Nothing Less than Extraordinary

xx9xx

Warren and Cariba fighting wasn't anything I wasn't used to. It's what they did. I, and everyone else, was well aware how much they liked each other and he had admitted to Lindsay himself that Cariba was his girlfriend. Even though she acted repulsed towards him, they still kissed and I was able to recognize the happiness on her face. She wouldn't have told me to shut up if I didn't.

But now, there was something else. I knew Warren cared a lot for Cariba, but at this time, I knew he was feeling rather alone, I'm sure. His best friend had almost died and had been resurrected as an even more super soldier out for blood; his parents had abandoned where he grew up and the thought of their son being alive; and now his girlfriend said she didn't care about being with him, even though it was just out of anger.

I'm sure all he wanted to do was be with Cariba. No matter how independent I could be, I knew well enough that having someone to be close with was a feeling like no other. It made you protective and scared and included all at the same time, but you wouldn't give it up for anything. In our time, Warren had a right to be protective over her, but Cariba was still scared of how she even felt about him. I had nights before staying up and talking with Cariba about how embarrassingly much she liked Warren (and how I liked Zaine), so I knew she didn't mean what she said, but like I said, the timing was everything and the two of them were both going through protectiveness and fear so much that it was hindering them from including each other in their problems.

I guess I felt like I'd be a good person to talk to because I was dealing with the same thing. It was just hard to admit.

I walked into the barn and saw Warren beating up a swinging boxing bag despite the medical boot on his foot. I didn't fail to notice the burned fabric only because he sent another left hook into the bag with just a flicker of a flame and the fabric ripped, spilling sand onto the barn floor.

"Shit..." he whispered as he walked over to the side to grab something to clean it up with. That's when I noticed the actual barn. It didn't reek of animal or seem as traditional as its exterior. Aside from the makeshift bedroom in the attic on top of the stairs, the entire barn looked like a converted gym. I saw the dented walls and multiple punching bags. There were targets and mats and even a motorcycle sitting in one of the stalls that wasn't turned into another room like the others. I wondered if this is where Zaine stayed and trained and hid out in from time to time.

I walked over to grab an empty metal trash can to help Warren, who was now on his hands and knees scooping up the sand. He kept gathering it on the floor and on a dust pan before looking at my shoes and elevating his eyes up to my face. He sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Cheshire didn't need to send you in here," he grumbled before dumping some sand into the trash can. "I'm still gonna go tomorrow."

"Cheshire didn't send me in here," I said. He sighed once more and wiped his hands on his shorts after realizing that the mountain of sand was a lost cause. He stood up and looked down at me with sweat dotting his forehead.

"Then what do you want?" he said before sitting down on a bench.

"See what you're doing right now?"

"What are you talking about?" he asked with a frown as he picked up a glass of water and drank it all in one gulp.

"You're trying to push me away—"

"Because you're being annoying."

"I'm being your friend," I corrected.

"Don't you have other friends?" he figured with a scowl.

"Yeah, I do and one of them is upstairs probably killing Cheshire because she's so in love with you," I gestured.

"Killing Cheshire because she loves me isn't my interpretation of unconditional," Warren commented. His demeanor changed. "She doesn't want to be with me let alone kill for me."