THE DUAL MARKED

LYRIANA The first day of senior high, and of course, I’m LATE. Not because I overslept and definitely not because I forgot to set my alarm. No! My lateness has a different kind of story, more like a tradition, really. One that happens every Monday morning with my cousin, Prince Kaelen. When it first started, I tried to complain to my uncle, the king. But after Kaelen got scolded, he made me suffer even worse. I kept hoping it might eventually change, so I tried a few more times, but the punishment only grew harsher. And in the end, I had no choice but to give up and live with it. Now I’m used to it. To the pattern, and to the words that I can even mouth them along with him when he says them. *** The driver pulled us out of the palace gates, the car humming smoothly beneath us, like it could go forever, but unfortunately it never makes it all the way to school with me inside. Kaelen won’t allow that. After a few streets, the car stopped, the driver didn't even meet my eyes, then the order came. “Take a cab. Or a bus. Whichever you can find,” Kaelen said lazily while his girlfriend, Serenya’s laugh dripped like poison beside him. Why was that b***h laughing like the fool she was? Does she have to remind herself every minute of how much of a viper she was? How she even manages to go home on weekends at ease is still bewildering to me. Or maybe it isn’t, because her boyfriend, my nutjob cousin, happens to be the prince and Velcrest Academy’s golden boy, who had control over most teachers and if not because of his father, who keeps him in check sometimes, he could have had every one at his beck. I rolled my eyes as I stepped out of the car but didn't speak. Actually I never did. I always just obeyed his orders like a moron which I wasn't. And that's how my school morning turned into another battle against the city itself. At the rush hours, where everyone is scrambling for a ride - workers, students, people with real lives who don’t have time to pity a girl standing helpless with her bag. By the time I finally wedged myself into a crowded bus, I already knew I was going to be late again. By the time the school gates came into view, I was running. Sprinting, actually. My backpack bounced awkwardly against my shoulder, falling off partly with every stride. Sweat beaded across my forehead, some sliding down until they stung my eyelids. My lungs were on fire, my legs protesting, but above it all, I could hear it, the ROLL CALL. “…Lyriana?!” The roll call echoed from inside my classroom just as I rounded the corner. Panic shot through me. I raised my voice to answer but I was breathless. “Present! I’m present!” I practically tumbled into the doorway, clutching the frame, my chest heaving as every head turned in my direction. The form teacher, Mr. Relmar squinted at me over his glasses then with a sharp voice, he called out. “Lyriana!” His eyes ran over my breathless face briefly. “And where exactly do you think you’re going, rushing in here like a storm? Stop right there, young woman!” I almost wished the ground could open up and swallow me because I knew what would follow and just like I thought, laughter erupted instantly in the classroom. I didn't have to look to know where it was loudest. Kaelen was sitting tall with that stupid smug grin he always had. Serenya was at his side laughing as well, but her laughter was like a dagger. She enjoyed twisting it so much. “Why won’t she be late?” Serenya’s voice rang above the noise. “Clumsy, sluggish human that she is. A curse can’t help being a curse.” My cheeks burned from anger, hate and embarrassment but I kept my head down. I’ve learned this lesson well and I know that answering back only fed them with more energy, so I stood there, my chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths. Ah, I wish I could just disappear into the floor. “I’m sorry, sir,” I murmured finally, forcing my voice to be steady. “It won’t happen again.” Mr. Relmar huffed, tapping his register. “Better not. Take your seat, and next time, try arriving like a student, not like a thief breaking in.” Did he have to add that part? I rolled my eyes but made sure no one saw me, because I wasn't in for more trouble, especially not with a teacher. As I walked down the aisle, more snickers followed me, pressing heavier on my back than the bag I was carrying. My cousin leaned just enough for his voice to reach me. “Try to keep up, cousin,” he whispered, smiling like it costs him nothing. Serenya stifled a laugh behind her perfect hand but she made sure it was loud enough for everyone to notice. I gripped the strap of my bag tighter, trying to focus my eyes on the empty desk waiting for me. My heartbeat hasn’t slowed from the run, but now it has nothing to do with it. It’s the same as always; this quiet storm inside me, the one I was never allowed to unleash. Just then I saw her. Thessalia, my best friend. Her gaze found mine, steady and soft and for a moment, and immediately the noise around me dulled. She dipped her head, mouthing ‘SORRY’ to me. It wasn't the kind of sorry you say for lateness, but the kind that ached, the kind that said she wished she could shield me and that made my eyes burn slightly. I slipped into the chair behind her, and almost immediately, she patted my hand where it rested on the desk. “Sorry, love,” she whispered. And instantly the lump in my throat eased. Thessalia’s voice was always gentle, like water smoothing jagged stones. The funny thing is, she used to be Serenya’s shadow. Until that day in junior high, when everything changed. I can still see it clearly; Thessalia frozen in horror, her skirt stained red, while Serenya, her so-called best friend, laughed, pointing at the stain, and letting the others watch and laugh louder. No one moved to help her. No one but me. My mother had taught me what to do when that moment came, how to prepare, and how to carry myself. So I guided Thessalia out of the room, helped her clean up, and gave her my spare sweater to wrap around her waist. She had cried the whole time, whispering that she wished she could disappear, and I just held her hand and told her that what happened was natural, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. From that day, Serenya lost a follower, and I gained a friend. Back to my terrible morning, Thessalia glanced back at me and her lips curved into the smallest smile. Serenya sees this and her eyes narrowed sharply like they could sprout poisonous seedlings. “Birds of the same feather,” she said loudly enough for the row beside her to hear. “Pitiful things, flocking together.” A ripple of laughter moved across the room again. I kept my eyes down, tracing the grain of my desk as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world. Thessalia stiffened, but didn't answer to her nonsense. I knew she wanted to, but I also knew it would only make things worse. “Enough chatter,” Mr. Relmar snapped harshly from the front. “If we’re done with theatrics, perhaps we can continue.” The class fell quiet but still a few chuckles lingered like gnats. “History textbooks. Now!” He commanded as his gaze swept across us, landing briefly on me. “Open to chapter seven: The First Sundering and the War of the Realms.” A hush spread across the room like a veil as book pages turned. My hands moved automatically, turning the pages of my textbook, but my mind was elsewhere, still resting on Thessalia’s whispers of comfort, and the bitter aftertaste of Serenya’s venom. The storm within me is banging on its cage as hard and strong as ever. And although I have convinced myself that I’ve gotten used to the treatment, I am still left wondering when or if it will ever end.