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A.N: 1k views!! I can't believe it - I honestly thought I'd struggle to get 100, let alone 1000. Thank you so much to everyone who's taken time to read my story ❤️❤️ On that note, here's chapter 10!

~Lia

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Bea realised that before she could travel anywhere she would need to get her bike back - if it was still where she left it, that was. She'd kill Five if it had been stolen; he was the one who had promised her that it wouldn't be, after all. 

The only downside to this plan was how to haul herself to the doughnut shop. It may have been a five minute drive away, but by foot it could take her anywhere between twenty and twenty-five minutes. She could run there...Nope. Never in a million years, she thought to herself. 

Rather than wasting any more time on what could be a time sensitive situation, Bea made the decision to push on through the Academy's mahogany entrance and start the trek through the city. Before she could leave, however, something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. She noticed that her clothes were no longer on the floor; instead, they had been folded and placed on a chair in the Academy's grand foyer, most likely by Pogo. It wasn't just her clothes being moved that grabbed her, though, it was the photographs peeking out of her jeans' pocket. Bea slid them out, smiling at the faces of her brother and her Klaus. She carefully placed them in her jacket's inside pocket, close to her heart, hoping to keep them safe. 

As she passed through the wrought iron gates and onto the streets at a motivated pace, Bea barely had a second to react before she found herself being mowed down - quite literally - with great force. She ended up sprawled out onto the concrete, the palms of both her hands scraped and bleeding, and her smartphone cracked from the force of hitting the sidewalk next to her. Looking up, she saw her assailant a meter away holding his head in his hands and cursing loudly.

"Are you insane?" she called out. "Use your damn eyes!"

The man (or really boy) looked up, clearly aggravated. "Yo, this is a public sidewalk, you idiot - you can't just jump in front of people like that!" 

As her anger intensified, Bea clambered to her feet, feeling the palms of her hands begin to dampen. A wonderful side effect of her manipulation over water was the ability to heal light cuts and scrapes by submerging the injured area in the element. In this instance, as there was no pool of water nearby, Bea's body naturally accumulated the liquid by condensing it from the air. She had no recognition of doing so; it was completely natural to her. 

Palms now healed, she leaned down slowly and grabbed her phone, staring intently at the crack defacing its once pristine screen. Slipping it with careful precision into her jacket pocket, she raised her eyes back to her assailant's. In her right hand, the water had begun to gather en masse - and the boy had noticed. As the liquid began to take the form of a small, yet very sharp knife, his eyes widened. 

"W-what are you? S-some kind of freak?"

Bea rolled her eyes and frowned in disapproval. "Wrong choice of words, kid. Now," she paused briefly, "give me the skateboard."

If it were possible, his eyes widened a fraction more - his youthful face now resembling that of an unfortunate deer, caught in the doom of its killer's headlights. 

"Hand it over, now!" she barked. She may not have been an overall intimidating woman - typically all smiles and laughs and kind words - but Phoebe Hargreeves could flip the switch to terrifying when it benefitted her the most.

The petrified teen threw the offending object at the redhead, before scrambling over his heels as he sped away from her. Well, I guess that wasn't a total disaster, Bea thought as she righted the upside-down skateboard, it sure beats walking. It seemed luck was on her side that day; she could only hope for it to last. 

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