Forcing Forget

Chapter 3

A faint voice in the background brings me to half-way conciousness, and I groan in retaliation. It feels as though I had just gone to sleep. 

"Is she awake yet?" the voice asks, and I feel an arm that was wrapped around me shake me a little. 

"Aubrey?" Xavier asks gently, and I can hear tiredness wearing down his voice, too. 

My eyes shoot open. 

Sitting up abrubtly, my head spins, and a chill takes over my body. I had been sleeping on Xavier's warm chest, tucked into him like we were two puzzle peices that fit perfectly together. A blush floods my cheeks as I realize I had inadvertantly snuggled with my ex-best-friend.

I couldn't help but think  that had to be some sort of violation in the code of what not to do with your childhood fall-out . 

"Sorry," I stammer out, as I start gathering my bag on to my lap. 

"As I was saying," Ms. Preston continues, shooting me a half-way aggravated glance ", you will be unable to contact your parents until further notice. And if any of you are anything less than polite and considerate towards your host, you may be risking the exportation of all of you back to Tuskadel, unless there is another volunteer to take you in." 

The plane's door opens, and Ms. Preston gives us a shaky smile. "Behave," she says sternly, but I have a feeling that she is nervous about returning to Tuskadel more than she is worried about us; not that I blame her. 

A black van picks us up from outside the plane, and the chaeffuer loads our belongings into the trunk. Xavier and I sit in the back, and Tate and Cole in the two captain seats behind the driver. 

"Did Ms. Preston say where we are?" I ask as we drive away, glancing anxiously outside. It looks like mid-day, and the tall, vibrant palm trees make me wonder if we are on a tropical island. As sick as it may have been, suddenly this whole relocation seemed less like a safety measure, and more like a vacation; I chastised myself for finding it all rather exciting. 

But it was. I was somewhere new, and somewhere I knew Hailey would die to be. She loved the idea of soaking up sun and surfing in the Pacific. And I suddenly wished she was here with me. 

"She didn't say, but maybe you can read from the license plates," Tate suggested. I squint my eyes at a car traveling the opposite way as it passes us. 

"California," I mutter to myself. "We're in America."

"America?" Cole asks, seeming displeased. I can't imagine why; the palm trees were glowing, people were milling about on the sidewalks with t-shirts on, even though it was mid-December. Back home, it was unbearable to be outside even with layers and layers of jackets. 

"What's so bad about being in America?" Xavier asks, leaning toward  him. 

"America?" he repeats again, bewildered. "Home of the free, land of the brave? Half of the people here think our parents are oppressive sadists, and the other half read Lockier like his writings are a new edition of the bible. We're not safe here."

We pass a group of carefree joggers, and I can't even imagine these people being a threat to any of us. 

"They aren't going to know who we are," Tate reasons. 

"They won't know who we are," Cole says to Tate ", but there were pictures of Aubrey-Wren on  practically every news station." My stomach drops; that was true. After the bullet missed me and hit Mr. Broward, the news had made a huge scandal out of it, perfectly bewildered at the idea that they were even willing to harm children. I had tried not to watch it, but even with me avoiding the TV, I couldn't help but catch a few glimpses.