The Cult of Romeo

IX. As Thick as Blood

Act 1, Scene 9

Mr Donahue's office was perfectly clean. His desk had no evidence of work and no sign of life anywhere other than the files lined on his bookshelf. Before I could've talked myself out of it, I went to the files and pulled out the many scripts that had been left. My vision blurred before my eyes but names scribbled along the front of pages concentrated my gaze, if only for a moment each. I took the picture of Khaleel and my faces crossed out from my pocket.

Last night, I'd analysed the handwriting of the threat on the back to compare to these scripts but I was hesitant to find something. If I were to find something, what would I have done? Would I have confronted that person? I had yet to see Nora Takahashi after hearing her voice on the phone. That single word she'd uttered still haunted me. Though Nora was cruel, I couldn't quite see her as a killer. Nor could I see Khaleel as one either. I didn't exactly suspect anyone in our school for these deaths. I couldn't see anyone doing something so inhumane.

If I tried hard enough, I could trick myself into believing that perhaps Elijah and Jackie hadn't died at all; that this was all an elaborate joke and everyone was laughing at me for running through Donahue's office to find the author of this fake threat. That I'd only have to wait until after the memorial and Elijah would jump out with a grin to tell me how much he'd laughed while watching me run around trying to find clues that weren't really ever there.

Julien sat on Donahue's chair as he spun around in circles, the squeaky sound loud over my thoughts. He opened drawers and looked through the papers inside, throwing them over his shoulder and dropping them onto the table. A navy school blazer was draped over the desk and my cousin raised it over his head, swinging it in the air as a gust of wind intertwined with a perfect lavender gushed at me. He threw it to the floor in a careless heap. 

I rolled my eyes but let him do what he wanted. Though Julien was known as a troublemaker, his friends didn't know even half of what he was capable of. When we were young, my mother was hesitant for me to even see Julien and his sisters because of how troublesome Julien had become.

In the weeks leading up to my parents' separation, my mother talked non-stop about my dad's brothers and how they let their children roam free. She talked about how the last thing she wanted was for me to be sucked into their wrong-doings. Especially without Henri, the supposed good influence, now to look after me, she was worried. 

I wouldn't stop Julien from roughing Donahue's office up, but I'd watch. Besides, I had my own issues that had nothing to do with him or his sisters or my other cousins. 

I flicked through the scripts, each time I turned to the next hand-writing, it strayed further and further away from that of the threat. A ball of frustration slowly built in my gut and I resisted the urge to scream. Instead, I threw the box of scripts on the floor in a huff to which Julien let out a cheer.

"Yes! Again, throw more!" He grinned with his legs on the desk.

I rolled my eyes. "Didn't your dad teach you to analyse handwriting too? You should be helping me."

"I wasn't the miracle child who could see the past or future. That was all you and Henri. You two always got the most attention," he shrugged.

I stood tall, my back spiking up straight as I stared at Julien. He seemed unbothered but I was unsure of how truthful he was being.

"Did that annoy you?" I wondered.

"It gave me enough time to perfect many of my other skills, and there are many. I am a man of many talents. You may be able to see into the past, Lottie, but I can skateboard. Can you skateboard? Or dance? Or bake a cake?" He wouldn't make eye contact.