The Chime of Bluebells

14

My mind wouldn't rest. It kept replaying my conversation with Dad, him telling me he'd tried to make my mind more at ease with constructing a discreet meeting with Malachi. The conversation was well over a week ago and ever since, I'd gone through the last phone call with Malachi. His words had let me down just as many times they'd played in my mind.

Talk to you soon.

How soon was soon? It had been over a fortnight. Was it a bad thing? Was he making distance by choice? Was he purposely not returning my latest two calls strictly to protect Dad's campaign? I wanted to scream how idiotic, stupid, incredibly dumb, disappointing, hurting it was. But although he was wounding my longing feelings after him, a voice kept repeating he wasn't egocentric...unlike me. Longing for him? How could I be mad about him not reaching out and ease that pain, when he was the one behind bars. I was the selfish one.

I love you.

Three words, one sentence and I'd said it. Nothing extraordinary. We'd said it to each other many times before. Five to be exact, six with this one. He hadn't replied though. Not this time.

Talk to you soon.

I let my head bump into the backseat of Quinn's old kobalt Mustang, model year 2054. "A real pearl", as Quinn would call her.

"Already done for today?"

My eyes glanced over to my sister behind the wheel.

"Gotsha. I wouldn't be too excited about a Future Fair Day either... I mean, come on. Talking about jobs that won't even exist in a few years? Talk about depressing—with a capital D."

"It's a University Future Fair. It's about learning what you like and stepping closer to the choice of which program you want to apply for."

"You're not hearing me. Why study for years in vain? The jobs won't be there when you're done."

I rolled my eyes. She was exaggerating, but I did get where she was coming from. It wasn't news, exactly. Generation Alpha might have stabilised it with help from the Zs'—although through a Cold War. However, our grandparents had told the story multiple times about how the world was separated in how to deal with global warming causing extreme damage and overpopulated refugee camps. Grandpa always told the war was all about the diversity between generations and their different priorities and values. Grandma always told it was all about nation's paranoia and ignorance, mostly speaking from the more privileged countries which weren't the first to be dragged underneath the bus.

Quinn came to a stop in front of Aula Robula II's immense pillars, welcoming students and visitors alike to the campus. Of course, University of Aleensburg's proudness—the Aula—had to be the first thing one saw entering the grounds.

"When should I pick you up? Or do you think the guys'll give you a ride?" Quinn winked, jerking her head backwards to the black SUV a couple of cars behind ours.

"Lee will probably give me one."

She nodded. "See you tomorrow then."

My hand froze at the door handle. "And where are you going?"

She smiled, wiggled her brows. "Kai's having a few friends over."

"Kai Parker?"

She bit her lip, her mind clearly wandering off. Parker was everything you did not want: low IQ, low EQ, a one man's show and had the rumour of never getting it with just one person at the time—there was always a number of them in his bed. In short, no boyfriend material.

"Alright," I opened the door. "Good luck with your almost impossible quest."

"Don't be so pessimistic! You're bringing my chances down!"