Spun

Chapter 1

I hate F.A.T.E.... And I think the feeling is mutual. It's always seemed to be out to get me. Left me an orphan by 11, gave me a crippling addiction and generally seems to try to make me as miserable as possible. For instance, today. It's my first day of the 12th Semester and F.A.T.E. must've decided that I'm going Metro hopping today. Because as I ran out of my apartment building, all I saw was bus #91, (AKA: My ride to school) driving away. Leaving behind a cloud of stinky gray smoke, and a very aggravated me.

A month ago, I would've jumped, no pun intended, at the opportunity to metro hop. But that was before "the accident." Now I have trouble even nearing train tracks. F.A.T.E. knows this, and yet has carefully manuvered things so that this is my only option. I find it hard to believe it was mere coincidence that my alarm didn't go off this morning, that the shower refused to get hot, and the microwave conveniently stopped working, all on one of the most important days of my life. These events, working in tandem, successfully made me late. So now, I'm reluctantly walking to the rail tracks by Hurley's Pub. The 7:55 Metro will pass by there in a few minutes, and it's my only hope for making it on time.

A chilling breeze whirls around me. My silver ceremonial tunic provides little protection against the cold. I'd probably catch pneumonia if I weren't wearing my mom's hoodie underneath. It's a hand-me-down from her upper school days. I wrap my arms tighter around my wiry frame. A stray newspaper blows by me, like a tumbleweed from an ancient era.

A few people lay sprawled on the sidewalk, hungover from liqour or modding a buggy 'gram. Stepping over their legs quicky, I continue down the street, and the tracks appear. Now, I just have to wait... Ugh... This is torture... I think. I stare at the face of Lucius Kane on the billboard in front of me. He's the leading tech mogul of Aranea. And very easy on the eyes.

"Hey girlie..."

To my right, a few feet away, sits an old man. His salt n' pepper beard and sparse hair are unkempt, and his eyes bulge out a little. Most people would be afraid of him.

"Hey Smoggs." I say.

The man grins wide, revealing gaps from his missing teeth. "Did you bring me anything today?"

I slide off my knapsack. It used to belong to my father when he worked in security. My fingers run over the peeling seal of Aranea on its back. The spider that was once on the seal, has long been rubbed off, leaving behind it's fractured web.

Reaching into my pack, I pull out a brown paper bag. "Yeah. I was able to smuggle this out of our refrigerator." I hand Smoggs the bag. "Lettuce, tomato, onion and cheese. Hold the mayo."

"Aye, good girl!" Smoggs grins. It disappears for a second. "What's wrong?"

I shift my weight a little. "It's Assessment Day."

"Oh. I forgot that was today."

"Yeah it is. And having to do it without Zoran, makes it worse."

Smoggs rubs his chin. "How is that boy?"

"He's healing, but it's slow." Sadness pours into me, like rain from a cloud. Tears fill my vision, and for once my pale blue eyes have a reason to look like they're about to cry. I look off to my left, and try to control my emotions.

Don't cry Tess. Don't you dare cry. I say to myself. This cheap mascara probably isn't waterproof. I think jokingly. I blink my tears away.

"Whataya got for me?" A weak smile parts my thin lips.

Smoggs reaches in his large weathered knapsack and pulls out a metal box. He opens it, and inside is a little, handmade ring, with what looks like a bug figurine attached at the top. Gently, my slender, pale fingers lift it from his this thin palm.