Hidden and Silent (SpyxFamily)

Ch. 8: Part Two

The hand was gone.

Anya missed it the moment she woke and her own was acutely bare as she returned to school the next week. Demetrius couldn't be with her twenty-four seven. He couldn't lead her by the hand all the time.

Though she wanted him to.

She didn't see him much Sunday after the park and her sense of support and comfort disappeared with him. It was like her oxygen tank had been torn away and she didn't know if she'd ever get it back. It was somehow worse than before, and on Monday, he was gone before she saw him.

Bereft of his particular hand, she prepared to disembark the bus wondering if she should have stayed home when she paused on the last step of the bus at the scene before her.

Damian was here again.

He bickered with Becky, both unaware she'd arrived, while Ewen and Emile stoutly supported their boss. They tossed insults back and forth, throwing random jabs that had no real basis, and as Anya took the last step onto pavement, it stopped immediately.

Becky and Damian's heads whipped her way, side-looked at each other, frowned, and looked away.

"Hmph!" They said.

The knots wound tightly in Anya's stomach.

It doesn't matter.

No matter how many times it repeated, Demetrius' words still didn't sit right as she contemplated her friend and Sy-on boy.

Anya turned and walked past them.

"Anya! Becky said more cheerily than usual as she flounced over to her and took her hand. Her countenance didn't match the nettle of worry that had only grown since Anya last saw her. She was noticing.

Of course she was.

And she had spoken with Damian.

Of course she had.

Anya let Becky lead the way. She all but ignored Damian and his friends who had taken their boss' change in attitude towards Anya in stride. It wasn't so strange that they might get along now, it wasn't unheard of. Just a little strange. They had accepted a little too easily that Damian didn't hate Anya anymore and she wished they hadn't. Maybe it would have affected Damian's decisions. In class, Anya and Becky found their seats, the boys, finding theirs, and at least they sat a distance aways from each other.

The class passed uneventfully. The lesson was as boring as ever and Damian was as nosy and annoying. He focused mostly on the lecture and the rest of his attention was partially directed at her.

She didn't want to hear his thoughts anymore. Or Becky's. It was a constant reminder that they worried about her. Thought about her. The knots only pulled tighter.

Becky was being especially neurotic and when she could, she always had Anya's hand. Partly in hopes it would comfort Anya, but also herself. Anya felt less distant to Becky this way, and she took every opportunity she could to ease Anya's anxiety. And to ease her own. Becky didn't know what was wrong, but she couldn't just leave her friend be.

Anya wished she would.

The class made it to the music room before the bell rang and the music teacher had them sit in the rows of semi-circles. Anya didn't like this class. Not because she wasn't good at it, but because it put her to sleep. They hadn't even touched an instrument yet, she didn't think this qualified as a music class. The seating was never the same and Anya was pulled to a spot between Becky and Damian.

Of course she was.

They were acting like she was going to disappear if they didn't keep tabs on her and she had never wanted more distance between them.

"Hello class." The teacher said and took up a long, wooden pointing stick. She tapped it against the black chalkboard delicately drawn with full and half notes. Fourth and eighth rests were inserted randomly among them that Anya was still learning to differentiate. The teacher reiterated her instructions from last week. With her stick tapping along to the notes, the children counted with her out loud and their hands clapped to the beat.

This class was boring and Anya didn't bother participating. She didn't care if the teacher caught and called her out on it.

It went from one rhythm to the next and Becky seemed to take great interest in what Anya did or did not do. There was no real point to it, it was purely automatic. It wasn't just music class either. History, english, and science, she paid extra attention to Anya and it was driving her crazy. She had never hated someone's undivided attention so much. Anya was supposed to be distancing herself and Becky was making it very difficult.

At the end of science class, the bell rang and the girls packed up their bags. Anya would have left straightaway if Becky didn't hang onto her hand and make them wait as Damian and his friends descended from the top.

"Hey. . ." Damian said flatly to Becky in strained civility and she sniffed imperiously.

"Hello." She matched his tone.

'Oh brother.' Anya thought, exasperated.

"Hey, Forger." Damian said as if in passing and his gaze briefly landed on her as he headed for the door. Ewen and Emile's greetings were much more relaxed. As if they had decided to sit back and watch whatever would unfold, unfold. They were still fiercely and blindly loyal to Damian, but they liked the seats they had in the back, shouting their support and watching from the side-lines. At times, it was almost as if they were on the outside watching in.

"Hey." They said as they all melded into one group and this is what Anya had wanted to avoid. It was getting to be too much. It was one thing when it was just Becky and Anya could keep reasonable distance from her. This was too much. She couldn't deal with all this, she couldn't deal with the arm Becky had hooked around her own as they strolled out of the classroom and knots knitted all over Anya's muscles.

Becky was making things very difficult.

They headed to the cafeteria and knots upon a knots upon knots kneaded through Anya's stomach. They only got worse the farther they went, the longer she walked with them and she wanted to run away. She was repulsed by her own presence here. With them. It was too much. It was felt so wrong.

And as the group narrowed into a line for the cafeteria counter, she took advantage of the other's distraction and conversation, letting herself fall to the back.

She slipped away and didn't go back.