Don't give up on me ✓

[50] Beaten & Bruised

Chapter 50: Beaten & Bruised

Blood tastes like iron. It covered my teeth and I rubbed my jaw, but a nasty bruise was about to form there.

"You did well, kid," Mohan wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

I winced, and he let go. I used my staff to limp up to dinner. My opponent, number 55, was in much better shape. He practically danced up to the dining room, but at least I hadn't collapsed before the end of the fight.

I mean, that's how low the expectations for me are here.

"She won't survive a minute of our trials. We might as well use her as a sacrifice or something," number 23 told Mohan, intending me to overhear.

I couldn't argue with that. I had been beaten up badly by a trainee with a staff.

"The fight's over," Mohan shut him up, and told me, "Like I said, you did good, kid. They've been training their whole lives."

"It doesn't matter, since we'll all be on the same trip," I said.

And some of us won't make it.

Mohan looked at me strangely. He hadn't expected me to know that much. They had kept me in the dark. Mohan and Mrs Maythorne had not explained the risks to me.

Hugo had told me about it; the journey we all had to take across worlds in the new year.

Mohan nodded, accepting that I must be learning more than he expected. "You're right. Trained or not trained, the day is coming."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I asked Nate to meet me outside after dark.  I wanted to talk away from the Manor's watchful eyes and ears.  

Sometimes, the gargoyles seem like they can actually see. 

And now, Nate was seeing me.  Beaten and bruised, with a black eye likely forming.  And somehow, he was completely unscathed.  

 How could he look so unaffected? So clean cut, without a scratch on him. 

"What is it, Georgia?" he asked me, as if he could sense the emotional hell I was going through.

"How could you not tell me?!" I exclaimed, feeling a cold lash of wind whip against me, "I thought this place was a cult when I first came, and maybe it is. Are they going to ask me to sacrifice myself?!" 

Nate stayed quiet, looking at me. I could see that he was trying to read my emotions, trying to understand what I was going through. He's been in this world for so long, he stopped asking these questions. 

"Am I going to die, Nate?!" I yelled at him.

Tears were brimming in my eyes, turning to ice at the first touch of the cold night air. 

Metaphorically speaking.

"No," he shook his head, his voice sound torn, "You're not going to die."

"Can you promise me that?" He couldn't. I knew he couldn't. 

And I knew it would break him, because he wants to be the strong one.

"No, I can't promise that," he sighed, "Of course I can't promise that. But I will do the best I can, even though it may not be enough. We are all in danger, by virtue of who we are."

"So we can travel between worlds?"

"Every decade, the gates between the worlds weaken and scepters can make their First Visit. Travel through the space-time continuum, causes our whole bodies disintegrate and reform. Our atoms split apart before coming back together."

That sounds painful. 

"It's the worst pain you can imagine and some people don't make it. Their bodies stay disintegrated, lost in space."

Lonely and painful.

"That's what I can't protect you against," he said, "That journey is something we make by ourselves. All I can do is help train you."

"How do you have so much faith that you'll make it then?" I asked, realizing that we were all at risk. 

Hugo, Zane, Brianna, Kaya and Nate. What were the odds that we would all make it alive?

"Are there any stats on success rates of these trips?" I asked another question.

He shook his head, a sly smile on his face. 

"You know it's crazy," I shook my head, "I don't even know what we are but I know that I am only free of my conscience when I am with you." I stepped towards him, feeling the wind whip my hair now. "Let's forget everything else." 

He stepped back.

I stared at him, surprised. He's never stepped back before.

"I want you," he said, "But not like this."

What did he mean? Had I pushed him away so far?

"It's not fun and games anymore, Val," he said, "Don't try to distract yourself. Trust me. I've done every drug in the world to get out of my own head. But it doesn't help. We need to face this."

No fun.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Your face!" Cleo gasped dramatically.

"Your eyes!" Isla joined in.

"Thanks guys," I sighed. I knew I looked bad. Black eye, puffed up cheek, broken lip. And I still came to school the next day.

Dedication.

My voice still wasn't 100% from my cold. So, all in all, I looked beautiful. A beautiful black eye, puffed cheek and broken lip. Make-up had nothing on me.

"What are you going to do about the winter formal?" Sid asked me with genuine concern.

I feel like I have bigger problems than winter formal.

A boy responded, coming up from behind her, "I'm going to take you with me."

It was Beckett. He and Sid had gone on a couple dates now and, based on the way he was holding her, I'd say they were moving along just fine.

"I'm not talking about you, silly," Sid laughed as they held hands and kissed, "I'm talking about her."

His face visibly contorted when he saw mine. "Oh. Hey. Good to meet you."

We've met.

"It's Georgia, you twit!" Isla snapped, knowing he was just making it worse.

"It is?" he inspected me closer, "Is that really you under that? Man, what happened to your face?"

Sid lightly slapped him, "She got robbed last night. That's not something we joke about."

"No, no," Beckett agreed, "I'm not joking. If that's Georgia, then this is a damn tragedy. Georgia was hot."

"Excuse me?" Sid crossed her arms across her chest, "Do you want to repeat that?"

"Not particularly, no."

We laughed. I guess Beckett had his moments.

In the midst of all my training, the world continued as normal. High school gossip and dances. Tests and heartbreaks. My heart was bruised, I won't lie. 

I don't know what Nate and I have, but I know I've been living for it. The ups and downs. The weekend in Paris and our sneaking around the Manor. 

They wouldn't accept us together. And now, he wouldn't either. 

I lost my best friend and, in trying to get him back, I lost the boy I liked. Maybe Mrs Maythorne would have kicked me out of the house and maybe I should trust Jesper's instinct that Nate wasn't good... but maybe not. 

A high school dance was the last thing I needed.  Nate and Jesper would be there.  Maybe with dates of their own.