Ali - November 2011 - More than eight and a half years ago
“ARCHIE!” Aaron had caught the senior before he could hit the ground. Marissa was right beside them, her arms waving frantically as she watched the junior assess our future patriarch’s condition. “Ohmigods, ohmigods, ohmigods--”
“Marissa! Calm down,” Aaron cautioned her, his green eyes briefly flashing white. I wondered if I was seeing things. “You’re making a scene.”
Sure enough, there were other students and some teachers approaching our group. “You kids okay?” asked Mrs. Escribano, my history teacher, from the main steps.
“Get rid of her,” Aaron whispered to no one in particular. Then he hoisted Archie up like he was carrying a little kid and not another six-foot-something giant like our coven’s heir. Archie’s head fell back
