11 normalcy amongst chaos

The principal invites me and Elijah to her office, to discuss about the financial aid.

I mean, that's what I assumed this was about. I didn't ask about why Elijah was called, but I assume it's to ask me to guide him in the Council, especially because he's a new student. Upon reaching the principal's office, she settles down in her plush chair and looks at us, inspecting us.

"Lena Whitaker and Elijah Valentine.", she says, "Congrats."

"Thank you, ma'am.", we both chorus.

"You might be wondering why I have summoned you both here.", she says, looking over her spectacles.

We both nod uncertainly, looking at each other.

"Well, Ms. Whitaker, I believe that you might not want to take up this position? Especially given your mother's little um, drama.", she looks at me hopefully.

"Of course, I'm taking up this position, ma'am. I've won it fair and square.", I say indignantly.

"I didn't say you didn't, Mrs. Whitaker. I just wanted to confirm it. Besides, if you ask me, I see Mr. Valentine as a better Council leader, no offense to you, of course.", she says, in a matter of fact manner.

I open my mouth to object, but Valentine gets to it first, saying, "Ma'am, respectfully, I don't want a position that I didn't win. It's demeaning to both our hard work.", he says, his tone hinting his underlying anger.

"Now, Mr. Valentine, this attitude won't help you lead the Council will it?", the principal asks.

My dislike for her increases considerably, her favoring richer male students rubbing me the wrong way.

"I won't take her position, Ma'am, If that's all I'll get going.", he says through gritted teeth, jaws clenched.

"Your wish, Mr. Valentine. Just an offer.", she says, completely disregarding my opinion on the matter.

"Ma'am, I don't know why you're trying to give away MY position, when I had managed to win it fairly? I don't understand what you're trying to do. Ma'am, I need the financial aid. Valentine has the money to back him up. I don't.", I say boldly.

"Of course you don't, Ms. Whitaker. Just seemed to feel that he'd make a better leader. Not trying to offend you at all.", she says, smiling almost evilly.

"Oh yeah right.", I mutter sarcastically, rolling my eyes. "What about the financial aid? Will I be allowed to cover my entire tuition with it?", I ask, tired of conversing with that lady.

"Yeah, you will, but mess up one time, and the position goes to Valentine, regardless of whether you both enjoy it or not.", she says, indicating that the conversation is over.

I scoff in disbelief, and walk out the door. I put in all this work, [let's be fair, except sneaking out I didn't do much, so dramatic for what?] for my principal to favor a rich boy who came to this school a month back. I walk back home, feeling oh so tired of stuff happening quicker than I can process them. I want my blissful life back, one where I had fun and went out at night, being myself. My parents and Jess, and her family too, all of them were fake all this while.

And I never realized. That's just depressing.

I reach my porch, Mother's words still running through my head.

"No we will not, you spoiled brat, we will talk here in, in front of all these people, and ensure you tell them that you won't be stepping foot into this place again."

This isn't the first time I'm hearing hurtful words from her mouth. In fact, it kind of shocked me that her words even hurt, especially after years of her shouting and screaming at me. Maybe it's because all my school now knew that Mother, the one who is supposed to be their child's biggest supporter, hates my guts. I mean, apart from the humiliation, it hurt.

It hurt that I don't have anyone to back me up if I do get into a sticky situation. It hurt that I can't go home to warm hugs and smiles. Instead I get greeted with a stern face, an incoming lecture waiting for me, regardless of what time or day it is.

As expected, that's exactly what happens.

I open the door, to find Mother standing at the entrance, her arms folded across her chest. Her eyes bore into mine, no matter how much I try to avoid direct eye contact.

"Lena, I'm disappointed in you.", she says.

I don't say anything, suddenly finding my shoes really interesting. I know what I did was really immature, but the extents to which I was driven, should make it justified in my opinion. Obviously, I can't stay this directly to Mother's face, especially given her terrible mood.

I look up to meet her eyes, and see that her eyes are filled with tears. Her purple bruises which were earlier covered up with makeup, now prominently visible, yellowing at the corners. Upon seeing her, especially after yesterday's fiasco, I get emotional.

Before I could open my mouth, she says, "I am not against you contesting in the election, Lena. In fact, I am all for it. I am not supposed to tell you anything, but yesterday, the reason we were kidnapped and assaulted was to do with you and your association with some boy from your school. I am not saying this to make you guilty, I'm saying this so that you don't keep rebelling against me, and do the very thing that put us and your friend in danger."

My heart falls to my stomach, fear gripping every limb. So both the incidents were indeed connected. And I am the cause for this. I knew this. Yet the confirmation, the fact that it was my fault that they were put in danger, makes me feel sick.

"I am sorry, Mother.", I say, meaning it fully for the first time in my entire life.

"Of course, you are. You should be, Lena.", she says softly.

"You know, when I had you, your father didn't want you as soon as he knew you were a girl. But I wanted you so bad, that I threatened to divorce him if he did anything to you. Father soon grew to love you, taking you to get ice cream every week. You know, we were a happy family.", she says, sadly, reminiscing in the past.

A past which I had no memory of.

Jess always told me stories of her bright and sunny childhood, and obviously I got jealous. Not because she has a perfect family, but because she remembered all these cute and wholesome moments with her family. When I told Jess about how I felt, she told me that how I probably just forgot them, or suppressed them because my subconscious didn't want to remember them.

At the time, I thought what she said made sense.

But now, Mother's usage of the past tense, indicates that there's something more. Something which they're hiding from me. Something that has to do with my childhood memories. And most definitely something to do with how strict they are. It does feel like I'm overthinking things a little bit, but most of the times, it usually is accurate.

And that scares me.

"Mother, is there something that happened to me as a child?", I ask.

"Go upstairs, Lena. Don't pull off things like this anymore.", she says, pulling her cardigan tightly around her slouched frame.

So there was something that had happened. Something they're going to keep hiding from me.

I have a feeling that I'll find out in time.

**********************************

I have to go to the library today.

For work. I will have to tolerate the antics of Valentine, now that he's technically my boss. And given his hot and cold attitude towards me, I genuinely don't think that this is going to be an enjoyable experience.

He hates my guts. And I need money.

Oh lord, life really is testing sometimes.

I had begged Mother to not mention my morning escapades to Father. Given the seriousness of yesterday night's events, without a doubt, Father would get pissed. And trust me, that's not something neither Mother or I wanted, especially now.

She promised she wouldn't, provided that I don't pull of stunts like this anymore. People seem to be telling me that very line, a lot these days.

I walk to the library, Jess's car being off limits due to that night. I haven't spoken to her since, and to be completely honest I kind of miss her. She was [is?] my only friend, of course I do. Despite my rational part of the brain yelling at me to stay away from her, she's my friend. I can't just forget about her, and her family, both being a part of my life for years now.

Thinking about her won't help much anyways.

I finish my twenty or so minute walk, sweat dripping down my blouse. The sweat against the chilly weather, made it even more colder, shivering once in a while. I walk into the library, promising myself that I won't get triggered by Elijah this time.

As usual, I'm not particularly on time, but at least it can reasonably explained. He pushes a cart full of books, rearranging the shelves. I look at him confused, wondering why he's changing the layout. The cozy atmosphere of the library is what had made me love it so much. It would be a huge waste if he transformed it into every ordinary library, dull and boring.

"Hey, sorry for being late.", I call out, trying to be a nice employee.

He nods, barely acknowledging my presence. Oh so he's going to be cold today. Nice choice, Valentine. [totally and utterly sarcastic] I walk up beside him, trying to help him arrange the books into the shelves.

"You're rearranging the place? But I like it the way it was before.", I say, confused as to why he would even consider changing it. "Besides, what should I be doing today?", I say, cheerily.

"Ms. Whitaker, that's a sir for you.", he says, emphasizing on the word "sir".

What a jerk. Even Oliver doesn't make me call him sir.

"Arrange these books into the shelves. I'll take care of layout. Oh and? Your likes and dislikes about this place is of no concern to me, Ms. Whitaker.", he says coldly.

"No need to get your panties in a twist. Sir.", I add hastily. I push past him, grabbing the cart. I begin arranging it based on genre, and popularity. How do I judge the popularity? Well, more the books are worn, more they are in demand.

While I'm here doing mind numbingly boring work, Elijah rearranges the shelves, grunting. The polished wood makes an ear piercing noise once in a while, making me want to rip my ears off. As I arrange the books, I notice that the shelves are cleaner than usual. By clean I mean that the regular layer of dust in the shelves were nowhere to be seen. Upon noticing that, I look around, and to my pleasant surprise, I realize that Elijah had cleaned the entire library single handedly.

That's pretty impressive, I have to say.

Half an hour, or more passes like that, silence filling the air, except for the frequent screeching of the polished wood against the floor. After I finish arranging the books, I look at Elijah, who starts removing the ivy that grows near the window. To be honest, ivy usually makes the place look musty and unused, but in this instance, it looked pretty. It made me feel like this library was located in the middle of the forest, fairies and gnomes everywhere.

I look at him, cutting at the stem with gardening shears. Wait that's not how you remove ivy, is it? Grandmother usually sprays vinegar at its roots so that it just dies off naturally. Before I open my mouth to ask him what he's trying to do, he says, "Stop ogling me and get to work."

I gape at him open mouthed, wondering how he knew I was staring at him. "What are you trying to do with the ivy? Sir.", I add reluctantly, ignoring his order to go and work.

"None of your business, Whitaker. It's my business what I decide to do with my uncle's library.", he says, chillier than Antarctica.

I sigh, wondering how he managed to switch from the dude who got me a t-shirt because he spilled coffee on me, to this. Boys. I ask him whether I have more work to do, and he tells me to clear out the counter. I start at that very tedious task, the counter being a storage unit of a variety of things from potato chips, to a few bucks, to a very friendly family of roaches. I wonder how Oliver even sat in this place, disregard use it.

After a disgusting thirty minutes of cleaning that place out, I head out to throw the garbage bag outside, full with stuff from and around the counter. It felt good working hard after a long time. Except handling the roaches, I had a lot of fun. I'd even go to say that I enjoyed it. Even with Valentine being a total shit bag.

I head inside, wiping at the sweat dripping down my face. I tuck my hair behind my ears, and walk to get my things and head out. I approach Valentine after getting my things, him still cutting at the ivy like a mad man. I realize that he's trimming the ivy, instead of completely cutting it off, retaining the cozy look this place had. His shirt rides up, every time he raises his hand to cut the leaves. His abs peek through, his v-line totally visible.

I turn scarlet in seconds, mentally hitting myself for staring at a man so indecently. As I cool myself down, I here him say, "What're you standing there for? You're done with the roach infested counter?" Humor hints his voice, showing that he know that it was filled with bugs beforehand.

I fume silently, barely managing to contain my irritation. I won't give him the satisfaction of irking me, oh no I won't. "Yes I finished it, sir.", I say, nonchalantly.

"Okay, thank you for your work, Whitaker. You may go home now.", he announces. "Oh and? Get that roach off your blouse, it's not a look.", he says, and winks at me.

I glance down at my blouse anxiously, swatting at it as a reflex.

I see nothing.

Oh my god. Did I, Lena Whitaker, just fall for the same trick twice? That too by the same person? And he had the audacity to wink?! After making me go through such a shitty work day?

What an ass.

He looks at me, and laughs, that godforsaken grin making an appearance again. The stepladder wobbles, as he laughs full heartedly, those stomach laughs where your tummy is left hurting afterwards. I would've enjoyed the scene if he weren't laughing at my expense.

"Oh my, Whitaker, I didn't pin you to be the kind to fall for the same trick twice.", he says, gasping for air. I flush in embarrassment, and decide to leave. I turn around huffily, annoyed at him. Before I grab the door handle, he says, "I enjoyed working with you, Lena. Ensure you're on time starting tomorrow."

I pause, confused at his sudden warmness. I push the door handle, and head out into the evening. He called me Lena. That felt nice.

Stop it, Lena. You're letting his little mind tricks get to you. He has called you Lena before. Why does this make you feel "nice"? Gross.

I walk home, or should I say, I skipped home. I just had a pleasant work day, and the pay isn't too bad.

Maybe whoever said that things always get better, is right.

********************************

𝗧𝗵𝗶𝗿𝗱 𝗣𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻

As Lena walks out of the building, a dark figure hiding behind one of the cars lining the streets, tenses. His dark attire blending him against the background, made it almost impossible to sense his presence. His prowls behind the girl, like a carnivore stalking his prey. His steps light, like that of a cat's, couldn't be heard, the poor girl skipping down the street unaware of the danger awaiting her.

As she approaches a small bridge, one that's constructed over feeble wood, she hears a small creak. She turns around quickly, now alert. She looks around, looking scared out of her mind. Isn't this the life of every woman walking home at night?

She turns around, and her pace quickens, hurrying to reach her house. The misty evening didn't help her, the man in black following in quick pursuit. His approaching steps inaudible, the dense air muffling even the smallest of creaks. Despite the man in black bending amongst the shadow, Lena's sixth sense is sharp.

She knows someone is following her, and she's not going to let them get to her without a fight, Her keys tighten around her hand, her knuckles white from gripping it tightly. She looks back every few seconds, making sure that whoever is following her isn't close enough to attack her.

The man in black reaches for something, an object. A knife, or a revolver, it cannot be said, but his intent to hurt Lena crystal clear. He begins quickening his pace, his shoes thudding slightly onto the wood of the bridge. Lena feels the vibrations of the heavy steps, and the loudness indicating that the man is close. Her chest rises up and down, sweat dripping down the side of her forehead.

Her eyes widen with fear, as she senses that the man is close. She doesn't hesitate a bit, and begins sprinting, knowing that she can't singlehandedly take a man, especially in the middle of nowhere, where no one can hear her if she called out for help.

The man in black begins running behind her, his footsteps now heavy and loud. Despite his feline walk, he becomes clumsier the quicker he does things. And that is something Lena understands, as she uses this to her advantage.

As the man in black closes the distance between them, Lena quickens her speed, going faster than ever. She pulls off a clever stunt, making the man believe that her earlier speed was her fastest, and quickening when the man reached her. Wind whips her hair backwards, her face flushed with exertion. The man in pursuit, begins running faster, however his chest begins rising and falling quickly, indicating that he's clearly tired.

Lena managed to discourage and outsmart the man in black, by just paying attention to detail. As she revels in the success of her plan, a grin appears on her face, smiling in a what would be, a terrifying situation for anyone else.

As the man in black huffs and slows down, grabbing at his thigh and grunting in pain, Lena reaches hard land, just a few feet away from society.

She slows down as she spots a busy street, people hurrying to go home after a long day of work. She grins in victory, the streetlights casting an orange hue over her face.

She knows she had won.

For now.