Adapt (I)

TJR Garcia © 2020

SCARLET

“Phoenix, get off me!”

A wet tongue slides over my cheek, leaving a trail of sticky wet saliva.

I burrow deeper into my cocoon of bed covers. “Go away, Phoenix!”

He lets out a yelp then starts to scratch at the blankets, attempting to shred the nest I had built after coming home from early morning training with Trent.

I hear threads begin to tear. “Arh! Alright, I’m up, I’m up!”

I fling back the covers, my eyes still closed. I shouldn’t have gone back to bed.

Looking through only the slits between my eyelids, I find some clothes for school. I don’t think that the combat pants and the singlet really go together, but I don’t change them.

Sleepily, I assemble a breakfast consisting of oats, a strawberry and a bit of cold bacon I had put in the fridge few days ago. I get out one of the shank bones I had frozen and throw it in the muddy backyard for a more than eager Phoenix. He bounces through the puddles, hastily gnawing at the remnants of meat. With a smile, I lock up my house on my way out.

As I step out onto the front porch I am confronted with a sight that I am sure many girls would dream of.

Unfortunately, I am questioning whether I am actually in a nightmare. Every hair on my body is bristled, but that is something I can deal with. It’s his face that I can’t stand. My smile fades to a grimace.

Boe stands just outside my rusty front fence, the heavy raindrops marking his jacket and slicking his hair to his skin. He is waiting for me. Without acknowledging him, I walk over to my Jeep, throw my school bag inside and start it. Flicking on the windscreen wipers, I begin to reverse out. I have to pause to check the street, giving Boe just enough time to leap into the passenger seat.

“Good morning.”

“Fuck off.”

“Is that really the way to greet the person that once saved your life?”

“I will kill you, your children and your children’s children if you don’t get your wet ass out of my car.”

“Good thing I don’t have kids.”

I narrow my eyes. “You have until the count of zero to get out before I cut off every one of your fingers and toes.”

“I just want a lift to school.”

I reach for my dagger.

“Okay, I clearly hit a nerve last night, and I am sorry for that. I just need you to understand that for me, this is just a job. And without your cooperation, you are making my job difficult.”

I tighten my grip on the hilt.

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Okay! Alright, I’m going.” He pops open the door and hops out, slamming it behind him. Without even checking for cars, I swing out into the street and speed to school.

~

Mr. Roger, the head teacher of science, tips his hat to me as I walk into the school grounds. He is too nice to be a schoolteacher. I wonder what he wanted to be when he grew up. I bet it wasn’t this.

I trudge through the school, trying to avoid the puddles but I can’t evade them all. My sneakers end up rimmed with water, soaking to my socks. I grind my teeth together. Is there a worse feeling than wet socks?

As I walk through school, I pick up on the general unease wafting in the air like smoke. Everyone at school is aflutter with whispers about the party last night. All talking about something in particular… An altercation between a couple? No, that wasn’t it... but it is interesting enough to have them all talking.

What’s more, every set of eyes I met seems to quickly redirect, as if I scare them... no, it is sympathetic. What the hell?

I decide that I’m not going to English, because I don’t need to add that to the list of things that make me want to jump off a cliff today. Instead, I find a bench on the far side of the school, near the bush land that skirts the perimeter of campus, and draw.

I’m not very good at drawing, but I enjoy it. I try to draw the ragged outline of the Eucalyptus planted just inside the school grounds, but it just looks like a squiggled line.

I can’t stop thinking about what Boe said.

‘I know... about your parents.’

‘This is just a job.’

If it was just a job, why did he make it so personal? And how did he know? There is no way he could have. He took a stab in the dark, and it paid off. Now he is in my head.

I slam my book shut, smoke fuming out of my ears. My phone buzzes in my pocket. I try to ignore it, but curiosity gets the better of me.

It is Caron.

-Hey honey, are you okay? I heard about what happened last night.

I run my tongue over my teeth.

-What did you hear?

A second later my phone buzzes again.

-About what happened between you and that sleaze...

I frown.

-What?

-I’ll talk when I see you next. Are you going to be here for recess?

-Yeah

-TTYL

I roll my eyes. That is a chat I am not looking forward to.

I decide to skip Math as well, opting to just sit and think about how I can get rid of Boe. I will go insane if he stays much longer. After breaking a few pencils, I come up with a solution.

The bell rings, and I gather my stuff so that I can meet Caron at our usual spot on the grass.

“So what? You’re better than class now?” Caron jokes.

I shrug. “I always have been.”

She laughs, but her smile quickly drops from joyous to sad. A sad, sympathetic smile.

I sigh. “What did you hear?”

She leans forward, so close that only her and I can hear our conversation. “What did he try to do? Did he try to drug you or something?”

“What?” I ask, confusion etched into every feature of my face.

Caron scans my expression, trying to detect some sort of hidden meaning. When she doesn’t find what she is looking for, she drops her head. “Scarlet, everyone thinks that Boe tri-”

Then a shout echoes through the school. People begin to gravitate toward the bottom of the central stairs. Without a word, I jump up and follow the current of students.

In the middle of the ring of students is two boys yelling at each other.

“Dude, you’re a scum bag.” Eric spits at his much taller opponent.

At a closer look, I realize that Boe is the opposition. “What the hell are you talking about?” He retorts, his shoulders puffing up.

The vein in Eric’s forehead looks as if it is about to burst. “Everyone knows what you tried with Scarlet last night. That doesn’t go down well here.”

What ?

“I didn’t try any-”

Eric grabs the collar of Boe’s jacket. Boe’s nostrils flare as he tries to calm himself down.

I must stop this. I may be able to beat Boe in a fight, but Eric won’t be able to. Boe still has a lot more strength than Eric, even though Eric is built like a quarter back.

And Boe is trained to kill, not wound.

I begin to push through the crowd.

“You need to leave this school.”

Mr. Roger is weaving his way through the people as well, shouting at the boys to break it up.

“Get your hands off me.” Boe growls.

“Don’t you like it when people touch you without consent?”

“Boe, no!” I scream, but it’s too late. He pushes Eric backward, sending him flying into the concrete stairs.

Everyone collectively recoils.

“Boe, to the principal’s office!”

Boe ignores Mr. Roger. Instead, he marches over to Eric and picks him up by his shirt, bringing his face only millimetres away from his own. “Listen here, you piece of shit.” He whispers through clenched teeth. “I didn’t try anything with Scarlet. I wouldn’t ever hurt her. So back off.” Then Boe throws Eric back to the stairs and strides away, barging through the crowd.

I quickly examine Eric. He seems relatively uninjured, so I turn and follow Boe.

I catch up with him easily, even though his strides are quick enough to be classified as a jog.

“Boe, what the hell?”

“Can you believe that asshole? Everyone thinks that I tried to rape you.” He says, still walking faster than the speed of light.

My jaw drops for a second, but I quickly recover from the shock. “You didn’t have to fight him.”

He spreads his arms wide. “He picked the fight with me. It’s not my fault he’s stupid.”

I keep up with him, but not without jogging occasionally. “Boe, slow down.”

He halts in the middle of the student parking lot. “What are you doing here, anyway? You made it pretty clear that you don’t like me.”

I catch my breath for a second. “You nearly killed my friend because of something involving me.”

He rolls his eyes so exaggeratedly that he rolls his head as well. “Of course.”

I stare at him for a second. His eyes are wild, red flecks flashing in his dark green irises. Every muscle in his frame is tensed with anger. I look away. Boe shouldn’t be here. He is causing too much ruckus in a usually quiet town. And I can see he doesn’t like it here. I can also see that he won’t leave until he completes this stupid mission to the best of his ability.

It is time to put my plan into action. “We need to negotiate.”

He doesn’t even react. He reminds me of an angry bull.

I sigh. “Where is your car?”

I start to walk through the lot, looking for something that seemed ′Boe-ish’. He marches past me, digging for his keys before swinging his leg over the wet leather seat of a black Kawasaki racing bike.

I stand there, slacked jaw. I should have expected that the idiot on the bike from Friday was Boe.

And there is barely enough room on the back of the bike for me.

I point my thumb behind me. “I might just take my car.”

His eyebrows rise, challengingly, as he readies his helmet. He is asking me if I’m scared. Naturally, I go to the bike and sling my leg over. And naturally, I begin to internally prey to a deity that I don’t really believe in.

He kicks the bike to life and hands me the helmet. Before pride can get in my way, I shove it on my head. Boe swerves out of the parking lot, hitting the brakes just enough to force me to hug his waist. We speed along the back roads, taking corners on an angle, while I open and close my eyes, trying to decide if I want to see the last minutes of my life.

But, alas, we make it safely to Herald Cove beach. It is only about three hundred feet wide, with cliffs either side. The sandstone guardians make the dark sky look even more ominous. Usually, this little cove is a hidden gem of turquoise water and warm sand. Today the sea is a rugged grey, trimmed with frosty white tips. For a small second, I think about how I am sort of coming to like this overcast weather. It gives Green Haven a dangerous quality.

Boe wheels the bike up onto the footpath and flicks the kickstand out. In a rush, I jump off.

I pull the helmet off my head. “So, you ride a death trap.”

I look at him, expecting him to tease me for being scared. Instead I am met with a calm, almost placid expression. His jawline isn’t as tense and his lips are curved into a lazy grin.

“This is the only thing that is mine. I don’t own anything else.”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

If not fatal.

“Anyway, we face much deadlier things than motorbikes on a weekly basis.”

“Point.” Not a valid one, but a point.

“So, you said you want to negotiate?”

I look down at my feet. “Yes.”

“Okay, let me hear it.”

I lick my lips and swallow. Here goes nothing. “A trial period, where you give me a ‘Head Quarters’ experience here in Green Haven. At the end of it, I decide if it is worth me going with you.” To my surprise, I sound confident.

He raises his eye brows. “A trial period?” He asks.

I nod. “Yeah, since you seem to be the first hunter that I don’t want to kill, I think it would be best if I tried this whole experience on a micro scale first.”

He gnaws on the inside of his cheek. “Why the sudden compromise?”

I take a deep breath. “Honestly, you are tearing up my little town.” I huff. “I’m worried that Eric won’t survive the next round. And I like it here. But mostly because I know that you won’t leave until you get what you want, but I need to make you understand that being around other hunters is not good for me. And I don’t know how to show you that without going to HQ and killing some of your people. So, I need time to just convince you out right.”

“But you just said that you don’t want to kill me?” he asked.

“You are the first and only hunter I have ever encountered that doesn’t make my mark go all icy hot.” I say. “Which is the only reason I am even putting this offer on the table.”

“Okay.” He nods, then thinks for a second. “Here’s what I’m thinking. A two-week trial period, which you cannot void for any reason. At the end, it is up to you if you stay or go. However, the reason to stay has to be good.”

I shake my head. “I need more time. One month. And I can stay on a whim.”

“Two weeks,” he tilts his head from side to side. “And you can stay for a semi-valid reason.”

I narrow my eyes. “May I remind you that I have absolutely no reason to go to HQ, yet I have about one thousand reasons not to go?”

He shrugs. “There is a reason why you are, all of a sudden, ‘negotiating’.” He flashes me a smirk.

“I want you out of my life.”

“So, is that a yes?”

I swallow. “This is a lopsided agreement.”

“I agree. And a huge waste of my time.” His smugness leaching into his voice.

I open my mouth to spit an insult, but in a momentous effort I restrain myself. “One month, but I want out at anytime.”

“Four weeks, no out.”

“Are you trying to make me murder you?”

He winks at me. “I would like to see you try.”

I look down and scuff my feet, avoiding eye contact.

He taps on the handlebars. “Alright then, should we start today?”

I shake my head. “No, not today.”

“Okay then, tomorrow.”

I nod. “Yeah, but after eight AM.”

“I can’t wait.” He holds out his hand.

I take a deep breath. Is this really the right decision? I feel like I am signing myself over to something a little too blindly-as if I am sticking my hand in a box that is either full of snakes or spiders. There is no good result out of this. Well, other than the potential of him leaving town...

Then I remember Trent’s comment this morning. Read your own emotions, deeper than the rage.

I watch his steady gaze, and try to push aside the resentment that I feel toward him, the unnerving insecurity I feel when I am around him...

And I grasp his hand firmly, because underneath every negative emotion there is a sort of warmth.

Boe reciprocates, almost crushing my hand in the process. I don’t flinch though, sustaining fierce eye contact with those dark green eyes.

I feel like I have just made a deal with the devil.