I attempted my nightly routine of taming my curls into a braid. Lucy took pity on me, helping out when my ribs screamed loudly at me. After she finished, I relaxed back into my pillows.
“So what happened today? I’m assuming you didn’t plan on being out until the middle of the night, worrying your blood sister to death.” Lucy could lay on the guilt with the best of them.
“You were in self-defense. You know how boring I find the basic classes. I can’t even believe we still have to attend them.”
“They seem to think we’ll forget everything if we don’t repeat absolutely every class.” Lucy shook her head. “And don’t diverge from the topic. What happened?”
I skimmed over my day. Most of it was unimportant.
Except the encounter in the alley.
It was foremost in my mind. I spent the most amount of time describing every little nuance.
Lucy shook her head, confusion warring with humor and fear.
“Who are you, Abigail? You jump from one dangerous situation to another and yet somehow escape unscathed. I’m afraid one day your luck will run out.” She glared at me. “If you die, I’m going to find you, bring you back, and kill you again. Understand?”
“Understood, psycho!”
She patted my head.
Ignoring her condescension, I continued. “I need to go back and find him. I need answers. The curiosity is killing me.”
I hadn’t planned on telling her – she was a worrier – but keeping secrets is not my strong suit.
She nailed me with her ‘look’, freezing me to the spot.
“We should consider ourselves lucky that you escaped today without losing any body parts. He said he was your watcher? Do you really want to chase down weird alley stalkers?”
“I can’t stop thinking about how he made me feel.”
She shook her head. “I swear worrying about you is giving me gray hair.”
I wanted to reassure her that everything would be fine, but we lived with zero guarantees.
“I’m eighteen in a month and, as Olden so kindly pointed out, onto the streets we go. It’s not exactly my dream to join a resistance group. I don’t want to be a foot soldier in this pointless war.”
Lucy nodded, unease plying her pixie features.
“I feel restless, Abbs. I’m getting no sleep, and wrinkles, I think.” To reiterate her point, her forehead crinkled. “My thoughts are that we should get out of New York. There’s no future for us here. We have nothing to lose by checking to see if it’s this bad everywhere.”
I shook my head in frustration. “I know I say this every day, but what the hell is wrong with people? War is so short-sighted. They’re destroying the very world they have to live in.”
“Yep, people are stupid. That we established long ago.”
“Word.” I shook my head. “And stupid’s an understatement. Not nearly strong enough to describe this idiocy. Slow, dim-witted, dense, moronic...” I trailed off and Lucy picked it up.
“Brainless, thick, dumbass.”
I laughed out loud. “I think you nailed it. They take dumbass-ness to an entirely new level.”
A wave of exhaustion flowed over me. “And you’re right. New York is just too dangerous. If only we had family to go to.”
Lucy lay back against the pillows, her expression grim. Her tone had far less bounce than usual. “Well, my parents are dead. Car bomb saw to that. And I guess if no one has come forward for you after eighteen years, then yours are either dead or somewhere far from here.”
It was incomprehensible to me that my parents were dead. I knew they were out there somewhere. I shrugged, flinching as the movement tugged on my ribs. “We’ve never relied on anyone else before. Plus, we’re smart enough to figure this out. Surely.”
Lucy laughed and, reaching over, fist-pumped me. “Smarter than the average rebel.”
I yawned loudly, barely keeping my eyes open.
Lucy saved my ribs the painful effort by switching off the main light for me. She dived into her bed, whilst I pulled back my covers and crawled under. There was a real chill in the air. A little more effort to insulate these old buildings would be much appreciated.
“Night.” I yawned again.
“Night, Aribella.”
I groaned. “Seriously, not you too! Was that the only thing you took from today?”
She laughed. “Aribella suits you.”
“Go to sleep, Lucy Laurell.”
“Sure, use my full name. Totally scary.”
“I still think we need middle names, you know, for dramatic effect.”
Lucy laughed. “We’re abandoned teens, Abbs, we can’t afford middle names.” She dropped her bottom lip.
I snorted with laughter. “Word.”
She let a few chuckles escape. “The other day I was trying to remember when we started using ‘word’.”
I paused for a moment. “You know, I have no idea either, but we can’t give it up now, the memories. Remember that day we answered every one of Olden’s questions with ‘word’?”