Dark Embrace

LXXI - Cheat with one eye Open

As expected, I can't even understand the questions. The fuck is a 'primordial gland'? I glare at the paper desperately, when I hear a deep, low frequency booming sound from the teachers desk. The transparent crystal on it lights up red, then turns black for a few moments before going see-through again.

"No channeling!" The professor warns, looking around the class. "Even if it's a test about umbra, there's no need to use it during the exam, if you've studied properly."

Huh, I thought that crystal was just for decoration.

Looking back at my empty test sheet, something's changed. I see letters forming. Or rather shadows, shaped like letters.

These... These are the answers! As the detailed solutions form below the questions, I also spot some text appearing on my desk, next to the paper. Seem to be some instructions and comments, like 'Swap words around a bit', 'For the example write this instead:...', 'Srsly doesn't this sound like an innuendo lol' and 'Heh that's why my tongue's so long'.

I almost audibly giggle at the realization. I'm so stupid. Of course she cares. Why did I, even for a second, doubt that she's the best? Using the shadows as templates, I write over them with ink. Easiest exam of my life! Thank you, Blair!

The shadows fade as the people start bringing their tests to the professor. I double check if the changes I made still make sense in the sentences. Blair softly bumps my shoulder as she passes me, handing her own test in. She walks back winking, flashing her tongue at me with a grin, which does pull a snicker from me. Although I quickly realize that it's not accompanied by a stretched out wink. She's holding one of her eyes closed. I turn after her with a raised eyebrow.

"Miss Blade!"

I snap back towards the teacher. Right, I should probably hand in my test first.

At the end of the class, I wait up for Blair to leave together. As we reach the door among the crowd, the professor speaks up.

"Miss Smith, just a moment please."

Blair stops, looking at me with her one open eye. I leave slowly, looking back at her from outside the classroom, staying within earshot.

"Could you open your eye for me?" He asks, arranging the test sheets into neat piles.

She crosses her arms. "No? It hurts."

"Please?" The professor doesn't look amused.

"I am not required to open my hurting eye to you!"

"I am not required to pass you."

"I hit her!" Stepping back into the classroom, I speak up. "Accidentally."

"Yeah, she can't throw a ball straight to save her life." Blair plays along, pointing at me with her thumb.

The professor really doesn't look convinced.

Here goes nothing.

"You're just clumsy... bitch."

She snaps back, "Slut!"

"Language!" The professor raises his voice. Then waves us away, sighing.

"Leave, before I take you to Professor Delacroix to teach you some manners."

We walk out, and as we turn the corner, she holds out her fist.

"Nice save, girl!" She looks at me with a respectful smile. I give her a fistbump, mirroring her expression. Except, you know, the closed—

"Now, let's get my eye back! It's getting really itchy!"

...Say what now?

She begins running, palming her closed eyelid. I run after her, we're headed straight to the toilets. She bursts in, and flips open a cubicle door with an 'Out of service' sign on it. Blair walks, I look in.

Okay. Okay. What the fuck?

On top of the toilet's tank, there's a glass of water. On top of the glass of water, there's a book. In the glass of water, there's an... eye. Her eye. Just sitting there, partially submerged, held in place by the book on top. Oh, and there's an answer sheet taped to the wall where the eye is looking, but who cares right now, like...

"What the fuck?"

Blair removes the book, carefully reaches in for the eye, picking it up. Holding it above the toilet, she rinses off the dry area with the glass of water.

"Do. Not. Slip." She instructs the eyeball. Washing it off, she holds it against her closed eyelid as shadows form around her hand. I can't watch. I turn away. I'm not usually squeamish, but... what the fuck!?

"All good!" The affirmation arrives soon. I look at her. She's blinking rapidly, rolling both her eyes around, getting... used to it again? I don't know!

"You're insane!"

She scoffs. "What? You needed help, didn't you?"

"But— That was your eye! You just... took it out!?"

She starts walking out. "Why are you making it such a big deal?"

"I'm just worried about you! Are you sure that was safe!?" I follow her, lagging behind.

"I'm fine!"

"But you can't just—"

"Don't tell me what to—" She snaps back, raising her voice, clenching her fist to hold herself back from finishing the sentence.

I... recoil.

Wiping off the rest of the water from her face, she walks up to me, taking a deep breath. She puts her hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry, okay? It's just... I got along by myself up until now, and I'll be fine in the future. Don't worry about me, there's no reason for it." With that said, she pats my shoulder, turns away, and walks out.

Standing there, left alone, I... also wipe my face.

She's allowed to worry about me, but I can't worry about her? Why? I just wanted to take care of her, as she did me. Why is she pushing me away?

I feel a lump in my throat. My vision keeps getting blurry, no matter how much I try to wipe it off.

Why couldn't I just say 'Thanks for the help'? Or 'Thanks for enduring an hour of your eye being in a glass of water, pressing against a book, just cause I couldn't be bothered to study'? Why couldn't I just say a simple 'Oh, ok.', and go back to how things were literally hours ago? Maybe Dæmien was right. I really am just an absolute bitch, aren't I?

I should thank her. And apologize for overreacting. Before she—

With trembling hands, I take out my phone to text her.

Seven missed calls.

Gabe.

We were suppo— I forg— I can't— I just— 

...

I break down, sobbing.