Team Foster-Keefe United✔

Part Four

Sophie's POV:

All of us waywards watched as the new wayward walked through the fog, whistling. The wayward let out a totally manly scream when he was launched upside down into the air, rope around his ankles.

"Well, that was unexpected," he said, his tone full of amusement. Why did his voice sound so familiar?

"Silence, wayward! This is a test to see where you belong. Find a way out of the rope," the blue coach's nasal voice rang out. The boy hung for a good minute before he curled up to try and undo the knot. I couldn't do that to save my life. No matter how much the boy tried, he couldn't undo the knot, saying curses I would dare repeat. Giving up on the knot, he started wiggling around, and he eventually slipped down, with the cost of his pants. Snickers and giggles erupted from the crowd.

"Oy, he has little gulon on his undies!" A male wayward called out, triggering more laughter.

"Enough!" the Ambis (purple) coach snapped. Feeling bad for the boy, I levitated up to the hanging rope, retrieved his pants, and dropped them down to the boy. The trousers landed on his face, and another wave of snickers passed through the waywards. As I come down, suppressing a giggle of my own, the boy gave me two thumbs up and pulled on his trousers.

The Ambis coach stepped forward with purple paint coated on both of her hands.

"You're in Ambis. Your indecision and inclusiveness prove that." With that, she slapped her hands on both of the boy's shoulders.

"You enjoyed that way too much," the boy snarked. I could practecly hear the smirk he must have had on his face.

"Yes, I did," the Ambis coach replied coldly. "Find a space in the Ambis area and get ready for levitating."

The boy chose a spot next to me, making me a bit uncomfortable at the sudden closeness. Here, having friends and closeness was frowned upon, and everyone avoided each other. Except for Tam and Linh, who were stuck together by the hip. The boy shifted away from me, as if knowing what I was feeling. I took a closer look at the boy, and saw that he had an empathy patch.

There was only one empath that I knew that felt my emotions without physical contact. I shrug off the thought. The boy was probably nervous, which is why he shifted.

"Up," the coaches ordered in unison, levitating themselves a foot into the air. All the waywards lifted into the air steadily, the boy a few seconds behind, and his levitation was shakey. Everyone's was on the first day.

"Move," the coaches demanded. I decided to walk in place, having done this thousands of times.

"How do you do that?" The boy whisper-yelled to me, flailing his arms in the air, looking like a chicken.

"Talking isn't allowed. Do you want us to get in trouble?" I transmit, seeing the boy flinch in surprise. The boy gave me a slow nod- letting me know that he gave me permission to go into his mind. I stay on the surface, giving him as much privacy as possible.

"Trouble is my specialty," the boy retorted smugly.

"Whatever. Just continue with the task."

"Why so serious? Your serious vibes are killing my fun ones."

"My 'serious vibes'?"

"Your emotions are strong. I could feel them without touching you. . . Just like old times, right Foster?"

I froze midair, my jaw slack. "Keefe?"

"In the flesh."

How did he get here so fast? Much less, get excepted into Exillium?! Was he expelled from Foxfire?!?!

"I just got suspended," I heard him say. Oops, still in his head.

"For how long?" I asked, my mind reeling.

"Three days. I launched a stink bomb on one of my mentor's desk."

I was still in shock, not fully processing that Keefe was actually here, with me. You know what, this isn't happening here. I grab Keefe's arm and lightleap us to the Crooked Forest. My eyes were watering, I barely kept the tears at bay. I didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or yell at him. Crying won in the end.

Keefe took off our masks and wrapped me in a hug. I bury my head in the crook of his neck, trying to keep my sobs in. He had no idea how much I missed him, how homesick I was, how lonely the passed 4 years had been.

Keefe just kept rubbing my back, whispering sweet nothings. Once my crying had stopped, I slowly looked up at Keefe, butterflies filling my stomach with the way he was looking at me. Keefe started playing with my hair, his left arm still around my waist.

"Why didn't you give up?" I whisper, my voice slightly raspy after my crying session, my eyes trapped in his gaze. After all, everyone else eventually gave up.

"Because, not even death could kill the great Sophie Foster," Keefe teased, his thumb wiping away a stray tear. I let out a weak laugh, our faces slowly getting closer together until his lips were on mine.

We started out slow, getting used to each other's rhythm. Once we were in sync, the butterflies in my stomach intensified, and I sighed, deepening the kiss. I run my hands through his hair, playing with the silky texture, tugging softly. Keefe groaned, slowly breaking off the kiss. We stared at each other, dopey grins on our faces. With one hand still in Keefe's hair, I drew him in for another hug, nuzzling my cheeks against his shoulder and sighing as I watched the sun set over the forest.

I was finally home.