Shattered Light

Blissful Ignorance

I sit along the row of desks and chairs, surrounded by my six roommates. My two best friends, Remy and Andrea, are deep in conversation about the new Matte Mac lipstick color that was released. Meanwhile, Pluto, Castiel, and Misha are arguing over which hockey team is the best. My boyfriend, Connor, and I are focused on the TV, catching the last few minutes of class with Family Feud playing quietly on the screen at the front of the room. I absently fiddle with the watch on my wrist, its second hand ticking steadily toward the next minute.

"Casandra, who do you think will win the Stanley Cup?" Misha asks, causing Pluto to roll his eyes. Typical Pluto—eye-rolling is practically his signature move.

"You can't ask her! She doesn't even keep up with hockey," Castiel argues. Understandable, though—hockey isn't exactly my area of expertise.

"Breaking News!" A reporter beams through the screen, immediately quieting the conversations among us. A classmate at the front of the room stands up to turn up the volume before sitting back down comfortably in his plastic chair.

"It has come to international attention that a human trafficking group known as 'The Marketers' is currently in Canada." My jaw drops, and a quiet, panicked chatter ripples through the room.

"In case you've been under a rock for the past six months, 'The Marketers' are a large, anonymous group notorious for kidnapping, selling, and even brutally murdering young adults from around the globe. It is recommended that people near the borders stay alert and, more importantly—indoors." The newscast ends, and the volume of student conversations immediately rises.

"What the hell?" Andrea exclaims, exchanging worried glances with the rest of us. "We live in Canada for God's sake! I thought nothing bad ever happened here," she says, crossing her arms in frustration.

"Well, look on the bright side," Misha says from the end of the row, trying to lighten the mood. "At least you won't have to worry about them taking you away. I hear they only kidnap the pretty ones." He teases, causing Andrea to mutter an almost inaudible "fuck you."

"Should we still have our party?" Connor asks, twirling a strand of my long hair between his fingers.

"Fuck yeah, you should!" a random kid shouts from the front of the room. The class cheers in agreement, clearly not wanting to cancel the big event.

You could say we're known for our parties. After both of my parents died in a horrific car crash on my third birthday, I was placed in the foster care system. I loved my foster mother, Marie, more than life itself. My foster dad, though—well, that's a different story. It's not something I like to delve into, but it's pretty messed up that Connor wasn't my first for anything. Safe to say, I left that home and moved into a house with my five best friends and my boyfriend on my eighteenth birthday. Connor had conveniently won a small lottery, and we've been living life to the fullest ever since. We own more than we deserve, though I'll never complain. It's just a bit crazy that a group of seven teenagers can afford two houses and eat out almost every night.

"Besides," Misha says, pulling me back from my wandering thoughts, "I can't imagine that a big, illegal black-market operation would show up at a high school party."

"I'm sure they have better things to do," Pluto adds, flexing his biceps and kissing them both. "Besides, they wouldn't stand a chance against these bad boys." Connor, Andrea, Remy, Misha, Castiel, and I shake our heads at our ridiculous friend.

"There wa—" Remy starts to say, but the bell cuts her off before she can finish her thought.

We've successfully managed to organize our second semesters so that we all have the same free period—120 minutes to do absolutely nothing of importance. The halls are filled with hundreds of teenagers rushing to different floors or classrooms, flowing like a busy highway during lunch hour. We eventually reach the cafeteria and all pile into seats around a table. I settle between Connor and Pluto. Misha, Castiel, and Remy sit across from us, and Andrea takes the vacant spot on the other side of Pluto.

"Wanna know what the best thing about dogs is?" Misha asks, striking up a random question.

"I have no clue. Enlighten me, Misha," Remy laughs, crossing her arms.

"They can be your best friend, but dogs don't ever embarrass me like you guys do," he says, laughing. Castiel stretches his arm out and gives Misha a playful shove.

"Cunt waffle," Castiel mutters as he stands up from the cafeteria floor. "I'm getting some popcorn." He heads toward the stand, and Connor stands to follow him, pressing a kiss to my temple as he departs. I smile. Connor is much too good for me. He comes from a background that isn't as royally dark as my own.