works."
I smile, my body brimming with triumph. "I know it will."
"Tell Luci to pack his bags."
"Already have!" I call back.
Grey pauses. "Were you that confident that you would convince me?"
I shrug. "I don't know, Grey. Were you confident that I wouldn't convince you?"
Grey rolls his eyes and grins at my attitude, probably used to it popping up at random by now. I turn to walk towards the elevator without another word and beam once my back is turned to him.
I push the button to Floor 5 multiple times as the elevator chugs along from floor to floor. Once I'm finally on our floor, I hurry to get Val from Grey's room. I'm surprised to find that Nixon has moved into the closet and that he actually managed to make it cozy. A small, twin-sized bed is against the wall, with a square bedside table fitted next to it. There's a good sized black chair in the corner of the room, and Nixon even has his own pile of clothes. They're smaller than anyone in the military would wear.
Val puts her finger over her lips and nods her head towards Donte, who is sound asleep with his chest rising and falling softly. He's on his back with his right hand resting on his stomach. If he were an older man, he'd probably be snoring. He must be knocked out cold.
I tiptoe over to Val, trying not to let the floors creak under me. "I thought we could train. Grey's busy, and the others are with Ayumi, but I'm sure we could find something to do."
Val's about to respond when the door opens, causing the two of us to freeze. We rush to slam Nixon's door shut, and Val shuffles in front of it and acts as if she's leaning on it. We cast each other a look of confusion when Demi walks in, her navy hair out of its usual ponytail. It cascades to her waist, ending in sleek, soft waves. Her chartreuse eyes seem to spell mischief and she gazes at us for a second before she smiles. "Oh, you're hiding a yukos, aren't you?"
Val and I flinch when Nixon opens the closet door. The concealer on his cheek has come off a bit, and the red of his diamond shows through the makeup. "What's going on?" Nixon murmurs uncertainly, staring at Demi with wide blue eyes. Demi rests her hand under his chin, forcing his face up. She smiles at him.
"Oh, you poor boy. Have they been scaring you?"
Nixon shakes his head.
Demi turns back to us, releasing his chin. "I knew about him."
"How?" I ask, wanting to shove her out the door.
"I figured it out. Grey's not very good at hiding things from me."
"You've been in here before?" I ask sourly.
"Of course I have."
"Really?" Val laughs. "He literally admitted to hating you in front of everyone. Why would he let you, let alone even want you in his room?"
Demi shrugs, smiling. "Grey's frustrating," she starts. "He doesn't really know how he feels."
Now I really want to shove her out the door. I try to push away the many ideas starting to form and swirl around in my head. "I think you're the one that doesn't know how he feels," I hiss. It's bad enough she had seen Nixon, but now we have to make sure she doesn't tell anyone about him.
"I think you should go," Nixon mumbles quietly.
Demi pats him on the head like she would a dog, and I watch his course black hair go down with her hand. "If that's what you want," she says. "But I'll be back. I'd like to have my own word with Grey." She closes the door behind her a little too hard, and Donte sucks in a sharp breath as he snaps his eyes open. All I have the energy to do is to look at him, surprised he wasn't awake sooner.
"What happened?" he mutters groggily, clutching his chest like it hurts.
"Oh, nothing..." Val answers quietly, trailing off. I turn my gaze to her, wondering why she decided not to tell him what happened.
"I don't get it," Nixon whispers bitterly. "Why is she so special?"
"What do you mean, Nixon?" I ask tiredly, too busy worrying about Demi to really care what he was about to say.
"I'm locked at, we're locked out," he continues. "Why does she get to be inside?"
Val stares at the boy. "Nixon?"
I turn to face him as well, staring him directly in the eye as if aiming for a target. "I don't follow you."
"How could you not? It's not fair!" It's the loudest I've ever heard Nixon speak, and it makes me feel like I have to yell in return.
"What's not fair?" I ask, my tone rising.
"I'm a yukos, and I'm being kept inside a closet like I'm some kind of rabid dog," he mutters, and once again, it's the first time I've seen him this upset. "She's one too, but she's free to walk around and do whatever she wants. She even gets to come in here and patronize me!"
"Wait." Val stops him before he can say anything else. "What are you saying? That Demi's a yukos?"
Nixon stares at us with his piercing blue eyes. "You couldn't tell?"
I feel like I'm on a cloud, floating away.
Demitri Holster is a yukos.
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YAY! MRMCAFEE IS FINALLY GIVING US DRAMA AGAIN! Yes, my lovely readers! The ending should not be a shock, but it sure is to Bena. Do you think she believes the word of a 15-year-old boy? Do you think he's lying? How could he tell and the rest couldn't? He is a yukos after all.
Next chapter will definitely have action. I promise. You all deserve it for sticking with me through all these filler chapters. I hope you understand!
ALMOST 2000 reads baby! We're so close! I can't thank you enough! Comment down below with your feedback. Come on, don't be shy. It's okay, I'm not a hater! I really would love to hear what you think about my lil story.
Love yall, <3 -mrmcafee
~edited~