The Thing About Timing (The Becoming of Elliott Goode)

Chapter 11:

 The next few weeks ran rather smoothly, or as smooth as they could with Elliott around. The young witch went and got some new clothes, a phone, and glasses, although getting her to pick her own stuff out was like pulling teeth. Cordelia paying for the stuff was even worse, every store they went to Elliott tried to sneak the cashier money when Cordelia wasn't looking. She had seemed to settle into the coven nicely, and seemed to be more outgoing and relaxed. She giggled with the girls at dinner and was always hanging out with Mallory in the greenhouse, practicing some new spell. Getting her to eat was still a struggle, if Cordelia wasn't watching her the girl would go all day without eating, sometimes two, but Cordelia was proud of the progress she had made.

While Elliott did feel more at home here, she was still a bit uneasy. This was foreign territory for her, and although she was giving it her all, she was waiting for it to fall apart. Things that were good in her life never stayed for long, and it was almost like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop, and drop it did.

About a month after Elliott had first come to stay with the witches, she received another text on her burner phone. "You need to make a run. Tonight." Elliott had almost forgotten her "Friend". He always had a way of showing up when she didn't want him to and wrecking everything she had worked so hard to build; it had been that way since they were kids. She responded with a short "K." and started to figure out how she was going to pull this off. She had to be on her best behavior all day, she couldn't risk Cordelia asking her to stay in the supreme's room, which had become a regular occurrence. While Cordelia had been more lax with her as of late, the young witch knew she was still watching her like a hawk. This had to go perfectly if Elliott was to sneak out without anyone knowing. A million scenarios ran through her head of all the things that might go wrong, and for each one she formulated a different plan to get her out of that house. If all else failed, she could throw a fit and storm off, but she had to leave her regular phone at home if she didn't want to be found.

Elliott's second phone buzzed and she had a time and place, he would give her the drop off location later. She always hated when he did that because it meant she would have to meet with him, there wouldn't just be a bag hidden for her. He knew she hated him, and he relished it. Every new place she moved he would follow her, always demanding more until she got caught or sent away, and she knew this was no different. Honestly, she didn't know why she hadn't just killed him yet. Maybe it was because she still had some semblance of a moral compass, or maybe she was just weak. It was probably the latter.

After slipping her phone into that secret pocket in her bag, Elliott made her way to the library. She needed to avoid the other witches as much as possible and limit her contact. She knew if she hung around Mallory or Cordelia they would suggest they go out and do something or possibly notice her uneasiness and prod her until she exploded. She opened a book and sat there for hours, staring at the same page. She couldn't focus, her mind all over the place. She heard the other girls walk by but didn't bother to look up, pretending she was deep in thought.

The more she sat there the more worried she was that she would get caught. Cordelia was the supreme after all, and she somehow always seemed to notice when something wasn't right. Elliott was terrified. The stakes were higher than they'd ever been, and although Elliott didn't want to admit it she would be crushed if the witches sent her away. It was easier when she lived with foster parents who didn't give a shit about what she was doing or who she was with, most of them never even bothered to learn her name. The group homes were harder to escape from, they were armed with security that would let them know if a door was even slightly ajar, but she still somehow made it work. If she could get out of there, why the hell was she so worried about the witches?

Elliott was jarred from her thoughts when Cordelia tapped on the doorframe, looking up as Cordelia smiled at her. She gave a small smile back, and although she tried to make it look genuine she felt like the fear was plastered all over her face. "Dinner's ready." Cordelia said softly.