THE FORTUNIST

34. Lay

“The Sun's Chronicle takes the form of a hairpin.”

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Ciara is pretty. But thirteen years ago, she must have only been a child when Rayton contracted her which makes Lay to wonder if this is worth following through.

Ciara walks gracefully out of the final testing room but after that, she is stomping, Lay runs after her. He steps in her front causing her to collide into his chest. She looks up at him fuming.

"Out of my way."

"I just helped you?"

"Help? Help? You call that help?"

"You're being hostile." Perhaps he was wrong, perhaps Ciara is indeed just a rude brat after all.

"I don't know you, childhood friends? Really?"

"You seemed like you needed help."

"You are pretty dumb," Ciara hisses harshly, "why would you vouch for someone you don't know?"

"But I know you, you're Ciara Mulden."

"What does that name mean to you?"

"Fine, you don't know me but you knew someone I know and he sent me. You are an artist, aren't you?"

Ciara lets her eyes roll to the back of her head for a moment. She gives him a look as if he is an apparition in her mind that she desperately wants to dispel. Then as if realising he is a solid being she actually can't wish away, she barrels past him.

"Where are you going?"

"Don't follow me!"

Lay catches the glances of curious eyes and he smiles. "She's just, she's just…," he  follows her.

"Look Ciara, I'll only take a moment of your time. You owe me. I did you a favour."

"You think vouching for me is a favour?"

"If you don't feel so okay, but you pushed me into the room when it was your turn without my permission. I don't know why you did so and I really don't mind but it's still a favour."

They approach a set of low rise buildings through which Ciara enters one without hesitation. Before he can do the same however, she pushes him back. "Where do you think you're going?" she sneers before nudging her head up. He looks and sees an inscription on the door that indicates the place as a female restroom. "You look like a creep," she says before going in, shutting the door in his face.

"I'm, I'm waiting for you here!"

He winces, acutely embarrassed. Ciara might have been a cute little girl when Rayton had met her but she had certainly evolved. Why is she being so mean instead of grateful? She is an Albenarum student by his effort, the alleged school of her dreams. He still has half the day to persuade or coerce her hopefully, unless she plans on staying in the toilet forever. Did the place have a backdoor? Doubtfully, he turns with intent to survey the place and damn the thoughts of any girl that would catch him doing so but just then, the door opens and Ciara steps out.

Lay betrays the impulse to put a hand to his ever sensitive nose as a foul odour hits it. The odour wraps around Ciara like a cloak as she stands before him a hundred times dirtier than before she went in. She dusts herself down.

"It's that bad, isn't it?"

"No."

"Okay, sell the shit to my mouth next. You're a bad liar do you know that?"

"How?"

"Ceiling."

"You climbed into the ceiling?"

She avoids his eyes. "I put my luggage there. Now it's gone. Day's going freaking great, stranded in a school I don't want to be in," she mutters as she tries to comb her debris ruined hair through with her fingers.