The Skylar Experiment : Dead Ending (second draft)

Chapter Sixty-One - For Better or Worse

Sup, my dudes! Hope you had a great week :D. I haven't posted in a while, so here's a 3k word chapter for you guys! Buckle up, because shit's gonna get real soon. 

Important note may 7th 2019: I modified chapter 59 and 60. 59's rewrite doesn't change much, but if you read 60 recently after it was posted, it might be good to recheck it so you can follow chapter 62 that'll be posted sometime later. The original was too straightforward, so I switched it  up a little. 

Enough rambling XD. Enjoy!

RILEY

ROARS THUNDERED throughout the hall like an ice-cold shock. Hands flew to the ceiling in a boom of cheers. It all struck me with the force of a brick, and I stumbled back. Ben's hand stopped the recoil.

My heart raced like a frightened animal's. My name rolled off dozens of tongues in the vicinity. I stood there with my bag slung over my shoulder, not the slightest clue how to behave. I heard excited 'welcome backs' from the lockers, and saw relieved smiles.

It has been a week and a half since the school crisis. After the hospital, I had no choice but to keep in my room and skip classes. The morning I woke up to feeling fine and my wound healed, Heather finally gave me the green light.

For a brief second, the packed corridor vanished until there was only the walls, the floor, and Chuck waving his gun with tears rushing out of his eyes. It happened so fast it was obscure in my memories. His limbs shook. He was so close to giving up, to collapse. The front doors clanged and time sped up until I lost touch with reality. Faces and screams all around; chaos, the stench of fear and blood, voices telling me to hold still...

"Hey," Ben spoke, leaning his head at my side. "You good?"

I blinked and stared at the crowd, who continued to applaud. Like I was a hero.

I nodded. He steered me through the mass. A girl in my art class congratulated me on surviving. In my path, others did the same, but I didn't have the guts to respond. My throat dried when we passed by Chuck's locker, now empty.

Ben slumped against Luc's locker as I opened mine. The guy was off fixing stuff with Raymond. I offered to help, but I quickly figured I didn't have any skills for the tracker they were cooking up. And I ought to cover accumulated homework if I wanted to graduate this year.

None of us were happy about Luc's decision. He never warned us even if he had no other option. I could tell on Ben and Devin's faces the fact festered in their minds towards a horrible impact miles outside of our control. The best thing to do was focus on distance, hide in plain sight, and watch out for Lauren or black SUVs. 

The boys' plan better work. We'd all lost too much already.

"If anyone asks, just say you're wearing contacts," Ben said. "It never fails."

I squinted at my eyes in the small mirror, assessing the unusual brightness within them. As soon as I emerged from the fever, it changed permanently. They shimmered and deepened in shade, swallowing the light. It looked unreal. I feared people would notice and pay attention. What if someone asked me to take off my contacts?

"You know it's a good thing, right?"

"All I see is an issue waiting to happen," I answered and stared away from the mirror.

Ben jabbed my shoulder. "It means you're one step closer to reaching your full potential. Bright eyes mean energized and ready for action. Pale ones mean weak and depleted, like after we spend an hour wasting our abilities."