Project HALO

Chapter 33

I have to peel myself out of bed the next morning.

In the daze of sleep, I forget about my bruises and begin to rub my eyes. The sudden stab of pain makes me flinch. My bruised eye is swollen and glued shut, refusing to open even as I nudge at it with a careful finger.

Other than a constant mini-pulse in my right eyelid and inside my eye, it doesn't hurt. It's just annoying, especially when Curtis sees me from across the room as he grabs a t-shirt from his nightstand. I force my expression to stay passive, but when I glimpse a bruise on his oblique as he puts his t-shirt on, a smirk tugs at my lip.

Before he can say anything, I throw my clothes on and trudge to the kitchen.

"Hey! You forgot something," I hear behind me.

Mikey crosses his arms. His eyes are bloodshot and droopy.

"What?"

"Me!"

I shake my head as he jogs over to me. "I had to go before Curtis opened his mouth. Only stupid things can come out, and it's way too early for that."

"You two have something in common, then," Mikey jokes, but I don't laugh.

"Too soon?" He slaps an arm over my shoulders.

"Too soon."

***

After breakfast, we're supposed to have another gun-session, but I'd rather get shot in the head than be in the same room as Curtis for so many hours.

"I know what we can do instead," Frank declares.

He's concerned about what might happen if me and Curtis are in a room together while surrounded by guns. We also ignore whatever happened yesterday, because there's nothing to talk about. I've already forgotten about it. Not that there's anything to forget about. It was late and I was tired and it's nothing. Frank is my friend-to-be and nothing else.

Frank continues, "We aren't supposed to train self-defense before tomorrow, but if you want, we could start today?"

"That means he thinks you can't fight," Mikey chimes in with his mouth full of mushy Cornflakes. Little drops of milk splatter on the table when he laughs at his own joke.

"You're disgusting," I say with a grimace. "And rude. But yes," I turn to Frank. "That's a good idea. As long as no one hits me in the other eye."

"It's just training, not actual fighting," Frank explains. "I'll only poke you in the eyes if you misbehave."

"Hm." I chew on some stale toast. "Actually, that might be a good idea. I wouldn't have to look at your stupid face anymore."

Frank smacks my shoulder while Mikey sprays some more drops of milk onto the table. I laugh as I try to dodge Frank's weak slaps.

"Maybe I'll make you go to the gun training after all," Frank says, lifting his eyebrow a fraction. "Or we can teach you how to hack. We'll do some lessons on that soon, as well."

"Sorry, I take it all back," I say, "if it means I get to fig—I mean, learn self-defense. No hacking."

"Can Mikey and I join?" Katia asks before Frank can answer me.

I wonder how she's still interested in Mikey after his gross behavior at the table, but their blushing cheeks and stolen looks confirm it.

"I want him to learn. It's important."