I stumbled out of bed over to my full-length mirror. The mess upon my head that I called hair was a messy and tangled bundle, my bangs hanging in my eyes. There were dark circles underneath my depressed, hazel eyes. I continued my long, depressing journey to my dresser. My last morning journey before I left for California.
Rubbing my eyes and yawning, I pulled out a random outfit from my bag, not really paying attention to the clothing. I moved to the bathroom, grabbing a clean towel off the rack. I ran the water, feeling the water for temperature. Once I was satisfied with the warmth of the water, I stripped off my bed clothes. Entering the shower, I let the water flow over my bare skin, calming my frazzled mind. I followed my morning routine, washing my face, hair, and body.
Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped my fluffy towel around myself, drying myself off. The water had refreshed me, in both body and mind. I dressed in the clothes I had picked out, glad that they were travel-able. Carefully, I slipped my loose, violet shirt, not wanting the water from my hair to soak my shirt. Under a blue skirt of light material, I pulled on black leggings and a pair of brown, lace-up boots. Turning on my blow dryer, I dried my hair, which quickly regained its previous luster.
Leaving the bathroom, I emotionlessly slung my bag over my shoulder, leaving my room. Hopping down the stairs, I turned into the kitchen.
“Ready, Ivory.” I indifferently told the waiting CIA agent.
Evaree snorted, fuming. Over the past day or two, I had taken to calling her anything but what she wanted. She had, of course, attempted to use reverse psychology to get me to call her by her real name, which failed miserably. You never try to use reverse psychology on the Master of Reverse Psychology.
To avoid long, untimely goodbyes, I had said my farewells the night previous. I knew that just about now, my adoptive parents would be sleeping, just about to wake up at their 8:00 alarm. I grabbed a bagel off the counter, smearing a bunch of cream cheese between the layers.
“Eat a lot. The airplane food is terrible.” Meepee informed me.
“Nah. I think I’m good. Gregory.” I smirked defiantly.
“Gregory?” Evaree questioned, raising an eyebrow, amused.
“Mhmm.” I agreed. “It’s your name. Right?”
“No.” Eevee hissed. “It’s E- Va- Ree.”
“So Allergy?” I asked innocently.
“No!” she exclaimed angrily, throwing her hands in the air as I calmly watched her and ate my bagel. “Ergh. Kids!”
“Ohhhhh, sorry, that’s just ‘cause I’m allergic to you. Your name is Thorny, am I right?” I asked.
Beaver-Lee tugged at her blond hair, frustrated. “No! I- ugh- you- my- fu-“
“Nu uh. My virgin ears can’t handle that.” I interrupted, licking the cream cheese off my lips.
The agent sighed, her jaw clenched. “We have to go to the airport soon.” she finally announced.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go.”
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
I sat in silence with Evar- I mean, Eerie. For once, I was actually enjoying having her in the car. She was grumbling and mumbling the entire car ride to the airport, but I got to sit in a limousine! And there was a refrigerator! And a freezer! With ice cream!
YOU ARE READING
The Jeweled Box
FantasyArika lost almost everything at the age of four, and has been living with her parents' closest friends ever since. Now fifteen, she discovers what her most prized possesion and her parents' darkest secret is- a jeweled box. Arika goes on a journey...
