Olive Juice

1 | 8

| 8

            I wake up to find Gianna's bed empty. My heart quakes like an alarm clock, waking up my other limbs. This can't happen twice. My Companions can't just... leave me.

As I slowly lift myself out of bed, I hear shuffling on Gianna's side of the room. I can't detect movement, but the sounds are undeniable. Something alive is hiding under her bed. Maybe she didn't leave. Maybe, someone took her.

The bed jolts. "Ugh. Olive, I need your help. I'm stuck."

"Gianna?" I ask, peering underneath her bed.

She waves a hand. Her eyes are still puffy and red. Her hair, usually curled to perfection, is matted and tangled. It's amusing to see her face squished against the floor. She slept under the bed.

"Why did you sleep down there?" I take her hands and tug. The bed moves more than she does.

"I thought you might attack me. You're obviously unstable, so I decided to take precautions. The bed was supposed to be my shield," she explains. The stubborn look in her eyes tells me she still believes the idea was a good one.

After several minutes, I successfully pull her out, not without a tear in her pajamas. She thanks me and orders me to follow her to the bathroom. Things are already back to normal.

"You're wearing more makeup than usual, aren't you?" I ask.

She applies powder to her nose and outlines her lips with crimson lip liner. "We have class today. I want our instructor to know I take pride in appearance as well as academics."

I forgot about class. In earlier Companionships, classes are held daily and the frequency of classes each year lowers. By eighteen, the final year of Adolescent Companionship Assignments, we only two classes the entire year. This year, we have one every other month and the focus is on history.

"You should hurry up. Our instructor should be here any minute," Gianna warns.

I shoot her a quick glare before brushing my teeth and tying my disastrous hair in bun. If she had told me what was going on sooner, I wouldn't have to rush. I guess I can't expect her to be helpful now. Even before last night, she never thought about anyone but herself.

I wait until she finishes and then rush to the room to pick out clothes. I grab shorts and tank top since they're the first things I see. Gianna shakes her head with disapproval. Apparently, my outfit is "too lackadaisical for a formal event such as class".

We walk into the living room to find Wyatt and Freder lounging in t-shirts and sweatpants.

"Look who finally decided to show up. Olive, I must say you look positively radiant in that outfit," Wyatt says.