The Enemy Beside Me + The Liar Beside Me (Book 1 and 2)

Chapter 4

HE CERTAINLY KNOWS WHERE I LIVE! As we trekked our way back here, I expected someone to jump us. No one did, thank God.

The flat is bog-standard, I tell him as we go inside. A voice is yelling at me to shove him out, that I could be inviting a burglar or worse...wait, what is worse than a burglar? Oh yeah, a cannibal burglar. Canniglar. But my curiosity is stronger than my survival instinct. Jeffrey Dahmer would've loved my gullible buttocks.

The kid nods and peels off his jumper. I was wrong. He doesn't have a bowl haircut. Thank goodness. I'm not particularly kind towards kids who've got that cut. I have the Taper Fade haircut; he's got the Fringe haircut. Typical. I shouldn't have expected more.

'OK, we're here. So you might want to start talking?' I cringe inwardly. I sound like a copper. Nobody likes a copper.

The kid closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them, he crosses his arms over his stomach. 'Believe me when I say I am not fully knowledgeable of how your Zone entertains your guests, but I do know you could at least offer me a cuppa. Some biscuits would be nice too.'

I stretch my lips into a big smile, hoping he gets the message of how much I dislike him. He's got a point, I know, but I can't help but be wary around him. What do you call it again? Instinct? Something like that. But I don't think that's the word I'm looking for.

As I dig deeper inside my brain, asking myself why this guy irks me, I hear him shuffle behind me.

Ready with my fists, I see he's taking off his worn-out shoes. It was quick, but I know I saw his tiny thin fingers peeking through the long sleeves of his shirt. They're plastered. Now, it's none of my business, so I hurriedly make a beeline to the kitchen to prepare tea.

'Were you planning on assaulting me?' he calls out, to which I answer with a pathetic laugh. 'No way, man. It was just a joke! Sit.'

'Indeed, you are quite odd, mister. You loathe me, and the next thing I know, you attempt uninteresting humour.'

'Hey now, "loathe" is such a strong word. I don't appreciate that. Now, would you please relax there?' And shut the hell up.

I open the cupboard and oh! I didn't know Ally and Haru had got many nibbles! 'We've got...erm... there's some, sort of wrapped puffs with a cartoon cat.' I bet Mum would love them.

'That's Umaibo. Please let me have some.' Might as well try it too.

'What kind of tea do you take?'

He hums. I bet he's doing that thing with his finger and chin again. 'It does not matter to me. Whatever you can offer is fine.' I say OK and select jasmine tea. I'm not into tea, to be honest, but I'm not going to let him know it. For some reason, I want him to think this is my daily drink.

As I wait for the kettle to boil, I watch the hands of the clock. It's still afternoon, but it feels like late at night with how knackered I am. It's 'cause of the flight, I tell myself.

Yawning, I think back to my old school—it feels weird to call it "old" when I haven't started in the new one yet—to take my mind off the kid. I wonder what they're doing. Do they think of me? I snort. Who am I kidding? You don't make real friends in secondary school. At least, that's what I know. Picture it as a jungle. You never want to be at the bottom of the triangle—predators, stupid kids who are neither predators nor prey, so they're easily forgotten and then preys—trust me.

But then, I've got some whom I could call "friend-friends". You know, mates who roll with you outside school, share inside jokes with you, do stuff for you, etc., etc., etc. Sometimes I deliberately don't remember their names. I dropped a clanger of calling Harold 'Harry' before. To be fair, Harry was the fat, bald dude, and Harold was the thin, bald dude. So hey, sue me.

'I believe our water is ready to be served,' the kid says, still not moving from the dining area. And I believe you're right. The water is ready.

* * * * * * *

I give him his tea, hiding my smile as I wait for his reaction. The cup is baby blue with drawings of cartoon characters I don't recognise. Ally had told me before that Haru had a niece who liked that cup. I know it's kinda insensitive of me to use the cup, but it's the only one that looks cartoonish. So, I'm sorry, whoever you were, little girl.

To my dismay, he blows the steam off and sips his drink with his eyes closed. 'Thank you.' He puts down the cup.

Why did I even try? I just wanted to annoy him by giving him something made for babies, but as I can see now, he's got no time for it. I know I'm immature, but there's no way a child is this mature.

Get a grip, Jax. He's here to tell you about...whatever's going on here.

'So,' I say, crossing and uncrossing my legs. I hope my school does have decent chairs and decent tables. And by that, I mean real chairs. Chairs were invented, so no one had to sit or kneel on the floor! 'You were saying about me being in danger?'

Lacing his fingers together on his lap, he locks his eyes on mine. I breathe deeply, and I don't know why. Something about his gaze terrifies me, yet I can't look away. 'Let me clarify one thing: You are not in imperilment. Follow the rules, and you will be all right. Even if you did violate a rule, you would be sent back to Zone...' he gestures to me.

'3,' I say.

'3.' He nods. 'However, whilst you will not be harmed, for a law protects anyone who has decided to visit or settle here, you will experience discrimination. Of course, this does not apply to everyone. The younger ones, for example, are far more welcoming. Also, anyone who works for tourism is required to smile and be polite, no matter what they think about you.'

Oh. Is that why everyone at the airport seemed too friendly? Is that why the bus driver almost shredded his skin by smiling too much? Shit. And I thought he loved my manners!

'May I say you're quite blessed you were born with light skin. You should see how some treat those with a darker complexion.' I raise my eyebrows, letting him know I'm fully inted. He looks away as he sips more tea. When he's done, his eyes bury deep in my skull again. 'They still treat them as human beings. But not enough.'

'Not enough?'

The corners of his lips turn upward as though he's about to smile, but then decides against it. 'It is unfair if you think about it. It was the white supremacists who had started this all and yet...' he says, shaking his head. He then stands up. 'Thank you for the tea. I will eat Umaibo later.'

'That's it? No precaution or something? You said my life could be in danger if I don't consider my next move!'

'Please forget it. My English isn't perfect, so my message may have come across as ambiguous.'

'You—'

'I have given sufficient information as far as I'm concerned. Now, I must go.'

I pull him back, quite roughly. A groan slips from his lips. 'Sorry, but I've got one more question: If what you're telling is true, then why did my uncle—'

'You should ask them since it is a family matter. Usually, a family member clarifies everything. Again, I must go.' Usually? His last sentence has left me dazed that he slinks from my grip.

The kid is at the doorway when I regain my senses. 'Hey! You can't leave. I'm still confused.'

'It is not my problem,' he says, wearing those ugly trainers. How could he? Half an hour ago, he acted as if he cared about my safety, but now my confusion isn't his problem?

'You're messing with me.'

'No.' Such a simple answer that sounds too honest. The kid puts on the white jumper and shields his face with its hood. 'Goodbye.'

Giving up, as I don't think he'll give me more answers, I wave my hand lazily. 'Yeah, bye...What's your name?'

He pockets his hands in his jumper, ignoring me, facing the door, opening it with one hand. I want to ask him about his fingers, but too many questions can overwhelm one person.

I watch him. Half of his body is outside when he says, 'Uchiyama. My name is Uchiyama Eien.'

Caught off guard, I reply, 'My name's Jaxon Evans. Call me Jax,' almost stuttering. I hear him hum as though he approves of it.

Then he leaves.