M3RG3

Chapter 13

"We have to talk." I had determined my role. I was to be the sassy teenager who didn't give a care about the world.

"About what?" I examined my fingernails with uttermost interest. Kyle took another step forward, his fuming presence dominating over every other thing I was focusing on. Slowly, I lifted my eyes to stare at him, keeping my expression as blank as a slate.

"Do you really want me to list out every single little thing that we have to talk about?" Kyle clenched his fingers together, his anger brewing to a maximum. He was frustrated, annoyed, irritated, and many other negative emotions all rolled into one. I hastily shoved my hands into my pockets, keeping my voice playful and uncaring. "Go ahead."

"For starters, you practiced in the simulation for 6 hours straight. When you began acting strangely during survival lesson, I thought something was up. Everything became more suspicious when you told me to leave you alone. After opening your improperly locked door," Kyle inhaled deeply, seconds from having an internal meltdown. "I watched you stand on the edge of the balcony and jump off like you were committing suicide." He stared at me, his eyes accusing, yet there was something more behind his anger: Concern, for my well being.

"30 minutes later, the fire alarm sounded. I followed your group to find you, slightly winded, but safe and sound with your friends. And right now, you come back at midnight, wearing outdoor clothes and splattered in paint." As expected, Kyle had left out the part where he searched frantically for me across the entire Institute. I fidgeted with my fingers, rearranging my expression so I appeared bored and irritated by his speech.

I let out a rude yawn, exaggerating my expression to annoy him even further. "Look, I'm really sleepy tonight. So let me through and let me get my 7 hours of beauty sleep." I sauntered towards my room, jamming my thumb under the sensor.

"People will know that you've done something tonight." He warned me, his features stretched across his skin like a tight coil of wire. I knew what he was talking about. The thumb sensor would register that I opened the door during midnight while everyone was asleep. However, I could deal with that problem tomorrow.

"And right now, I'm too tired to care. Goodnight." I stormed into the room and slammed the door into his face, making sure I locked the door properly this time.

Lyla was awake and drawing next to a sleeping Natasha. Something about the process just seemed entirely mesmerizing and peculiar.

"You're left handed." The subtle difference was rarely noticed but mouth-gaping once pointed out. The Republic expected everyone to be using their right hand as their dominant hand. Having someone using their left hand was often scoffed at or sometimes forbidden.

"I was born this way," She shrugged and continued sketching on her pad. "As the Republic says, it's a deformity."

I was silent, marveling her extraordinary artwork. The shades and tints moved across the artwork naturally, creating form and movement simultaneously. Moreover, I could detect the lulling and soothing atmosphere through the soft shades and lines of her work. "It's pretty."

"But not pretty enough." She erased sections of the drawing again, making the paper even more crumpled. "It's never pretty enough."

"What about that sketch you weren't willing to show us before?" I questioned once more, hoping she would answer me.

"You should take a shower," She replied softly, not wanting to dwell on the subject. "You smell of the Wastelands."

"You should get some sleep." I grabbed the few clean clothes that were neatly folded on my bed as I tip toed towards the bathroom. Natasha had fallen asleep ages ago. Her golden hair was splayed across the pillow, gleaming under the dim light and creating a soft halo. I had never seen anyone appear more angelic than her.