The Curse of Thelonious [✓]

epilogue

It had been four months since the two teenagers had broken the curse; four months since Lera had discovered what she was, four months since Atlas had left the town to live with his family.

They had kept in contact, texting often and sharing snippets of their lives with each other but it wasn't quite the same. They had been stuck like glue and it took a while to adjust to not having him around all the time.

Lera was sitting in her form class with Jubaida and Tia beside her, trying not to yawn as she pretended to listen to Mr Holloway droning on about the importance of Harvard referencing in their essays. She had stayed up all night, cleaning out her bedroom and compiling a photo album of her childhood. Her father had taken a lot of photographs of the girls as they grew up and Lera had enjoyed going through them, the memories coming back in a flash.

She had taken a photo of the class picture she found from primary school before they moved to London and uploaded it onto Facebook, tagging everyone she knew. It had been funny to look back at the way they were when they were five, round faces and missing teeth.

She had looked adorable in the picture, Anya beside her. It had been hard to tell which of the sisters was which, even for her but she had eventually been able to tell. The clue was in their smile.

She had also tagged Atlas, standing in the back corner, his eyes hard even at five years old. He had a sprained wrist in the photo - courtesy of Mad Manning - and Lera found herself grateful that the abusive monster had gotten what he had deserved in the end.

Lane had quit the family business after discovering his parent's part in allowing his sisters death in order to protect their honour and had instead gone into criminal law. Thankfully, his connections and popularity was enough to be able to allow him to work his way up and he took great pleasure in watching Manning Sinclair being put behind bars for kidnapping, domestic violence, intentional homicide and numerous counts of physical child abuse.

Lera fiddled with her pen as she took a few notes, her handwriting messy and her grammar all over the place.

She tried not to think about it but Atlas hadn't commented on the picture. In fact, he hadn't spoken to her for a few weeks and although she acted like it wasn't a big deal, there was a part of her that felt like it was sinking.

She missed him.

When they had first vowed to work together to uncover the truth of the mysterious deaths, she had been somewhat wary of him. But now, after all they had faced together, she only felt lost without him. Despite being in a classroom full of people who now widely respected her, she kept herself to herself, a selfish part of her wishing he had never left.  

The attention she had wanted whilst her sister was alive was something she had finally gotten but funnily enough, it wasn't important to her anymore.

She massaged her temples slightly and laid her head on the table, knowing Mr Holloway was completely going to let it slide. The entire town now knew what she was, what she had done and how much the two had gone through for Clearford. Constant appreciation was now shown to the girl they had previously ignored, all remembering the way she shone and well aware that she herself had destroyed the curse.

Her teachers monotonous voice was interrupted by a soft knock on the door and whispers began to float around. She closed her eyes, yawning again as she blocked out the gossiping beginning to rise.

"Good to have you back, boy," Mr Holloway spoke, the essays forgotten, reverence lacing his words.

Lera looked up slowly to see Mr Holloway was reading the letter he had been given, glasses falling down his crooked nose. Atlas was standing awkwardly beside him; his clothes clean, his hair shorter, face fuller and his usual stoic expression on.

Without a moment of thought, Lera jumped up from her seat, causing her pencil case to drop and her pens to scatter across the floor. She rushed to him without hesitation, grinning as he caught her swiftly, his body fitting perfectly against her own.

She raised her head up, standing on her tiptoes, and pressed her lips against his without a thought. His mouth stayed still, frozen in shock. She was about to let go, her ears tinging red in embarrassment as she heard Jubaida cheer loudly. But then he responded, his lips moulding to fit hers. Lera felt the slight clang as the metal ring around his neck hit her chest, the chain cold against her collarbone as she slowly let go.

The classroom was silent, evidentially stunned to see him again and their newfound relationship. 

Slowly, his cheeks lifted up and his dimples began to appear, like indents of joy heightening his features. And so, the boy who had previously never experienced any happiness, smiled widely.

"Whoa," he said loudly, against the silence, ignoring the astonishment of his classmates that were hearing his voice for the very first time. "It's nice to see you to."

Lera laughed.