KEEFER Of The Lost Cities(EDITING IN PROGRESS)

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

Monday was the worst. Not in the normal way, like, "Oh no, I have to wake up early and not eat breakfast because I'm late and it's the first day of the week, so I have to go to school for 5 more days until the weekend!"

Well, it was terrible in that way too. But what was the worst was the fact that they were going to school and there would be no Sophie Foster or Dex Dizznee waiting for them there.

He couldn't imagine going to Foxfire and not seeing either of their faces.

Keefe woke up late- a side effect of the sedatives. Not even bothering to get to school on time, he trudged through his routine, completely missing orientation.

He couldn't hear Lord Cassius or Lady Gisela. They must be out somewhere, celebrating Sophie and Dex's death.

If they were here, they'd be yelling at Keefe to hurry up.

Keefe made it to the kitchen, expecting to see Helia. Instead, another gnome was there, one who Keefe remembered learned how to cook from Helia.

"Hey, Belen." He greeted.

She turned to look at him and smiled, a soft sad smile that seemed to tell him that she knew exactly what he was thinking.

"Keefe," She said. "I guess you were expecting Helia, huh?"

"Yeah. It's fine though- you're the next best."

"I will take that as a compliment and hope that eventually I'll be as good as her. It seems impossible though. This place is a whole lot... scarier without her here."

"You can say that again." Keefe said.

"Oh! Aren't you late?"

"Um. Yes?"

"Here." She shoved some food into his hands- nothing sticky, of course. Then she pushed him toward the vortinator. "Hurry up! I'm dead if they find out you're late! Have a super awesome day!"

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

Keefe dodged students as he ran all the way to his locker, dumped his stuff in, and pulled out the things he needed. The crowd was thinning now, and when he got to the hall where his class was, it was entirely empty.

The bell rang right as he stepped inside.

Lunch was really weird. Him, Fitz, and Biana sat at their usual table, with Jensi and Marella.

But no one spoke. No one looked at each other. No one did anything but stare at their food.

It was disorienting.

After lunch, Fitz and Keefe walked together to their next class. Fitz finally said something. "We can't keep doing this. I know it's only been four days." That surprised Keefe. It felt like centuries to him. Oblivious to his surprise, Fitz kept talking. "But we should at least... help each other. We're all going through a hard time. We can't just ignore everyone."

"I guess." Keefe said, because Fitz was expecting a response from him. But he wasn't wrong. Going through stuff like this alone never gets better.

"Yeah." They walked in silence the rest of the way.

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

One terrible, exhausting week passed that way. There wasn't a single night he managed to make it through without sedatives.

He woke up screaming and sobbing. There was always a vial of sedative on the table next to his bed.

And school? That was a nightmare on a whole different level.

Every day, every moment was like he was in a dream. A nightmare. Not just when he slept. When he was awake too.

His routines became his life. His life became a routine. Nothing changed. The same motions every day.

Except when his photographic memory decided it was an appropriate time to imagine the faces of the two people he lost screaming for help all alone, with no one to hear them.

It was never an appropriate time. Every time, he jerked so hard the mentor would stop, stare, and ask if he needed to go to the Healing Center.

Every time he imagined their faces at lunch, he would flinch so hard the table would shake and the salt or pepper would fall over, drawing stares from everyone on the table and even from other tables to him.

Only he had a photographic memory, so his nightmares were burned into his brain.

And the small talk... the small talk was the worst part.

The "Are you okay?", "It must be so hard for you.", "I can't imagine.", and the "I'm sorry."'s were the worst.

Sometimes, he faked that he was feeling sick and needed to go to the healing center just to avoid them.

Sometimes, he didn't even need to fake it. Their sympathy made him feel sick. He knew they meant well, and he was grateful, but being reminded of it did not help at all.

Elwin always let him in, without question. No talking. He just opened the door and led Keefe to a cot, where he sat for however long he felt like.

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

On Friday, at lunchtime, Fitz had strangely stiffened beside him. He'd been doing this a lot.

Keefe was about to pass it off as one of his normal "stiffenings", but then Fitz muttered something under his breath. Only Keefe was close enough to hear him.

"What's Pont Alexandre?" Keefe asked. Since most of the conversations they had were in mumbles and low tones, Keefe speaking normally made everyone glance up sharply.

"Sorry.." He mumbled. They all went back to staring at their lunch.

Keefe felt a sharp and sudden pain on his arm. He glanced to his right, surprised. Fitz had pinched him. "Come over after school," he whispered. "I have something to tell you."

Old Keefe would have snorted and said, "Right. Because that doesn't sound mysterious at all."

This Keefe just nodded.

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

Keefe had almost forgotten how bright the gleaming gates of Everglen could be. He shielded his eyes from the blinding glow and reached his finger forward to ring the doorbell in the middle of the gates.

The door opened as soon as Keefe's finger touched the button, and he stumbled forward, not expecting the games to open so fast.

"Hi Keefe." Fitz said. Biana was behind him. She nodded in acknowledgement.

"Hi." Keefe said. "What did you want to tell me?"

"Let's go inside first." Fitz walked through the gates and Keefe and Biana followed closely behind.