Flesh and Bone

Chapter 19: Gather With A Long Lost King And Dream By A Lonely Tree

The cafeteria was always packed at this time, twelve o'clock high noon. The first and second years were co-mingling; the third and fourth years mostly ate at different times of the day. It was for the same reason as separating students based on tiers in the dorm: keeping the peace.

Sure, there was some co-mingling amongst all the years and the tiers at lunchtime before. But, apparently, being treated to the ever-present threat of the Jokers hiding around every corner now has put those warm relations on ice. Walls were being constructed within Wellston far beyond the physical ones that tended to shake, crack, and crumble from the power of its inhabitants. But these ones would not crumble under the weight of any paltry fists or blasts.

They were fortifications of necessity for survival. Without them, you'd end up crumpled on the floor spitting out your bloodied teeth like so many broken dreams. Facts like these were why the promise of the Safe House was a beacon of hope in a terrible time, but only just that— a fleeting fancy.

A ton of low-tiers and the few collaborative mid-tiers there were returned to cynicism when that bastion seemed to implode on itself. But not all of them were as ready to give up the fight; some still held onto that glimmer. Even if it was now far off in their memories, that noble experiment still held merit and support amongst a select number.

One of those defiant souls had been sitting in the cafeteria chatting casually with his best friend until he jumped at the buzz of his cellphone. He'd been expecting a text or a call from the Safe House, but definitely not this soon. After watching the boy for a moment, his friend asked what was up with the change of attitude.

He had wanted to play it off, but after seeing what Blyke had messaged it was sort of hard to keep calm and collected. It was a pity, too; a small but still sort of significant part of what had fueled him to enter this sort of secret partnership was to try and build himself up to be that way. Cool, connected and even impressive to his peers— with one in particular, albeit he wouldn't really admit as much out loud.

"It's okay," he sputtered as he got up, taking the trash remainders of his food in his hands as he motioned with them to a doorway, "I just remembered that I've got something to take care of."

"Are you sure?" His friend asked, her watermelon-colored eyes that so wonderfully matched her hair entertaining a look of concern.

But he was sure about it. When he told that bully about what he 'knew' about how Blyke and Remi were receiving all their tips and hints on what they and the other dregs were up to, he became committed to this. After he got that punch in the gut for some inscrutable offense the bully took before parting ways with the bait, his fate became tied with that of his new allies.

The day the Safe House blew up as its members scattered to their separate isolated corners, when he saw his best friend cry about how helpless she felt to stop any of it from happening, this one boy became certain that he had to get involved too.

But he couldn't tell her, not quite yet. So he gave her a smile, finding a bit of clarity in the mixed-up situation he was letting himself get dragged into.

"It's gonna be all right, Evie. I promise!"

Promises were silly little things, when put into a different perspective.

Sometimes as a little kid you promised your parents that you would study really hard in school and would ace that quiz if you got a little trinket in return. Your parents would say they'd think about it, but they'd decided long ago whether to reward you or not.

Sometimes you promised to yourself that tomorrow would be a little bit better than yesterday, even when you knew full well that it would only get worse. More mundane, more darker, more trivial.