The Eye Of The Ankh #Wattys2016

Chapter Eight

"Hugo!"

Hugo turned and looked at me. He stopped walking and I ran to catch up with him, my book bag bouncing against my back. I let out a breath once I met up with him. "I have to ask you a question," I said, falling into step beside him.

"About Eota?"

I nodded. "I thought we could talk in your car."

Hugo made a face. "As long as it's quick. You really should just call on the phone, it's so much safer."

"I don't like using that phone." I said, sitting down in the passenger side of Hugo's car. "So, can you tell me about Thomas Adams?"

"Well, he was a 19th-century American scientist and inventor who is regarded as a founder of chewing gum, according to Wikipedia." Hugo tapped his fingers on the wheel.

"Not him. Thomas Adams, father of Quincy and Jude Adams. He was killed by Eota. What did he do?"

"He was going to murder his whole family except for his son. Son would then go buzerk, try to rob a bank, end up killing three people in the process. By killing Thomas, we saved six people's lives. It was worth it."

"Worth it? That's how you rank the murders? By how much they're worth?" I grabbed the handle on Hugo's car. "That's real fucking low, Hugo." I said and got out, slamming the door behind me. I stormed off to my car.

So.

What will Ethan do?

What will Ethan do in the future that is deserving of death before he even does it? Does Ethan know now what he has planned?

I have so many questions, all that I'm unable to ask.

Life's tough.

I've never been the type of girl to look in the mirror. When I brush my teeth, my eyes are down. I brush through my hair in the morning, glancing in the mirror to make sure I look decent. When I do look in the mirror, it isn't for long, only short peeks at my reflection.

This is something I'm not sure of why I do it.

For as long as I can remember, I was like that. Never truly looking in the mirror.

But there are a few instances that I really did look at myself.

Once, in seventh grade when someone rejected me. I looked into the mirror for thirty minutes straight that night, not saying anything, my expression never changing. I was trying to figure out why he might've rejected me (turns out he was moving away the next month and didn't want to get close with anyone).

The second time was in ninth grade, freshmen year. After the first day, I came home and looked into the mirror for fifteen minutes, trying to see how I was suddenly a high schooler, when I didn't even see myself as an eighth grader. I didn't feel any different, so I thought that I might've looked different.

I didn't.

I look into the mirror again now, trying to see how the girl in front of me could possibly be strong enough to take someone's life, to supposedly save others'. All I saw was a girl with plain brown hair and eyes that always seemed bored, a top lip that was a little too thin, and a bottom lip that didn't quite look right. Her cheek bones stood out, but not in a flattering way. They stuck out at the sides at an odd angle. She had dark bags under her eyes—supposedly from sleep, although she's never really tired—and a few loose eyebrow hairs that needed plucking.

She wasn't that special.

I looked away, closing my eyes until I felt okay again.

I looked at the clock.

An hour has passed.

"You look horrible," Quincy said as I sat down at our table. "Sleep okay?"

I shook my head. "Slept horribly." All I could think about was everything and nothing at once.

Jude gave her coffee to me. "You need it more than I do."

I took a sip and burnt my tongue. I couldn't look at Jude or Quincy, knowing they very well could be dead right now.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine." I lied.

Quincy looked at me, not convinced. He let it go, reluctantly. I drank the coffee slowly.

I had to stay late after school to get caught up on homework assignments. I was heading out of the school when I saw the basketball team head into the locker rooms. I leaned against the cinderblock wall, my eyes shut and head back.

The door opened and players trickled out slowly, one by one. I opened my eyes each time the door opened, anxious to see if it was Ethan.

Then he walked out. He was laughing at some joke then he saw me. He smirked.

"Hey." He stood in front of me, his hair dripping water onto the floor. He smelled like Irish Spring body wash, the same stuff my dad used to use. He was wearing a cut off, all of his shoulder muscles showing.

I felt extremely short standing next to him.

"Hi,"

"What'cha doing here? School ended like, two hours ago."

I nodded. "I had homework stuff to do. Ran a few errands for teachers. You know, teacher's pet-type stuff."

"Homework?" Ethan nodded slowly. "Interesting."

I smiled, brave enough to show my teeth. There were white enough for my standards.

"Are you busy tonight? I've got a ton of homework and I don't understand any of it. Algebra confuses the hell out of me." Ethan said with an exasperated look.

I shrugged. "My aunt wants me home soon. But, maybe we could get together tomorrow morning and I could help you out...?"

Ethan smiled. "I'd like that." He leaned in and kissed my cheek. "I'll meet you in the library, okay?"

"Okay."

He smiled and walked out the side door to the parking lot. I smiled, shaking my head and heading out a different door.