[1] ALEXA, and her hell ✓ [Editing]

Like A Ghost ✓

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"death is not the opposite of life, but a part of it." —Haruki Murakami
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The 31st of January, Year 2024.

     "Alexa, have you unpacked your packages yet?" Petro asks, clicking annoyingly on the end of his pen.

     The drowsy girl yawns, shaking her head.

     He laughs dryly, "Right, you were busy last night."

     Her face immediately alights with red as he looks at her pointedly.

     "You were very loud, child."

     "We're just experimenting!" She exclaims, trying to explain quickly as her usually chill tone of voice becomes decibels higher, "I–I'm a teenager. And... And, you taught us about hormones... Those hormones...? You are correct..."

     "I know." Petro smirks, lifting an eyebrow at her embarrassment, before noticing how she just literally stated that she disregarded his lessons about sexual hormones until now. "Excuse me? Do you think what I teach is a fraud?"

     He's truly offended.

     "Well..." She giggles at his face, "...this is a martial school. We fight. I—"

     He clears his throat abruptly, "I have a degree in English and the Sciences. Don't belittle my skills, child. You wound me and my PhD."

     'What about Mathematics?' None spoke of the forbidden subject.

     "I'm sorry. I apologize." She tells him repeatedly, but the laughter that bubbles past her lips says otherwise.

     For Petro, making her laugh feels oddly good and he wants to continue to make her laugh like this—on his own—by his own efforts. He wants to give her what he forgot to give his daughter, while also turning her into what his daughter couldn't be and he'll need her to need him for his ideas to come alive.

     All these dreams...

     These delusional thoughts...

     Everything would be so perfect, without the blind kid in the picture.

     "Go open your stuff and do whatever. Just be there for class later." He states and she nods, getting ready to leave.

     "Use protection." Petro adds without looking up.

     She spins so fast she almost topples over her own feet, shouting, "We're not having sex!"

—

     Phillipeño doesn't hold back on his heightened affection for Alexa. He touches her whenever he can, smiling and being a tease with his words. However, she keeps brushing him off, not liking that everyone keeps glancing at them. She was already in the spotlight for her skills in fighting, she doesn't want to be spoken about for any other reasons.

     "Stop staring at me!" She bites out in a whisper, standing a feet away from him.

     He shrugs, pursing his lips. "I'm blind."

     "Right." She coughs into her hand and he chuckles, before she trudges away at the yell of her name.

     Her sweet smile slips; she rolls her shoulders and shakes out her legs, loosening up her joints for the announced match. Her opponent, a tall, freckled face redhead, stretches while approaching the mat with his eyes set.

     The fight begins and he attacks first on the belief that he'll have the upper hand as a result.

     This is something Alexa is always glad for. Light on her feet, she dodges his punches effortlessly, also making openings for him to learn and adjust his pattern. The spar is the same as all she's been through, except the part where this guy is better than the others.

It's going well—tantalizingly so—until Katya rushes by the studio in a blur.

     Petro snaps at Alexa to focus, but before anyone can react, she's racing out of the room after her friend. She stops in the hallway, panting, eyes flicking from left to right for signs of Katya Sharpe.

     There's none. She just appeared then disappeared.

     Like a ghost.

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