Companion

Chapter 19: Setting the Framework

"So, Tournaments typically alternate between more intellectually-heavy or more practical or, like, physically-demanding, but it really depends on the Mission I guess," Edge explains, lets out a shaky breath, then takes a bite of his macaroni we made in honor of what might be our last night at home, at least for a while. Maybe even ever.

"Edge, we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," I say. Edge agreed to fill me in on the little details of the Tournament since I've never really participated before. Like, I know the basics. But Edge has been through it, even if he doesn't want to acknowledge it.

"No. You need to know. It's fine. Anyway, they'll pick us up at the most ungodly hour of the morning. I'll wake you up if you want so you're not surprised when they knock. Then they'll give you whatever you need to wear for the Tournament. They come with a bunch of different sizes for you to try, so don't worry about that. You have twenty minutes, max. The quicker you get ready, the more sleep you get to have on the way there.

"They will take us to a little underground room where we'll stay as the Arena fills with spectators. That's some more time to sleep, although I don't recommend it 'cause you might wake up all groggy and stuff."

"When do they tell us what the Tournament involves?"

"Never."

"Seriously?"

"Well, not never. But you find out when they explain it to the spectators. That's it. They'll tell you where to go and stuff. Before the rules are being explained, you'll be moves from the underground room to a ground-level room with glass walls and a metal door that will rise when the Tournament starts.

"This room is designed for intimidation. You can see your competition, they can see you. But do not look back at them. Whatever you do, do not look at them. No matter how tempted you are. Trust me, you really don't want to. And if you do, you'll definitely regret it. Anyway, then the Tournament begins and you get it from there."

My stomach churns and suddenly the half-finished bowl of macaroni becomes the most repulsive thing I have ever seen. Even the thought of food repulses me. I stare instead at the table.

"You're gonna be great, Hunter," Edge assures me. But one look at him and I can see how truly concerned he is.

"Edge?"

"Hmmm?"

"I don't think I'm going to be able to do this." Edge reaches across the table and captures my hand, squeezing it. He looks me directly in the eyes.

"Hunter, it's not about winning. At least, not for us. It's just about getting through it. We both have had so many things against us. I've already been through a Tournament, and won. I went through a Mission which was--" he stops himself and shakes his head, " well, everyone thinks I killed my best friend. And then they paired me up with you."

"Gee, thanks." Edge gives me a kind of half-smile, but I know he's still being very serious. He looks down at the table.

"I mean, it's been hard for both us. I know I'm a difficult person to have to deal with. And there are so many things I wish I could explain to you, but I just cannot. And I know it pisses you off, trust me. I really do. But I think the only thing that scares me more than telling you is for you to find out. Because, trust me, when you find out-- and it will no doubt happen very soon-- you will never see anything the same way again."

I stare at Edge in shock, wondering what he says he can't tell me, and wondering whether or not I actually want to know.

For some reason, I feel like this might be the beginning of the end of our time together. It's either from the way that Edge is talking, our fear of the Tournament, or the knowledge of how Edge and I came together in the first place. In any case, there's this really uncomfortable feeling of finality to everything that is being said and done, and I really don't think I'm ready to say goodbye to Edge any time soon.