My Third Eye

Chapter 8

 Ezra

My alarm goes off and I immediately roll off the couch. Damn it. I stand up on my knees and am about to get on my feet when Gramps rushes in.

"I heard you fall. Are you alright?" He asks.

"I'm fine," I wave him off.

"Are you sure? You're on the floor," he notes. I glare at him and I stand up, dusting myself off.

"Positive," I assure him.

"I saw there was only one piece of lasagna last night, did you have dinner?" He questions.

"I had a piece before you did," I lied.

"I took it out of the oven, you had cold lasagna?" Gramps asks.

"Heh, yeah I was just really hungry," I say. He narrows his eyes at me but simply nods.

"Do you have any plans?" He asks.

"Yeah, Marcus and I are going to go to the library." I glance at my phone, 7:06 am. "He should be here any moment, in fact."

"Marcus, I always liked that boy," Gramps approves.

"Well that's good because he's literally my best friend," I remind him. He nods and shuffles towards the kitchen. I wait for a few more minutes before I realize, wait does he still have my old address? Shit. I run out of the house and I follow the Korteu path until I reach the section that leads to my old home but Marcus is already there, leaning against the sign. Waiting.

"You could've told me you moved, man," he complains. "I thought you guys liked that house?"

"Yeah, but it was too big with Gramps getting older and stuff," I lied for the second time this morning.

"If you had such a big house why did you always sleep over at mine? Especially since my house is so boring," Marcus questioned.

I scratch the back of my neck, nervously and shrug. He rolls his eyes, and smiles. He smiled at me. I grin cheekily, but it quickly turns into a disappointed frown. Damn it, now I feel terrible about lying! He'd be so mad if I told him though... I'll tell him eventually. I shake my head, clearing my thoughts.

As we walk down the path I see him gently flexing his fingers, and wincing every once in a while. He glances at me and I purposely catch his eye. His hands slide into his pockets subconsciously, and he holds my gaze briefly.

I purse my lips and I break the silence, "How?"

"How what?" Marcus asks ignorantly.

"Really, Mark. You know what I meant, how did your hands get so roughed up?" I say.

"I fell," he answers and he fidgets with his pockets.

"You fell?" I raise my eyebrows, doubtful.

"Yep, just fell over," he says.

"How," I pause for a moment, "vague of you." He scowls at me before walking faster down the path. I tread after him easily, enjoying the brisk pace.

Mark speeds up until we're both running across the dirt.

"I don't mind but, why are we sprinting? You don't even like running," I note.

"I just want to get to the library as fast as possible," he answers. I frown softly, guilt creeping into my chest.

"Sorry, you're right. That's the whole point of this, anyway," I say. He nods curtly and it's almost as if I can see the walls closing around him.

"What? What did I say?" I ask.