Unpredictable

Chapter 22--- Emmetrophia

(Edited)

AN: School's been killing me. Drowning in homework is an understatement.

<Update to AN: I wrote that last one years ago and it still applies today what the heck... except I deleted the part about this being a filler chapter because I'm editing, and like any editor, completely rewrote it

Also making things private was a MAJOR MISTAKE now I can't un-private things according to Wattpad rules and that just sucks. So oh well. If you follow me you just get to see how awful the first draft of this was. I don't encourage it>

<AN: (2/9/18) So Wattpad got rid of private chapters and yeah so now they're just all gone>

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Emmetrophia (Noun)

Meaning: The normal condition of the eye; perfect vision

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I pace in front of my boss's office door. My mind should be on the job: that is to say, rejecting the job. I'm just returning the file so they can assign it elsewhere.

Instead of preparing an immaculate rejection speech, I fret over Kit. Is she safe? Is she ok? I woke her up before I left, but she fell right back asleep. I piled some protein bars on the table for breakfast, along with a note (in case she forgot) that I would be back before lunch at most. 

What if Katara gets her? Kit's a clear line to me; I wouldn't put it past Katara to snatch her.

That last thought buckles my knees. I halt and re-stabilize.

I need to head home. I turn on my heel to face the exit.

The door slides open. I sigh and scan the long grey hallway. I know it would take to be 12 steps till I'm at the tip of the steep stairs. I rotate around. It's only five to the Director's desk.

I tuck the folder under my arm. I pad inside, every nerve tingling at the site of my former boss. Every planned word dies on my tongue. The Director brooded behind his sleek desk, typing on the interactive glass top. "You done with your early life crisis yet? Because I've got a job that---"

I drop the files on his desk. "Not my work, not my problem."

Simple, straight to the point.

The Director stalls; his fingers twitch and straighten, not even brushing the keyboard. He scans me over with one dull eye. He leans back in his chair. He crosses his arms, and his eyebrow arches up as his lip slides down. His voice is even and solid, like well-spread pavement. "Then why'd you come in your uniform?"

"..."

This is why I needed to prepare something.

The Director pinches his brow. "Look, kid, I---"

The door slides open behind me. Light footsteps, but with enough weight to them that the quiet results from training. Male. About six feet tall, maybe an inch shorter. "This is the time you told me, right? Or should I come later?"

Lloyd?!

I go rigid and glare at the Director, refusing to spin and face the ninja. If Lloyd's here, where are the rest? Where's Jezebel? They can't be that far behind!

The Director, on the other hand, relaxes. His shoulders drop, and his hand waves Lloyd over. The Director glances at me with eyes like wet ice.

Oh, no. The Director is smiling.