Ink (On Hold)

Chapter 2

Jamal sat on the kitchen floor, no shirt as usual. Arms and chest muscled from all the time in the gym. Curly black hair, brown eyes, and dark skin made his Indian ethnicity pretty clear. I sat next to him, both of us cross-legged, silently eating our Ramen noodles. I glanced at the clock, 10:00. I've kept away the ink from my arms for three minutes and my mind was already getting tired.

"You don't have to hide it," Jamal said to me, as if he knew what I was thinking. Jamal was one of few who knew about my power. Our skin had made contact before, but he made me promise not to read about him and I've kept that promise. I hesitated but decided to let go and let my body relax. I felt a tingle in my arms which signaled that the ink was writing itself again. I looked over and caught Jamal staring.

"It's not the first time you've seen it happen," I told him.

"I know, but it's still... interesting to see."

"You mean freaky." Jamal didn't respond so we continued eating in silence. I had always been interested in Jamal's past so admittedly it was hard for me to keep my promise. Especially since I had been living with him for two years now . He's still practically a stranger.

Jamal was a senior in high school while I was a sophomore at the time when we first met. My parents treated me like a freak. They just couldn't accept what I could do, but they were kind enough not to tell anybody. That was the only thing they did right. Jamal and I talked every now and then and eventually he became my only friend, the only person I started to trust. I stayed after school one night, sometime in the middle of that year, and I didn't want to go home. I sat on the bleachers at the football field, waiting for the sun to go down. When the clock struck 6, the writing showed up. And so did Jamal.

He took a seat next me, his eyes traveling up and down my arms but he didn't say anything. I told him what I was doing so he invited me to stay at his apartment since he had previously moved out from his own home. I never asked him why he showed up at the football field. But since he didn't ask about my arms, I didn't feel it was right to. When I let my parents know that I was moving out, they looked completely relieved. That's what hurt the most, the fact that they honestly couldn't have cared less.

After I moved in with Jamal I found out a few things. I found out Jamal worked with an elite, undercover group, The Grays, who expose people for who they really are. If companies were doing something shady, they go in, find out what it is, and release it to the public. They had brought down some bad people before, not to mention powerful.

I knew I needed money to help pay for rent if I was to stay with Jamal and I was accepted into The Grays purely because they trusted Jamal. They paid well and I was curious to where they had gotten the money to pay everyone. But I was never one to ask questions right away. I knew I would find out eventually. I made a couple new friends at The Grays' headquarters which they call The Gray Area. After half a year I let them know about me. That made four people in total who knew about me. I trusted them, and so far, they seemed to be the right people.

"Who were you reading about?" Jamal asked, taking both our empty bowls and washing them in the sink.

"Alice."

"Brunelli?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"There's only one Alice in your school that I knew of. I spoke to her a couple times. Really sweet."

"Really beautiful," I added.

"That, too." He shut off the sink and stood there for a second, looking out the small window. Then he turned and sat back down next to me. "Why do you always bring that up when I bring up a girl?"