George Karim

8

Chapter Eight

George and I make our way through London’s streets. It’s evident that George is bothered by Lockwood’s interaction earlier.
“George?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you ok?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
I pull on his padded jacket, “because you’re walking so fast I’m practically running after you.”
He glances back, “That’s just because you’re dainty.”
“I am not that small.”, I say still chasing after. “Geroge I’m serious what’s bothering you?”
He stops dead in his tracks causing me to bump into his back. He spins on his heels to face me. “What's your sudden interest in my mood?”
This boy has some attitude. “I don’t know, maybe because I care. But, forget it if you’re going to be an ass about it.” I wanted to storm off, but George prevented me with his arm.
“Wait.”, he sighs. “I’m sorry. It's just, I'm always excluded. I’m more than just a researcher, you know.”
“I know the feeling.”
He looks as if he wanted me to elaborate but decides against it and keeps walking.

The British Archives didn't look like anything special, but from the way George lit up about it, one would never know.  We walk in together towards the front desk. I was shocked that they allowed him entrance with his sword. Although, I have noticed many teens casually walk around with utility belts of swords, flares, and bombs. The building looked more like a museum rather than an archives building. I was expecting a building with dust shelves of boxes filled with files. On the contrary, this was a well-lit building with desks and tables spread out in various locations throughout the multi-story building. The British Archives looked more like a library at a university.
"One- I mean two-day passes please." George corrects himself.
"Sorry love, only space for one today."
George looks back at me from across the hall, and what I assume was him contemplating to just leave me.
"Look it's important. And I need her for training. Is there any way we can-" The lady cuts George off.
"Like I said. There's only one space left."
George walks over to me with a face of annoyance.
"There's only room for one. And… why are you smiling?"
"Because I have a plan.", I say with a cocky tone. "You know the windows on the bottom section?"
"Yeah. What about them?"
"You will go in,  open the window, and let me in."
"Those windows are small, and they are also in the restricted section." George protests.
"You stole a high-valued artifact and you're telling me you can't sneak into some library office." I poked.
He sighs, " this is a bad idea."
"Perhaps, but it will work. Now go." I spin him around and push him towards the archives entrance. He looks at me one last time with a face of dread.
I walk outside and make my way down to the building's bottom floor. I pass by other pedestrians on the street and sneak down the stairs to the window. I wait at the agreed-upon spot trying my best to look inconspicuous. Five minutes go by and still no sign of George. I hope he didn’t get into trouble. I was engrossed in my thoughts when a voice startled me.
"You alright miss."
I turn to see a red-haired gentleman wearing a grey and black fencing uniform. A single silver badge was pinned to his right shoulder reading Fittes. The red-haired boy must have been no older than 17 or 18.
"I'm sorry. It's just. You look a bit lost.", he flashes a smile walking closer to me.
"I'm fine. I was just…", I couldn't think of a good enough lie. "You're from Fittes?" I question attempting to change the subject.
"I am. Bobby Vernon at your service." He bows in a princely manner. "I don't mean to intrude but your accent."
"Yes, I'm not from around here. I just moved here from America."
"Wow." He exclaimed. An impressed expression filled his freckled face. "What made you travel across the pond?"
Finally, a tapping noise came from the window at my feet. I cut the conversation short.
"It's been nice talking to you Bobby, but I should head back."
The boy caught on, "Of course. Well, it's been a pleasure meeting you miss…?"
I was hesitant to give my name to a stranger but desperate times call for desperate measures.
"Flores."
"Miss Flores.", he grins making his way back to the steps leading up to the sidewalk.
Perfect timing too, because George had finally unsealed the window with a loud bang.
"Jesus George, could be any louder. I don't think everyone heard." I said, slipping my legs through the opening. "And what took you so long."
"Veronica, would you just shut up and get in.", he whispers/shouts back at me.
"Ah," I squealed, as gravity shoved the rest of my upper half through the window space landing on top of George in the process. Our bodies were flushed against each other. My head laid on his chest and his hands were wrapped around my body, from when he tried to catch me from my most graceful descent. I raised my head to meet his now big doe eyes, that were no longer hiding behind his framed lenses. Our faces were inches apart and my cheeks were red from the blood rushing to them. I could feel his breath on my lips.
"Veronica"
"Yeah?"
"Can you get off of me?"
His question snaps me back to reality.
"Oh yeah, of course. I'm sorry." I stutter, scrambling to my feet. George pats the ground searching for his glasses that were right by my feet. I pick them up and place them in his hands. I dare not to come close to his face again.
The storage closet I had dropped into was very limited in space and our two figures filled up the rest of the room. With the close proximity, I finally realized how much he towered over me. He was at least 5.9, even with his slouched posture.
The hardest part was over, and both George and I found a table to conduct our research. Well, more like he was researching and I was an errand girl. When I returned to the table with a stack of books in hand, he handed me an equally thick stack of flashcards.
"What are those for?", hoping he wouldn't say for me.
"These are for you to study. It contains everything you need to know. Like the basics, salt, silver, and iron are the best defense against visitors. Type I visitors are called shades, lurkers, stalkers- "
"Okay, I get it. You can go back to your books now."
I slumped myself down onto the chair. I was reluctant to learn, but I knew it was for the best.
Hours have past and I have reviewed the cards three times now. The archives were an upgrade from the cold dim basement. However, boredom captures me and I find myself daydreaming. 
My gaze looking over the balcony that I sat next to, fixed on the people entering and exiting the establishment. Most were other agents with swords entering, but a certain red-haired boy in a group of three others wearing the same uniform caught my attention. I watched as they traveled up the elevator to the same floor George and I were on. I must have studied too hard because I swear they were walking straight in our direction.
"George?"
"Yes?" He replies, not taking his eyes off his work.
"Do you know them?" I say, nodding toward the group. His head rises from the papers he was previously examining.
"Oh lord", he rolled his eyes in disgust.
"Karim, doing Lockwood's homework again."
"Piss off, Kipps, and take your muppet crew with you." It was clearly evident that these two don't get along. I was simply sitting in the chair next to George, watching the two go at it when the blond leader asks, "I see you've found yourself an assistant. What's your name doll?" 
"She’s my apprentice. Some of us actually have useful knowledge to pass on.” He tells him proudly. It was at this moment Bobby Vernon, the boy I had the pleasure of encountering earlier, chimes in.
"You're training her, Karim?", he laughs. "What are you going to do? Teach her about arsonry?"
He had seemed so nice earlier. What was his problem now? George stands up from his chair, “As if you could do better?”
Bobby approaches my chair and leans down to my level, “I wouldn’t stick with his lot; they’re all frauds. If want a real teacher come train at Fittes.”
George stared at me waiting for my move. I feel like I was being tested on whether I was going to ditch or choose to stay. I have every right to leave. The trio didn’t like me anyways, but then looking at George, I didn’t have it in me to disappoint him. This didn’t mean I have forgiven them yet. My eyes move from one boy to the other, not sure how to proceed.
“Leave her be. She’s not interested in joining a band of bellends. Training with second best will do nothing to help her. ”
I packed up my flashcards and belongings and left back to the house. I didn't bother to pay attention if George had followed. I felt trapped, dependent on them, and the audacity of this man. Acting as if they want me when no one has shown me an ounce of genuine empathy. It wasn't until his hand pulled me back out of the way of oncoming traffic that I was aware of his presence.
"Veronica, what's the matter with you?!" He said upset. "Are you trying to kill yourself?"
I said nothing. My heart was beating hard and my ears were ringing from the honking the car had made passing by. I think I was visibly upset as well. His eyes search mine for some explanation but all he got from me was a glare.
The remainder of the walk was silent, with George following close behind me. Usually, there is a certain amount of space between us. I think he was scared I was going to walk in front of a car again. We arrive at 35 Portland Row where Lucy and Lockwood were sitting at the table waiting for us.
Lucy is preparing a plate of toast and jams. Lockwood stands next to her, cradling a cup of tea in his hands. George places his sword back in the umbrella stand, hands his puffy coat on the rack, and brushes past me into the kitchen. I march up the stairs just needing a minute alone in the attic. I sit, focusing on my breathing. My emotions are all over the place again following the death of my family. I feel alone.
There was a knock on the door. “Veronica?”, Lucy called, as she entered the room.
I wipe a tear from my face with my grey long sleeve. I give her a meager smile while she joins me on the floor with a plate of cookies.
“Would you like a biscuit?”, she said raising the plate to me. At least Lucy was sweet, or pretend to be, that was still to be determined.
“Thanks”, I say taking one from the plate.
“Are you ok? You looked upset when you came home.”, She probes. I was at my limit and couldn’t hold it in. My eyes tear up and I confess, “I’m not. I’ve been dumped on your doorstep. Lockwood doesn’t care about me, only that I pass these stupid grades. All because he made an idiotic bet. George treats me like his inferior and no one is actually helping with these newfound abilities that, I never asked for in the first place. And no one has shown me a modicum of sympathy for the loss of my family.”
She is hesitant to speak. Then she begins, “I’m sorry about Lockwood and George. They can be aloof sometimes. We do want you here. All of us are here because Lockwood welcomed us when we had nowhere else to go.”
“You were?” I was surprised by the new information. “You guys just look so close I thought you all have known each other since, like, you were young.”
“We haven’t.”, She explains. “Before here I worked at another agency. I had other friends. But my best friend. Her name was Norrie. One day we went on a mission that went wrong. She was ghost-locked and everyone else died. The whole town blamed me, even my mother. So, I left and came to London. I’ve only known Lockwood and George for about 6 months now, but I would die for any one of them.” Lucy takes my hand, “That includes you too now.”
I sat taking a moment to process what she has said. I feel comforted that I no longer feel alone.
"Thank you, Lucy."
Confiding in her and, equally, sharing her past with me, made us two somewhat closer.
She stands up and stretches out a hand to me.
I take it and there's this unspoken bond that wasn't there before.
"You know what we should do?" I suggest.
"What?"
"Shopping," I say excitedly.

The weather has been the nicest I've seen since I arrived. The sun was shining, a cool breeze was blowing, and flowers were blooming. London looked cheerful, and so was I. Lucy and I arrived at Cardinal Palace, an outdoor mall. I think I know how my sister felt now. All the times we went shopping and she would just drag me from store to store. Lucy and I had gone from boutique to boutique. I hadn't found anything yet, and that's when Lucy pulled out the most beautiful silk emerald dress. My eye lit up with girlish joy.
“Oh my god, that’s beautiful.”, I exclaimed.
Lucy feeding off of my excitement tells me, “You should try it on.”
“Oh no”, I wave her off. “Besides, I have nowhere to wear it to.”
We both shrug and she places to piece of clothing back on the rack to its original spot.
We finish the day with a cup of tea from a nearby cafe and one bag filled with chains instead of clothes. The chains were for restocking the basement arsenal that George had been nagging about replenishing.
“Lucy, can I ask you something?”, I pause waiting for a response.
She replies with a hum of acknowledgment.
“Is George always uptight?”, I ask.
“Yeah, but you learn to love that about him.”, she chuckles. “However, he is less wound up after he’s eaten. Especially after eating Arif’s doughnuts.”
I nod in understanding approval.
“Can I ask you one more question?”, I spoke in a more serious tone. “How do you deal with all this? The constant threat of death? The people you have lost? I read up on The Problem during my trip to the archives. And…”, our eyes meet with a depth of mutual understanding.
Lucy begins, “Well, The Problem began before our births, and it’s something we have all we’ve ever known. But, truth be told, we don’t. It may seem like we have it all together but, truly we are all drowning.”
I thought about what Lucy had said for days. I observed the trio more closely and started to make sense. Lockwood had this need to shine and from what I have heard he can be pretty reckless. Lucy and her powerful talent that he tries to keep hidden. George and his exclusion from the duo. Although he doesn’t seem as bothered by it anymore. I would like to think it’s because he drags me everywhere, but I wouldn’t jump to any conclusions.