The Silver Soldier

XIV

The next day, I follow the same routine I have every morning for the past two years. Except this morning I don't have my friends to run alongside me, or to throw eggs at me as I try and eat. Most mornings on Malgasco our breakfasts ended in someone covered in eggs and someone in a chokehold. And the person in the chokehold was usually Colton, who had thrown the eggs at me or Jack.

I will admit that I miss them. A lot. Even if they were an eternal pain in the ass.

I glance at the clock, noting that I have ten minutes to get to Juliette's house.

I can do it in five.

I put my dishes away, stuffing all of my homework into my bag as I make my way to the garage. When I got here, there were already four cars parked inside, each with a set of keys. If I wanted to, I could take one of these to school. There's the 1976 limited edition Toyota Landcruiser, which is worth a lot these days. Trust me, I know, I've wanted one for years now. Then there's a black SSC Tuatara.

It has a top speed of 330 m/h. Sometime I'll have to try that one out.

Then there are the last two, a Dodge Hellcat and a McLaren Spider.

But for today, I ignore them, instead taking my motorcycle. I speed down the roads, going at least 150. I pull up to Juliette's house at exactly 7:28. Two minutes early. When she comes out, I hand her the helmet, giving her room to get on the bike behind me.

I make sure not to go too fast. But still, even though she has no reason to, she has her arms around my waist. When we pull into the school parking lot, everyone is staring once more. I eye a group of six kids sitting at a picnic table in front of the school. They continue to watch us even when everyone else goes on with their morning.

One boy in particular, a kid with blond hair, watches me with disgust. I can smell him from here, he is most definitely a werewolf. And from the way I can feel his anger from this distance, he either has a crush on Juliette, or he's an old boyfriend.

Juliette hands me the helmet and fixes her hair. "What's wrong?" She asks, apparently she noticed my change in mood.

"Who are they?" I ask, nodding at the group.

"Oh, that's my-" she stops herself. "Those are my friends."

Pack. She was going to say pack.

I focus on every member, instantly knowing what type of creature each of them are. "Want to meet them?" Before I get a change to answer, she is already walking up to them. I have no choice but to follow. "Hi guys, this is Cole." She introduces me.

"Hi Cole, I'm Emma." A girl with blond hair says, a werewolf. She shares features with the blond boy, leading me to assume that they are related.

"Dean." Another boy says, sticking his hand out for me to shake.

"I'm Claire, and this is Mat." A girl with short hair nudges the boy beside her, likely her boyfriend. So far they've all been werewolves. Until I get to the next girl. A banshee. Like Lydia, but with black hair.

"I'm Jackie, it's nice to meet you." She smiles, although I can tell she thinks something about me is off. She studies me, her gaze landing on my stomach, as if she can see through my shirt. I remind myself that she can't, I have nothing to worry about.

"And this is Austin." Juliette gestures to the blond boy, then points to Emma. "They're twins."

"I'm the smart one out of the two of us." Emma pipes up, Austin glares at her. She rolls her eyes. "At least I know what 2+2 is."

"Dipshit." Austin crosses his arms, looking away.

"See." She laughs. "2+2 does not equal dipshit."

I can still feel Jackie's eyes on me, she knows something. I can sense the uncertainty radiating off of her. "Where did you say you were from again?"

"I didn't." I respond, looking over at her. "But I just moved from Russia."

"What's wrong Jack?" Juliette asks, sensing that same uncertainty I had.

"Nothing, I just thought he looked familiar."

"I've gotten that a lot since I got here." I explain. "Yesterday a lady told me that I look like some kid that died a few towns over. He had a Polish name, but I can't remember what it was."

"Stiles Stilinski?"

"That's it!" I pretend to suddenly recall. "I think it happened a few years ago, he was murdered, was he not?"

Juliette answers me. "They think so. He was at school when it happened."

"I met him once." Jackie says, her eyes on me. "He was friends with my cousin." Shit. She tilts her head. "I remember he had a birthmark on the back of his neck, about the size of a penny."

"I have one on my stomach, but not my neck." I lift my shirt slightly, just enough for them to see the light coloured birthmark above the waistline of my pants. I make sure not to lift the other side too high.

If I did, they might question Dr. Fridrik's methods of surgery.

Six months after I joined my friends on Malgasco, I got hit during a bomb defense test. The blast took out a chunk of my right ribcage, I had a large hole about four inches deep, fifteen inches wide, blown into my chest. I should've died that night. But Dr. Fridrik was able to put me back together. As of now, I have six missing ribs and half a lung. That whole side of my body was too far gone to heal on its own, so he replaced the missing parts with metal; titanium.

If I were to lift my shirt higher than this, Juliette's friends would see exactly what Hydra made me into. My arm didn't come out unscathed, it has scars, but it didn't have to be replaced, my whole upper chest did. There is metal all the way from my sternum to halfway down my torso.

It doesn't hurt anymore, not really. On the odd night it will sting, get harder to breathe. But it doesn't last long. Like the winter soldier, I have a red star etched into the titanium, right on my pectoralis major.

I lower my shirt back down, noticing how Claire's eyes linger a little too long.

Austin intentionally coughs, grabbing everyone's attention. "The bell's going to ring soon, we better get inside." Even though he's talking to his friends, I can feel his attention on me. While everyone else heads inside, I purposefully hang back. And just as I guessed, I feel a hand grab my arm.

I stop walking, something inside me wants to kill him right here and now. One precise hit to the throat and he wouldn't be my problem anymore.

But I don't. I stop myself.

I chose not to react, and he pulls me off to the side, pushing me against the brick wall.