Chương 31: Source of the Calm

In the world of economics, a heap of books crashes onto the teacher's desk as students hurry in for the start of class. Coach Moon glares up at them. He appears hungover as he pops a handful of antacids into his mouth and begins chomping them with his teeth.

"Sit down. Sit, sit, sit. Lots to cover." Crimson and Churro take their seats as the classroom fills up.

"No, Churro, take the seat behind me. Churro..." he muttered. But it's too late. Willow takes the empty seat behind him.

"Hey, I haven't seen you all day. When are you getting a new phone? I feel like I'm totally disconnected from you."

"Oh. Sorry? I've been super busy. I am getting one soon. Really soon." After she heard that, her face flipped from worry to amusement in an instant.

"By the way, I switched lab partners. To you. This gives me a perfect excuse to take you home for studying." Willow said.

"Oh... He watches her, reading her expression as disappointment.

"You don't mind, right? Drop by my place tonight. 8: 30?" Coach Moon smacks a book on his desk like a judge's gavel to grab the class's attention.

"Alright, calm down. Let's kick off with a quick recap of last night's reading. Greenberg, lower your hand. Everyone knows you finished the reading. What about... Croft? The reading, Croft."

"Last night's reading?"

"No, the Gettysburg Address reading." This left Crimson bewildered, since he'd never in his life even heard of that book, but then he caught the coach's sarcastic expression.

"That was sarcasm, Croft. Do you know what that means?" He looks over at Churro, who beams with pride.

"Did you do the reading or not?

"I think I forgot."

"Alright, then. Good job. As if you're not barely passing this class with a D. You're aware I can't let you stay on the team if you have a D, Croft?" He waits calmly for Crimson to answer. All eyes are on him. A snicker comes from the other side of the room. At his desk, Churro hears a beep and glances at his phone, as his heart rate climbs steadily.

"How about you summarize last night's reading? No? What about the night before? How about you summarize anything you've ever read? In your whole life." Feeling flustered, Crimson blinks up at him. Churro observes the heart rate monitor on his phone, which keeps climbing higher.

"Um... uh..."

"Anything at all. How about a blog? The back of a cereal box? The adults-only warning on your favorite website." Perspiring, Crimson stares into space, at a loss for words.

"Thank you, Croft. Thank you for snuffing out every last spark of hope I hold for your generation. At our next practice, you'll start with suicide runs." While the class erupts in laughter, Crimson sinks into his chair, deeply embarrassed. Behind him, Willow inches forward slowly. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. On the other side of the room, Churro watches the heart rate monitor with growing concern. Until the numbers begin to fall. Remarkably quickly.

He glances over to figure out why. Willow has slipped her hand under Crimson's desk, interlacing her fingers with his. They remain connected, and Crimson's heartbeat steadies to a perfect calm. All because of her touch.

Churro trails Crimson into the bustling corridor.

"It's her. It's Willow. Recall what you shared with me about that full-moon night? She was on your mind. About keeping her safe. So do you remember that first lacrosse game? You claimed you could hear her voice echoing across the field."

"But that's not always the case. Because each time I'm kissing her or holding her close..."

"That's a different story. In those moments, you're just another lovesick teen focused on desire. See, you're thinking about that right now. Aren't you?" With a dreamy look and a faint smile on his lips, Crimson snaps back to reality.

"Sorry""Now when she held your hand during class, it felt different. I don't believe she weakens you. I think she truly gives you strength. She's like a kind of anchor... Churro halts, catching sight of Crimson who has come to a standstill, taken aback by his own utterance.

"Did those words really leave my mouth? No, I do. I truly do. I believe I've completely fallen for her."

"And that's something lovely. Before you dash off to pen a poem, can we sort this out? Because clearly you can't be by her side constantly."

"Alright, what's my move?" Churro strides back and forth. Then he freezes. Lost in thought.

"You've got a plan forming, right?"

"Yeah." Crimson trails Churro around the school grounds to the parking lot's edge, where several massive dumpsters hide a cluster of seniors. They lounge there, laughing and chatting while puffing on cigarettes. One senior emerges from a truck filled with smoke to join the rest.

"Come over here. Position yourself right here. Have you got your keys?" Crimson pulls out his house keys.

"Raise them high. In this manner. Now, no matter what goes down, I need you to keep Willow in your mind. Locate her voice just like you managed at the game? Understood?" Crimson gives a nod.

"Excellent. Don't stop holding those keys." Churro strolls to the Senior's truck and pulls out his own set of car keys. Then, within a few fleeting moments, he scrapes his key along the truck's side, carving an ugly mark into the paintwork. While Crimson watches, horrified, Churro stows his keys and spins to face him.

"Hey, man. What are you doing to that truck?" The Seniors whirl around and spot Crimson lifting his car keys.

"What in the world?" Crimson backs away as Churro flashes a wicked grin. The Seniors pounce on him in an instant. He raises his arms, trying to shield himself. But they immediately start beating the living daylights out of him. Churro glances at his phone, tracking the accelerating pulse, while Crimson collapses onto the asphalt beneath the relentless assault. Crimson chose to rely on his hearing, letting Willow's voice soothe him into a calmer state. He spotted her waiting beside his locker.

"Hey Mom, it's me. Just giving you a heads-up that I'll be arriving home later this evening. Hitting the books with a friend. Yeah, that particular friend. We're paired up for the lab..." Suddenly, another voice cuts in...

"Halt! Freeze immediately! What on earth do you two think you're up to?" Meanwhile, back at the dumpster, Mr. Smosh intervenes to halt the brawl. Crimson is sprawled on the ground, blood trickling from his nose. He turns his head slowly toward Churro, who raises his phone. On the display, the heartbeat is steady and regular. The plan had succeeded...

Nara Tale rests in his wheelchair, facing the window. Warm sunlight kisses one side of his face while his scars remain hidden in shadow. A gentle hand reaches out, slowly rotating the chair around. Autzee settles on the bed, drawing his uncle nearer. He cocks his head, attempting to meet his uncle's vacant stare.

"Nara?" Autzee waves a hand before the man's eyes. He doesn't even flutter an eyelid.

"I need your help." He lifts his uncle's hands, guiding them to the wheelchair's armrests.

"If you can hear me, I need you to give me a sign. Anything. Blink or lift a finger. Just something to guide me in the right direction." Nara stares ahead, as if looking straight through him.

"Someone killed Laura. Your niece, Laura." He moves in closer.

"Whoever he is, he's an Alpha now. But one without a pack. That implies he's not all that powerful. I've got him covered. But locating him comes first. If you have any clue, just signal me. Could it be someone from our group? Did anyone else escape the blaze? Still nothing in return. Not a hint of movement.

"If you're aware of something, just blink once. Lift a finger. Anything at all..." He stands there, waiting. Yet his uncle just gazes back, motionless.

"Speak up!" Autzee's voice booms as he clutches his uncle's hands, almost trying to shake an answer from him.

"Release him." He spins around to find his uncle's nurse, Jennifer, framed in the doorway.

"Do you really think that after six years of this, shouting at him will get you a reply? Show some patience. He'll answer if you just give him the time." Autzee pivots to depart.

"My time has run out entirely." As Jennifer swivels to observe his retreat, his footsteps whispering on the corridor's tiled expanse, neither glances back to catch Nara's trembling index finger lifting off the armrest...