Not Protected, page 24
Michael exhaled, breaking eye contact for a second as he looked over the campus. "There's something I need to tell you," he confessed. "I think now might be better than later because it seems like we've run out of--"
Chances. Time. Whatever he was going to say, he never got the opportunity for a high-pitched voice rang down the hallway, calling out, "Michael?"
Sophia's voice acted as a splash of cold water on my mind and I resurfaced to reality. Michael and I scrambled off the archway, and I made sure to keep my distance as we faced Sophia. "I'm going to go," I said quietly, giving Michael a look that told him not to follow me. I needed to make sure Vincent had a place to stay (and also grill him on what was going through his mind when he thought it'd be a good idea to wander the academy, asking for Maria Banks). I needed to know if Elijah knew about this.
I was able to take a few steps past Sophia before her hand snatched my arm and pulled me back in front of her. "You're not going anywhere," she stated.
I narrowed my eyes at the demanding tone she had. "Did you just tell me what to do?"
"You think I'm going to let you off after I caught you trying to get with Michael when you know that I like him?" she sneered. "Who the hell do you think you are, Stacy Beversh?"
"You just said the answer," I replied coolly. "I'm Stacy Beversh. Unless I have some other name that I go by." "You think you're all that," she said, coming closer to where I stood. "Just because you act smart and say funny things, you think you can just walk all over whoever you want. Here's some advice, sweetheart: you're not that great."
"In my personal opinion, I'm quite amazing," I said. "So move out of my way, or I will be walking all over you, and believe me when I say I won't be doing it lightly."
"You're such a slut," she snapped, pulling out a card so random that it took me a second to process the low-level insult she just threw at me.
"Sophia, don't," Michael cut in. "Don't be like this towards Stacy." "I heard a boy showed up today and you were all over him just because he looked easy. Just like you've been trying to hook up with Michael since the beginning of school. You just can't handle rejection, and you're desperate for attention, so you'll go after anyone you want. Even when it's my boy."
"Sophia." Michael's voice grew dangerously low. "You promised me you wouldn't be like this." "He's mine," Sophia claimed with a vehemence that could've rattled anyone's bones--but she was dealing with me. "He's always been mine. I don't care what you think you had in the past with him but it's over now. Don't touch him. Don't come near him ever again. We will always be closer than anything your insane little mind can cook up, so back off."
I was sucked back into reality just as an explosion of red and orange flashed violently in my mind. I felt as though I couldn't breathe and there was a painful throbbing in my head, as though someone had driven a nail into my skull. I let out a cry as I pressed my palm to my temple.
"See? What did I say? You're such an attention-seeker, Stacy," she smirked. And just like that, something inside of me snapped. Her voice, which was so similar to the girl in my head, had grated me down to my final nerve, and my tolerance snapped, unable to handle all of the confusion and frustration clashing in me.
"First off," I started, my voice like ice, "that boy you mentioned has a name and it's Vincent. He's not some easy boy. You can't call people easy like they're some kind of level on a video game." I took a step closer to her, the anger pulsing in my veins beginning to show in my expression. Sophia's vindictive glare faltered.
"Secondly, I am not an attention-seeker. I don't need the attention nor do I want it, unlike the person I am talking to right now."
"And lastly," I said, watching the previous fearlessness of Sophia's nature fade, the arrogance in her eyes altering to fear, "the next time you insult me will be the very last time you'll be able to say anything." Without another word, I stormed off, the headache growing worse with every step. I ignored Michael's calls, I blocked out Sophia's protests as she called him back. I had a guess at what this meant, and I needed to speak to Xavier Fell about it.
Technically, I'd already be dead if I were at the bottom of the ocean
* * * Halfway down the stairs, I nearly ran into Alec. The headache pounding in my head made it hard for me to see clearly and there was a slight sensation of vertigo with every step I took. I probably would've pushed us both down the stairs if Alec hadn't gripped my arms and stopped me in my tracks.
"Whoa, Beversh," he cautioned as I rocked back and forth on my heels. "What's going on? Did she hurt you?"
"How do you know it's a her?" I asked, my fingers massaging my temple. "I can hear the high frequency of that shut-the-hell-up voice of hers," he answered. "Seriously, you look like you're about to pass out. Do you need to lie down?"
"We need to get to Professor Fell," I refused, shaking my head. The fires were still burning in my mind, and I needed to be able to describe what I saw with accuracy to Professor Fell.
Alec gave me a long look before he nodded and together, we descended the stairs. We set off towards the history corridor, taking a little longer than usual since I had to stop every now and then thanks to the pain in my cranium. We managed to arrive just as Professor Fell was exiting his lecture hall.
"Bevershes," he greeted coolly, his sharp green eyes moving between the two of us with casual interest. "Am I going to be wrongly accused of something again?"
"Yeah," Alec spoke up. "Why are you not bumping my percentage up to ninety percent when I have an eighty-nine point six?" "Do your presentation," shrugged Professor Fell.
"You most definitely were not asleep, Mr. I-Like-To-Make-Snide-Comments," I shot.
"I'm pretty sure neither of you came here to complain about your grades because Rivers, if you actually cared, you'd stay awake in class for once."
Alec opened his mouth, probably to list the five times he had been awake but I cut him off with a punch on the arm. He scowled at me, but I ignored him and turned to my professor.
"I have a question about my amnesia," I said. Professor Fell cocked a brow
"Just because you're not exercising your medical license doesn't mean you lost all that medical knowledge," I countered. "So how does one get their memory back?" Professor Fell made a face at my logic (you can't fight Banks logic), but with a resigned sigh, he answered. "Since yours is selective amnesia--or something similar to dissociative amnesia--you can go to a psychotherapist to help bridge the gaps in your memories. I can't guarantee that your memories will come back--it's never a certainty with amnesia. Psychotherapy might not even prove to be helpful since it's been years since the incident."
"But it's possible?"
"No," he refused. "Not unless I'm getting paid."
"If I can pry, Your Highness," Professor Fell interrupted, his dialect switching over to Egyptn, "did you experience something that made you so curious? You didn't seem quite so eager a few weeks ago." I paused for a moment, debating on whether or not I should tell him the whole truth. Would I have to be hospitalized? What if I was sent back to Egypt?
"I had a flashback," I admitted after a few minutes. "Just a few moments ago, actually." This wasn't a puzzle I could figure out on my own. This was something that required help from people like him. Professor Fell slipped one of his hands into the pockets of his slim black slacks, his brows scrunched togetherfor a few seconds before he looked up. "Triggers aren't all that common with amnesia, but perhaps in your case, maybe something you heard or saw triggered part of the block in your mind to crumble."
"What did you see?" Alec inquired.
I closed my eyes, and a square room filled my vision, flames licking up the sides of the walls. I couldn't identify anyone's faces except for one--Archer, with his dark eyes brimming with anger and fear before everything was engulfed in scarlet.
"Fire. The cabin was burning," I answered.
"Were you thinking about setting Michael or Sophia on fire? Maybe that was the trigger." Alec's lips turned upside into a smirk. "You
"No, I was thinking about setting your hair on fire," I retorted. "But I figured it was a bad idea. You'd look even uglier if you were bald." "Time!" Professor Fell exclaimed, snapping his fingers and reverting our attention back to him. "In most cases, patients with dissociative amnesia have their memories return to them over the course of time, so perhaps the hour has come for you."
"The hour came pretty late," muttered Alec. Professor Fell shook his head. "I was preparing to be a neurosurgeon, Beversh, not a psychotherapist. I read up on amnesia for the instances to I needed to, but I didn't have an extensive study on the different branches of memory loss. Look, if you want my honest advice, focus on your future. The accident happened practically a whole decade ago. You have bigger problems on your hand than a small thing like that."
"Amnesia isn't a small thing," I argued and he chuckled.
"In a normal person's life, no, it's not. However, considering the fact that you're, well,
With a polite nod of his head, Professor Fell walked away, but before he was about to turn the corner, he glanced back at me. "Give it time," he advised. "Some things can't be forced."
He then disappeared from our sight, the sound of his shoes padding against the corridor halls fading with the growing distance.
"I can see why Frederick Fell disowned him," Alec commented. "The first and last compliment I will ever give a Fell," Alec said, a look of disdain crossing his face at the mention of the clan. "Can you imagine how much it would suck if he hated us the same way the rest of his family does?"
"It would be a whole new level of hell," I agreed as we began to leave the corridor. My mind strayed back to my confrontation with Sophia. I had never known of her until now. Six had only ever referred to her as 'his sister' with a proud grin and tone. She wasn't a noble, so she couldn't possibly have anything to do with the accident.
So why did her words trigger that flashback?
I took Xavier Fell's advice and for the next three days, I avoided any contact with Sophia. She somehow triggered the memory of the incident to return, and if I were to move on from the past, I needed to steer clear of her.
It was most definitely a task I did not dread.
My phone chirped as I entered the living room.
"The new mall just opened," I announced after reading Harry Mayfield's text. "We are cordially invited to attend the opening with Michael's back-up dancers."
"My what?" Michael spoke up, looking over to me with an expression of outrage.
"Isn't that the mall all the way across town?" Elijah questioned as he entered the room, a glass of orange juice in his hand.
"Excuse you, I am trying to watch something very important," Alec piped up, throwing a piece of popcorn at my head.
"Can I go?" I asked. Elijah frowned at me.
I gave my cousin a flat look. "Cross Academy is nearly an hour out of town, yet I'm still forced to attend its classes."
"That's because you have Michael with you."
Elijah crossed his arms, almost spilling the orange juice on accident. "Remember the last time you went on a trip out of town? Your identity was exposed."
"He's got a point, Maria," Michael chimed in. On a normal day, I would've just agreed to stay home and do something casual. Like save all of China. I was tired, though, of being cooped up in the house watching reruns of TV shows that I'd already marathoned five times before. An afternoon with the Unholy Trinity sounded like a good dose of normality that I was craving.
"It's just for a few hours. Plus, there's a cheesecake bakery at this mall. I'll bring some back for you." Elijah bit his lips, the offer of his favorite dessert seeming to weaken his conviction.
"Elijah," Michael spoke up in a warning tone, "don't give in."
Both Alec and I had said the word at the same time, causing Michael to deliver the most frustrated eyeroll of the century.
Elijah gave a heavy sigh. "Fine, you can go." He took a swig of his orange juice. "But," he continued, "if you are harmed in anyway, I will ship you back to Egypt in a box."
Michael groaned in his seat, earning himself a loud shush from Alec while I gave a whoop of success. Immediately, I skipped into the kitchen, grabbing Michael's keys off the island counter. "Dibs on the radio station," Michael called out. Alec shushed him again.
"Give me your phone," Harry demanded immediately when we came to a stop before the Unholy Trinity. Michael frowned and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
"Did you lose your phone or something?" Michael asked, pulling out the electronic device. Harry snagged it out of Michael's hands. "No, I just can't risk you accidentally letting the she-demon know where we are," Harry answered as he slipped the device into his pockets. Michael made an irritated noise and demanded his property be returned to him.
"Remember the last time I spent longer than an hour with her?" Harry said, sharpening his cerulean eyes. "Plus, I don't think your girlfriend would appreciate the unnecessary company." Michael seemed confused at the latter statement until he scowled. "We're not dating," he snapped, glancing over at me for a split second before surging forward to tickle Harry. In a matter of seconds, Michael had his phone back.
"Say one more stupid comment and I'll tell your mother what exactly you and Kendra are studying in your little anatomy sessions," he threatened. This comment sMariaed a feud between the two boys as the rest of the group continued down the mall. It was a four-story building with limestone flooring and white walls that reflected the golden lights stationed above every department. Pop music played as background noise to the overwhelming chatter of the crowd. There were girls with five different bags on each arm and husbands lounging in leather couches. We passed by a large fountain, which contained a metal contraption sculpted of some abstract modern design, lit at the bottom by turquoise and gold lights that bounced off the clear water. There were kids walking on the edge of the fountain while their parents snacked on food obviously bought from the enormous food court by the fountain.
"I know we're not good friends," Josh said to me, "so I'm sorry you had to come along. It's jst that we haven't hung out with Michael for a while, and he can only come along if you're going." I felt a stab of guilt. Being a bodyguard seemed like such a dull job. You were unable to enjoy your own life because you were too busy guarding someone else's existence. I looked straight ahead, watching as Michael threw his head back as he laughed at something Harry said.
"It's okay," I said softly. "You guys aren't that bad."
Josh beamed at me. "I think it's great that we're all hanging out. It's a chance for us to fix everything between us since, you know, we didn't have that great of a start."
I raised a brow at him. "Are you referring to all those years you bullied me, Jordan?" Even Mark joined in on the laughter as Josh muttered bitterly about his name. I threw my arm around him and ruffled his hair. "Look, we all did terrible things to each other. It'll take a while, but sure, let's try and be friends," I offered, shooting a smile at Mark and Josh. The two of them returned my grin, and in my head, I laughed. Who would've thought that one day I would be suggesting a friendship between the Unholy Trinity and me?
I looked to Michael. He only ever spent time with his friends when I was with them. I would sacrifice my hours if it meant Michael could spend more time with these boys. That meant several more gettogethers and hey, these things would be much more enjoyable if I was one step closer to being friends with the boys rather than an enemy.
Despite Alec's insistence that we all go get food first, the rest of the boys dragged us into one of the department stores that sold suits and tuxedos for formal occasions. Here, I found out that the reason why the Unholy Trinity had come to the mall was because Mark's mother, a member of the House of Representatives, was throwing a congratulatory party for Mark's older sister, who had made her name in the world of politics.
Josh and Mark had started arguing over the material of one certain Italian suit and whether or not it was "politician-worthy." Alec and Michael were examining the Egyptn-produced attires. Since I didn't want to watch Alec pucker his lips at Michael and me, I stood with Harry as he browsed through the tuxedo coats, an expression of disdain as his fingers brushed against the surface of the jackets.
"Sophia's been complaining about you the last few days," he informed me. "Something about how you were trying to kiss Michael."
"Believe it or not, she was worse when she was younger," Harry laughed as his fingers lingered on an allblack jacket, his fingers rubbing the material together before he moved on.
"You've met her before," I stated. "The summer of our second year at the academy," Harry answered. "Her parents were on a cruise or something, and her brother couldn't take care of her, so Sophia spent the summer with Michael's family. I had this cousin I hated because he was a spoiled little devil, but when I met Sophia, I thought my cousin was a damn angel."
"Why, did she call you ugly?" I snorted, knowing how easily Harry' feathers got ruffled when someone insulted him.
"No." Harry made a face at me. "All she did was compete with me to get Michael's attention. I spent a day with her and after that, I made sure not to go anywhere near Michael for the rest of that summer." "It doesn't sound like much has changed," I mused, imagining Sophia Misser in a tinier form, complete with her scowl and blonde ringlets. The next thing I knew, my hand clutched the side of my head as I winced in response to the pain shooting through my brain.
Harry eyed me with concern. "It's nothing," I brushed off, dropping my arm. "I've just been getting headaches lately. You were saying?" "I know you don't think she could get any worse, but you didn't meet prepubescent Sophia. Michael told me that summer that he had to make her be a better person. He was the only person she'd listen to besides her brother, apparently, so it was up to him to make her less of a little brat for whatever reason. I would say it didn't work--I still can't stand her, but she's actually less rude than she was when she was little."
I tried to picture an image of Sophia again, but for some reason, the agony in my head only became more excruciating. There were alarms sounding in my mind. Warning, warning--do not press subject any further.
