Evil Maybe

Chapter 15- Max

In my dream, I was riding a dragon. It was a majestic creature, with mostly obsidian scales and an occasional pearly white one. The dragon’s eyes gleamed yellow, like a full moon, and each of its razor-thin, but powerful, wings were easily as long as a bus. The dragon’s back, where I was perched, was sleek but rigid enough that I couldn’t slip off. The flight of the dragon was smooth, but something told me that where we were headed would not be nearly as pleasant as the ride. Occasionally, the dragon would snap its jaws at seemingly thin air, baring its polished white teeth.

It made me wonder if what I wasn’t seeing could hurt me.

After a few more minutes above the clouds, we touched down on a small, sandy island surrounded by water as far as the eye can see. I slid smoothly off the dragon’s back and onto the sand, which immediately sank into my shoes. I turned in a circle, surveying my surroundings. I faced the inwards of the island and saw a small clump of trees. I don’t know how else to explain it, but I felt drawn to the foliage and strode towards it.

Branches slapped all over my body as I weaved through the trees. It seemed to get darker the farther I moved in, but I continued all the same. I was starting to get unnerved when I finally stumbled out of the trees into a small hollow.

I was standing in a perfect circle of sand surrounded by trees. The sand didn’t sink where I stepped, but instead remained perfectly flat, as if I was stepping on concrete. In the middle of the circle was a small, thatched hovel. It appeared to be falling apart, like the slightest wind could knock it over. Curious, I crept towards the hut. I opened the door carefully and stepped inside.

I was taken aback.

The interior of the dwelling was enormous, not at all like the hovel I had entered. The walls were a smooth, polished stone. The ceiling of the hut was at least 50 feet above me and arched, with impeccably carved decorative beams. A few torches flickered dimly and cast a large shadow of my silhouette on the stone walls. Something felt wrong about me being here, like there was something I wasn’t supposed to see, so I turned back to look for the exit.

The door was gone. I should be panicking, but instead I feel a strange sense of calm. There was a hallway at the end of the massive room. It was as dark as the room I was in was well-lit, and very narrow. But, being the only possible exit, I headed towards it.

My steps echoed loudly in the corridor. The darkness seemed to consume everything around me. A cold sweat dripped down my face. As I walked along, the passageway I was travelling down seemed to get narrower and narrower. I held out my arms and let my fingertips graze the walls. Yes, the hallway was definitely getting tighter. Soon, my hands could not be held out anymore and only my arms were pressed against the walls. They were damp and they scratched the bare parts of my arms.

I walked for what felt like hours, days, weeks, until the hallway finally emptied out into a small room, completely empty except for two doors opposite from where I stumbled in. Each had a small grate to look through near the top of the door, but neither had doorknobs.

The one on the left was steely gray, with the texture of iron, and covered in electrical wires and boxes. Parts of the door glowed, swirled, and writhed an electric blue and a slight hum came off of it.

The door on the right was black as night, like the dragon I’d rode to this godforsaken place on. It was covered in silver vines that seemed to glow. They crisscrossed over the entirety of the door, like a gardener had forgotten to trim them for the last five years. Although, I thought to myself stupidly, if a gardener “forgets” to trim the vines for five years, he probably hasn’treally forgotten.

I realized this was beside the point and shook my head, almost to clear the thought from my mind. I went to take a step forwards, but caught myself. Slowly, I turned. Sure enough the horrible, claustrophobic passageway from where I had entered was gone.

Sighing, I turned and headed towards the left door. I walked slowly, like if I went too fast, the door would fall and crumble to dust.

I put my hand out to touch the workings of the door, fascinated with it and and eager to figure it out. I decided before I did anything with it, I needed to see what was inside so I didn’t break or explode anything. I peered through the grated slit in the door.

When my eyes met what was on the other side, I screamed. Or at least I tried to. My cries caught in my throat. Shakily, I got up and looked again, positive I wasn’t seeing right.

No. My eyes did not deceive me.

On the other side of the door was Ree, bound to a chair and gagged.

She was crying, and screaming, and writhing. It was horrible, and it broke my heart. I wanted to smash the door, to get to her and stop this madness, but I knew I could never break through.

Then the shadows moved. Ree got a fervent look in her eyes and went limp. A man in black robes revealed himself and unsheathed a long, gleaming blade with a leather bound hilt. He stalked around her in circles, like a vulture tracking its prey. He kept walking until his face was visible in the dim light. Again, I was appalled at what I saw.

Norman.

He smiled viciously. His mouth moved like he was laughing, but I couldn’t hear anything through the door. His smile didn’t fade as he lifted the blade to Ree’s face and pressed the tip to her forehead. Ree grimaced in anguish and I could almost hear her whimper.

Slowly, to further her agony, he dragged the blade from her temple to her chin and finally flicked it off her face. Her face contorted in pain and a tear, mingled with blood, fell from her jaw. It left a small, red spot on the floor.

To me, it was like she was left to bleed out and die.

A small smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth and he lifted the blade once again. Norman held the flat of the blade to the opposite side of her face and dragged it down to her chin once again. The blood that had once covered the knife was now slathered on her face. Her mouth opened in horror and I saw her say something to my brother defiantly. He simply laughed again and left the room in a swish of robes.

I slid to the floor and held my knees. The harrowing look in her eyes- it was like being beat up, ran over by a truck, and poisoned all at the same time. My vision blurred. I hurriedly wiped my eyes and let out a breath.

But then I looked to my left. And I saw the other door.

I walked over and looked inside.

My mother. In the same scene Ree was in.

But this time, the man who held the blade was my father.

My heart fell into my stomach and my throat caught. The ground rushed up to meet me suddenly and I lay on the floor in a crumpled heap. My family, torturing...

...my family.

Suddenly, there was screeching, and screaming, and howling, and I was screaming too, and the room spun, and my arms burned, and I couldn’t see clearly, and the world went black.

I woke up to the phone ringing and my heart thrumming in my ears.

I ran my hands over my shaking form, to see if it was real, if I was real.

There were scratches all over my arms.

A few groggy, horrid hours later and I had mostly managed to cover up the scratches and look half-decent. I couldn’t shake the nightmare, though, and it loomed over my head like a black cloud.

My father had informed us that the phone call, which had happened at three in the morning, was to inform each apartment that, for government reasons, they needed everyone- men, women, children, and infants alike- that they needed to report to the Training Sector in one hour sharply. Of course we obeyed, like mindless pack rats.

The entirety of E.V.I.L was packed into a small room and had been this way for a half-hour or so now. Adults were getting anxious and children were fidgety. Norman stood next to me. He kept rubbing his eyes irritably and attempting to shape his hair into something.

I kept bobbing up and down on my toes, trying to spot Lucy’s wild ginger head through the crowd, but she was nowhere to be seen.

My father slapped me on the arm. “For God’s sake, boy, stop hopping up and down. You look like a fool.” I stopped, but I made a big show of recoiling and stepping a few feet away so people would glare at him. We may be evil, but we are decent. Towards each other, at least.

Suddenly, the chatter died. I looked up. Before us stood Mistress Nadia and Master Angus. They looked down at us from the small balcony in the wall.

The Everton twins had been the principals of the school and the leaders of E.V.I.L for decades. My father has led beside them for just as long with his position as chairman in command, kind of like a vice president. The twins knew of the things that happened in our house, so they made sure to take care of me and check up on me frequently. They treated me like a son more than my father ever did (or could).

Today, as always, the pair coordinated. Mistress Nadia wore a black off-the-shoulder top and a white pencil skirt (Mind you, I only knew what these were called because I lived with two other girls for a large portion of my life). On her feet were black and white heels with a killer point, and around her neck was a semicircle of black sapphire on a chain. She also wore a smartwatch and several rings, and held a white marble clutch in the hand that was not holding her sibling’s.

Master Angus wore a sharp, contemporary suit with shiny, black, leather derbies and his round glasses perched wisely on the tip of his nose. He too wore a smartwatch, probably to communicate with Nadia.

It was clear they weren’t going to start speaking anytime soon, so conversation struck up again. The two looked out over us and met eyes with almost everyone. The person would then give a respectful nod of their head and keep their eyes on the ground until one of the twins looked away. I kept my head up and bored holes into the back of Nadia’s head. She must have felt my gaze because she caught my eye and beamed at me. She placed her hand on Angus’s shoulder and pointed to me. Angus grinned broadly. I knew I didn’t have to bow like the others did, but I put two fingers to my forehead and casually saluted them. Nadia chuckled and Angus saluted back.

I guess seeing me in the crowd was what they’d been waiting for, because they both brusquely lifted their right hands for silence. The crowd silenced.

Angus began. “Thank you for gathering here at such an early hour and for your patience. As you may or may not know, we have declared a head-on war with the THINK scum.”

I cringed.

Nadia continued for him. “We have called you all he-“

Shouts rang out from the crowd. People booed and whistled. One even cried, “Get out of here! You have no right to speak among us!” Roars of approval echoed in the hall.

I had expected this. Nadia was hated in the community for many reasons. For one, she was a woman. Men had led E.V.I.L for generations. They also didn’t like the idea of two leaders in general. Controversy could occur, there could be a fight between the two, we could be divided. Could, could, could. A stupid word, in my opinion.

Nadia squeezed her eyes shut and pursed her lips. She c****d her head slightly to the side. Angus looked at her with concern and put a hand on her back, but she held out a hand, stopping him mid-motion. Her expression relaxed and she took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, her gaze was cold and hard as ice- and pointed in the direction of the offender.

In a booming voice that could make the bravest hero’s knees buckle, she called out to the offender. “I do hope you understand that I could have you killed.” Her voice flared with her temper.

“You have no right to speak to your leader in such a manner. I could and would snap your neck with my bare hands but, to your tremendous luck and my misfortune, you’re down there and I’m up here. There’s a reason I am on this pedestal and not you. Know that the next time you attempt to insult the one who holds your life in their hands.”

The offender stood their ground but the blazing fear and newfound respect in his eyes was clear as he bowed his head.

Nadia kept going. Nobody would shout at her this time around, that was for sure.

“As I was saying, we have called you all here because we need to assign you positions in the war. Everyone- men, women, children. Everyone will have a place in this war, regardless if you have a power or not.”

I was shocked. Men and women I accepted, but children? And those of us without powers? It hit me like a ton of bricks. That would mean...

I had to fight.

Angus finished explaining. “Today will be a training day. You will learn your skills and assets. You will be taught how to harness and utilize your powers, and if you lack one, you will learn to fight properly. Your stations will be given at the door. Disband!”

Everyone headed towards the doors in all corners of the room, but I remained in one spot, knowing I would have further directions. Angus caught my eye and nodded his head towards the back right door. I turned on my heel and headed to the back, but not before Norman could grab me by the shoulders and spin me once again.

He put his forehead level to mine and looked me in the eyes with a hard stare. “No. Mercy. Demolish all who stand in your way.”

He turned me again and pushed me towards the door.

A few minutes of hassle later and I was in Corridor 3 with about six dozen other people. I was getting pushed around in between all the other bigger and stronger people. I thought I was going to drown in all the people around me when the crowd suddenly parted. Mistress Nadia and Master Angus strode forwards and fell into step on either side of me, Angus on my right and Nadia on my left. They each placed a hand on my shoulder.

“How are you, Maxy?” Nadia asked endearingly. She was the only one I allowed to call me “Maxy” anymore, since that was my mother’s nickname for me. Still, I reminded myself that this was the same woman who just threatened to snap someone’s neck just a little while earlier.

“How’s everything?” Angus copied, clapping me on the shoulder. I grinned up at them and told them I was fine. I really, really wasn’t, but I didn’t want to say anything about the belting. And telling them about Ree would be suicide.

“We just want you to know that if you need anything, we’ve got your back,” Nadia whispered.

“Anything,” Angus echoed. Sometimes, I thought, even though Angus was older by 4 minutes, Nadia assumed more control in the pair.

The twins ignored the stares and jeers of the kids around us, calling them my parents, laughing at us in general, the usual. One boy even stuck out a leg and kicked me, but Angus whirled and shoved him along, threatening detention. The kid moved along after that, whining like a wounded animal.

They traveled with me until my stop, still with their hands clasped on my shoulders, until we were within five feet of the door. Nadia bent down and rubbed her thumb across my cheek a few times. She leaned to me and whispered, “Good luck,” before dashing off. Angus clapped me on the shoulder (again- it was starting to hurt) before following his sister.

I looked at the door in front of me. Not as fear-instilling as the doors from my nightmare, but daunting anyways. It was the gym, my least favorite place in the school, though the cafeteria was a close second. Many gallons of sweat and dignity were lost here. Sighing, I pulled the doors open and stepped inside.

A rush of warm air slapped me in the face. The gymnasium was filled with around thirty other students, mostly male, in tight-fitting, breathable clothing. I looked down at my long athletic pants and plain t-shirt and realized they would have to do. There was no adult supervision in the room, just me and the other kids. I walked in standing as tall as I could... then straight to the back of the room.

I felt obvious and awkward standing back there in the corner, staring at all the others while they were actually preparing, so I took Angus’s advice and began to stretch. I put my right toe on the wall and leaned back.

I put my left toe on the wall and leaned back. I crossed my legs and touched my toes. I crossed my legs the other way and touched my toes. I spread my legs and held my right foot. Then my left, then in the middle, then right again. Then I realized I looked ridiculous. I hovered in the corner once again and this time I stayed there until, mercifully, two men clothed entirely in black entered the room.

Or maybe not mercifully.

As soon as they walked in, all the students stopped whatever they were doing and came to attention. The men radiated power and demanded that all eyes be on them.

And they were. Everyone in the room had their eyes glued to the men, including mine. I realized I literally couldn’t look away.

Mind controllers. Of course.

They smirked at each other, like this was a game they played with their peers often. They communicated without speaking. I could see their facial expressions changing, twisting and smiling, eyebrows arching. That was a perk of mind controllers- they could get inside each other’s heads without hurting the other. If they did it to someone without that power, you would feel an excruciating pain as they ripped themselves from your head, especially if they started talking to you in your mind alone. Mind controllers would do this often, just for fun, just to see the horrifying look on your face as they ripped themselves away from your soul. The dirty, no-good, cheap little-

The world around me turned a deep navy and the people disappeared. Tsk, tsk tsk, a deep voice murmured, reverberating through my skull. That’s no way to think.

Crap. They’d gotten in my head.

A shriller, but still deep voice laughed, mocking me. Listen, Tomas. The boy is scared.

The first voice, presumably Tomas, responded. Yes, Graham, I can hear him. Now, whatever will we do about this?

I heard a sigh from the second voice, Graham. We should probably leave before he faints, he stated lightly.

Yes, I suppose we should, Tomas mumbled with fake disappointment. It was only then I realized that there were two of them, both speaking directly to me, meaning quadruple the pain.

The pair laughed at me. Only now does he confront the amount of agony he’ll be in. How naive, one of them said. I didn’t really care who it was anymore.

Oh well, the other responded, Should we give him time to brace himself?

A few moments of silence passed.

Nope.

A pain unlike any other ripped through my forehead. It felt like my skull was being shattered. I couldn’t breathe, or see, or feel anything except the agony in my head. Was I screaming? Was I crying? I couldn’t tell. Finally, after what seemed like hours of unspeakable pain, my vision started to clear and the pain dulled a bit. I realized I had fallen to the floor.

Shakily, I turned my face towards the men and was immediately blinded by the sudden brightness of the harsh gym lights. I blinked with much difficulty and tried to stay upright. The world spun and quivered. My vision finally focused and I saw the two men standing over me, smiling smugly. They didn’t offer their hands to me so I could get up, but instead strode away from me brusquely.

I looked around and saw that they had created a circle around them with the students, still under their control. Their faces were slacked and their eyes were unfocused. The men were now standing in the very center of the circle.

I noticed that none of the other kids’ feet quite touched the ground.

I struggled to speak. With much effort, I was able to manage a feeble “Put them down...”

I recognized Graham’s voice as he said, “If you say so.”

Thirty pairs of knees buckled all around me and hit the ground. Grumbles and groans filled the room. The pair did nothing to help us and watched us struggle until we had all managed to stand again. Once again, all eyes were on them, but many stares were filled with spite.

I finally got a good look at the two men standing before us. One, who I identified as Tomas, was a lanky man in his twenties. His skin was the color of cream and muscles strained his shirt. He had cold, grey, almond shaped eyes and short, jet black hair, though it was not nearly as dark as Ree’s.

Ack, no, I reminded myself, They can hear what you’re thinking. You’ll give her away.

Graham, on the other hand, was evidently English, with a sharp, thin nose and fair skin. His hair was wavy, the color of chestnuts, and reached to his shoulders. It was like a more manly, well-kept version of my hair. He, too, had muscles that frankly didn’t seem like they should belong on humans, and a glare to match.

“Hello,” Graham said, smiling viciously, as if he was anticipating the torture that was to come to us, or to me, at least.

Tomas spoke next. “Since we are your first station, it is our duty to explain what happens in your next 3 stations. In this order...”

“You will do physical assessments with us, then report to room 129 for powers and magic assessment, then to room 124 for analyzation of weapon strategy, and finally to room 110 for technological knowledge evaluations.” Graham continued.

My head lifted at the technology part. Among all the physical activity, this was something I could do.

“You will be actively participating at each station for two hours,” Tomas finished.

He glanced at Graham with expectancy, smiling twistedly. Graham smiled back. “For now, run twelve laps around the gym.”

My heart sank, but I dropped my head doggedly and began.

By the time I got to technological evaluations, I was close to dead. I was drenched in sweat and what little muscle I had on my body ached. I had been pinned against the wall, and the ground, and to other people. I had been scorched with fire magic, and nearly impaled with shards of ice, tied with vines, and levitated and dropped to the floor. I had been weighed down with longswords, hit by shurikens, and poked all over with sabers. But somehow, I was alive.

I was close to passing out, but relief came soon, in the form of an air-conditioned room filled with computers labeled #110- Technological Evaluations. This place had been a shelter from the sweaty, hormonal storm of high school for three years. I approached the door to my personal safe haven gladly and strode- well, limped- inside.

A rush of cool air greeted me, as well as thirteen pairs of eyes. The teacher walked purposefully towards me. I realized it was Dr. Olsen, who didn’t like me but admired my scores in his class. Dr. Olsen grabbed me by my shoulders and led me to the seat labeled #1. Of course, his top student gets the first seat. He gave me a small smile and turned to greet the next student at the door.

I decided to warm up. Seeing as the computer was already booted up, I placed my fingers on the keyboard and decided to type a standard phrase, not actually pressing the keys, but just placing my fingers on the letters. At lightning speed, I typed The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog.This sentence was sometimes used to show all the letters in a certain font, as it contained all the letters of the alphabet.

I had just looked up triumphantly when someone approached me. An average-height boy swung himself lazily into the second seat. Oh, I thought. I knew who that was.

“Er- hey, Luca.” I tried to say casually.

He looked up, met my eyes and nodded at me. “Hey, man.”

I looked away. People only called you “man” when they forgot your name. I know. I’ve heard it all.

Luca was a smart guy, in more than one way, meaning he was intelligent, but quick-witted and sarcastic at the same time. He had hair the color of cork and eyes that mirrored the sky. His skin was tan and his lips were always turned up at the corners. He had a lopsided, gap-toothed smile and a care-free attitude that I had always admired.

We had been... "friends” for a while. That was, until he found out that I didn’t have a power. He was a shapeshifter, a power that was rarely discovered. I found his story funny- his mother one day come home to find her husband chasing a chicken around their apartment. His dad had explained that Luca had changed into several other animals that day- a dog, a guinea pig, an owl, a frog... long story short, they had a bit of trouble controlling him in public as a toddler.

I always thought Luca was cool, but when he discovered I had no powers, I guess he decided that he was too important to hang out with any Displaced kids. I tried to tell myself that he didn’t matter, that we likely wouldn’t be friends anyway, but the truth is he was probably my only chance at friendship, and just because I lacked powers, I lost him.

I came back to the present and tried to shake myself. Focus, I told myself. This is the one place you can excel.

Dr. Olsen marched to the front of the room. “Welcome to Technological Evaluations,” he said authoritatively, “I’ve installed some software on your computer. It’s essentially a program with levels to see how far you can get until the end of the two hour period. There are thirty-one levels. Locate the icon shaped like a globe and begin.”

I found the icon and double-clicked on it. A pop-up flashed on the screen.Are you sure you want to continue? It read, Proceeding in opening this program will result in a permanent tab being opened until completion. I smirked at the screen, anticipating how simple this would be.

I clicked Yes.

A wave of blue covered the screen. I moved y mouse to the top of the monitor to access the drop-down menu. No exit button. No problem. I begin the first challenge. I survey the screen to see if I can make anything out of it. There is a countdown timer flashing on the screen, currently at five minutes, presumably for setting off a bomb. I’m supposed to shut it down, I think; easy. My fingers fly over the keys and before I know it, with four minutes and eighteen seconds to spare, the ”bomb” is disarmed and I’m on level two. This level is just as simple as the last, and I complete it in flying colors. The third level is slightly harder, but I can handle it with ease, it just takes twelve seconds longer. The cycle repeats itself over and over, each level not challenging me in the slightest, until I finally check my progress.

Task #22, the screen tells me, Time elapsed: Nine minutes, twenty-seven seconds.

I’m astonished at myself. Less than nine and a half minutes. That’s a professional grade-level time for software like this. I decide to stop and rest the fingers that had endured so much today, from burns to knicks with swords. I look around me to see how my peers were doing.

Again I am astonished.

I see people around me with far worse progress than I have made. There were people still struggling through level three. One kid, Aiko, had given up on level two altogether and was leaning back in his swivel chair fixing his electric blue fringe (No wonder, he was in the last seat). Even Luca, in the number two seat, was thoroughly perplexed with level seventeen. People were struggling so much with the one thing I was good at.

And as suddenly as I realized the situation around me, words echoed through my head- Norman’s words.

No. Mercy. Demolish all who stand in your way.

No mercy.

Was this his outlook on everything in life? Crush everything that could possibly make you look even slightly like you’re less than the best? It seems like with everything in life I’m always finishing last. Nothing worked out for me and while I realize it may sound like a stereotypical, high school-sob story, I lived that movie-sad life every day. Computers, Shakespeare, and, more recently, Ree and Lucy, were my only sources of comfort in this twisted world of good and evil. Even so, Norman always seemed to have things go his way. But then suddenly, I remember his words from the day we learned we were in a war.

“Face it little bro, I’ll always be better than you.”

But not today.

Today, I would win.

My fingers dashed across the keyboard and my eyes analyzed the information on the screen inhumanly fast. My mind was focused solely on the task at hand and all the world around me seemed to disappear. I kept myself grounded with the sounds of the keyboard and subconsiously listened to the noises of the keys I pressed. Click, click, click, click-CLACK, click, cli-click, CLACK...

Done.

A message pops up on the screen: Assesment complete. Please notify your instructor. Time: Eleven minutes, forty-four seconds. Additional information will be handed out at the end of all four sessions.

I raised my hand with barely contained pride. Dr. Olsen nodded in approval and wrote my name and time on the blackboard. All the other students stared at me, dumbfounded. Luca reached over to give me a high five. “Nice job, Max,” he said, clearly impressed.

“Nice job, Max.”

“Max.”

I grinned.

It’s ten o’clock at night and I’m laying on my bed in the dark, surrounded by the things that bring me comfort. I guess I’m feeling kinda sentimental. There’s nobody around who will praise me for my performance today, so I’m surrounding myself with the people that would if they could.

At the foot of my bed, my sketchbook lays open to the picture of Lucy, and my earbuds are plugged in with the recording on repeat. I’m breathing in the scent of my mom’s perfume and the bitter, sharp smell of my sister’s nail polish, staring intensely at the photo. The Complete Works of Shakespere lays open in the middle of the bed, the edge digging into the inside of my knee.

My face is half buried in my pillow and my eyes are closed slightly. I’ve been trying to convince myself not to cry, that I should be proud of my work today, but I considered myself a hopeless case. Nobody could affirm my actions. Nobody could tell me I had a gift. As much as I hated to admit it, I relied on affirmations to make me feel as if I accomplished something. I had a record time, but because nobody could tell me “Good job” and pat me on the back, I was beating myself up. The fleeting moment of happiness I had felt at the time of my victory was now gone, vanished into the air like a thin kind of mist.

I closed my eyes entirely and squeezed them shut. A few thin tears rolled sideways down my cheek and onto my pillow. I sighed, telling myself that real men shouldn’t cry. God, couldn’t I do anything right? I ran my fingers through my hair viciously, like I could rip the thought out of my head altogether. Needless to say, it didn’t work.

I let my hand drop to the matress. It made a crunching sound as it landed on something. Afraid I had crushed the thing, I sat quickly upright and my earbuds flew out of my ears. I looked at the object.

The picture of my mother. And Ree’s.

I tenderly picked it up and slid back into my pillow, never breaking gaze with my mother’s eyes. I almost still couldn’t believe it. That a hero and a villain were friends. That my mother and a hero were friends. It made me feel better about Ree.

Ree.

My heart melted a little as I was reminded of my golden-eyed girl. I thought of her for the first since last night’s meeting. Her eyes were still intense in my mind and they now burned into my vision like a painting on the ceiling. I couldn’t help but smile when I was reminded of Flash attacking my brother. Even if that aggressive mink blew her cover, I could come up with something to cover it up.

I missed her. It felt like fire in my veins to be away from her. I felt like I couldn’t function without her, but at the same time, I was driven by the mere thought of her.

But I knew now.

She liked me. The one girl who I knew for mere weeks, who I had fallen hopelessly head-over-heels in love with liked me too. My stomach felt warm and fuzzy and my insides turned to mush as I replayed the scene again and again in my head. It was an amazing feeling, like winning the lottery a million times over. Words couldn’t describe the emotions that ran through me when I thought of her shouting at me, “I LIKE YOU!”

Rihanna Mackay liked me.

But I wasn’t supposed to love her. I clenched my fists hard and my knuckles turned white. No, I thought to myself, I can be victorious once today, I’ll do it for the rest of time if need be. I’ll do anything. Fueled by that thought, I took the dinner that Norman brought to my room, ate it quickly, and went to sleep.

The last thing I thought about before I fell asleep was her liquid-gold eyes.

Maybe I would have the good luck to dream about them.