𝓟𝐫𝗼𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝓢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐞

Chapter #7 - Keefe

Chapter #7 - Keefe

Don't.

That was the word guiding Keefe's life at the moment. Don't talk unless you have to, and definitely don't yell. Don't attract too much attention to yourself— even if you're really tempted to steal some E.L. Fudges and a Batman shirt from the store. And most importantly: Don't think about Sophie.

The heartbreak that came with thinking about her was too much to bear.

So on his fourth day in the city of Cambridge, Keefe kept thinking those four words to himself. Don't think about Sophie. It was the only way he was going to get through this— if this ever ended.

"Excuse me," a man with black hair and the bushiest mustache Keefe had ever seen asked as he was walking down the street. He looked Keefe up and down, like something about him was off. As soon as he'd arrived in the Forbidden Cities, the first thing he did was get some human clothes. But despite this disguise, Keefe's appearance still seemed a bit odd to the humans passing by. He hoped it was his awesome hair.

The man pointed to a cluster of school kids walking towards the nearest museum, "Are you with them?"

"Uh," Keefe said, using the softest tone he could— he did not want to numb this man, "No?"

"Then who are you with? And don't say no one— most teenagers here are with somebody." Keefe looked at the man, surprised by the waves of suspicion wafting off of him. The man's eyes were brown, which reminded him of—

Don't think about Sophie.

"I'm here for, um..." Suddenly, Keefe looked to the side. There were some teenage couples laughing and eating food on little outdoor tables. A restaurant, he thought. Sophie had mentioned before that humans had those, though Keefe had to admit it seemed like a bit of a strange concept.

Don't think about Sophie.

Keefe said (a couple seconds too late), "Yes, that's right— I'm here to go eat at the restaurant! On... on a date. With, uh, Foster?" He blushed as soon as he said the final sentence.

So much for not thinking about Sophie.

Seriously— he really needed to work on better cover stories.

The man smiled, "Ah, okay. Sorry to be disruptive. You can go off on your date. It's just... my seventeen-year-old son ran away a year ago, and now I kind of freak out whenever I see a teenager walking down the street with no other people or a mum or dad with them. I'm always worried now that they're a runaway."

Keefe's stomach sank. He was also feeling some pretty intense emotions coming from the man, especially considering human emotions were so strong. Though, luckily, Keefe had gotten better at drowning them out.

He had only been in England for a day, but it was already clear human culture had a very different vibe than elves. He had already seen several homeless people, and children in dirtier clothes he could ever imagine. Not to mention clear signs of crime. And Cambridge was supposedly one of the richer areas in the Forbidden Cities.

As the man walked off, Keefe slipped away. Even though he wasn't a Technopath, he had learned a thing or too from Dex's tricks— including a rudimentary idea of how to convert lusters from his birth fund to different types of human money. Sometimes he messed up and got too much or too little money, but he was getting better. So when Keefe walked into the restaurant to grab a bite, he had a handful of dollar bills from the nearest ATM.

Keefe scanned the menu, eyes lingering longest on the name of the familiar cookies: Digestives. He almost considered buying them— they were the only item on the menu he recognized, after all— but decided they were too dry. Instead, he took a risk and ordered the first thing that popped out to him.

He pointed to a random food item and said softly and quietly, "I'll have that."

The server cocked an eyebrow, "You seem a bit young to drink whiskey, don't you think?"

"Oh, sorry," Keefe said, even though he had no idea what whiskey was. "Then I'll have... that?" He pointed to "Chamomile tea."

The server began making some tea, so Keefe sat down at a table. He began thinking. About his situation, his mom, his life. Maybe he shouldn't have left the Lost Cities. Maybe it was foolish— but, was it? Was it really foolish to run away so he could protect his friends and family— if he even had any family that cared about him at this point? To make sure his mom couldn't do anything awful with him? To protect Foster?

Don't think about Sophie.

The rule was harder to follow than he had thought, originally.

And the heartache was even worse.

But as Keefe thought and his shrapnel heart ached, he remembered to focus on the one advantage of all this. The reason he had chosen Cambridge. There was a chance— a tiny chance— at learning more about a major blank spot in his past. So maybe, maybe when this was over, he'd have finally learned what Lady Gisela had made him do.

"Your tea's ready," stated the server, so Keefe got up to grab the drink. He took a sip and... ew. He'd prefer Cinnacreme any day.

That's when he saw three people in the corner of his eye.

A girl, a woman, and a man— probably the girl's parents. It took him a moment to realize who the girl was, but once he did, he dropped his tea, causing the delicate china it was made of to crack on the ground.

"Amy! Sophie must've sent you! You can't bring me back! STOP!"

That's when Keefe remembered his number one rule. Don't talk unless you have to, and definitely don't yell.

He had broken it, and now everyone in the restaurant was numbed.