Young Writers Society

Wila flopped around on the sand like a dying fish with the blank expression to match. “I’m bored.”

“That’s not something you do when you’re bored,” Lucius said, wishing that the wooden block could be a more comfortable seat. The sand had to be burning while the sun’s rays hit with the force of a truck, and Lucius could feel the warmth through his boots. He didn’t want to imagine how the sand felt pressed up against his cheek.

“I do random things when bored,” she replied, rolling on her back. Wila brought up a sleeve to brush the sand off her face and only succeeded in getting more into her hair. She let her hand fall to the side, sighing and sitting up. “I hate boring things. Can I just sleep?”

“Well…” Sleep had worn away Mikhail’s troubled exterior to reveal a flaky smile. “I, I’m sure you may if you want… whether you can is another question.”

“True that.” Wila’s gaze floated to the distant forest and a grin surfaced. “What do you think Claud and Reyna are doing?”

“Nope.” Lucius sat up straighter, a frown digging into his face. “We are not going there again.”

“Party pooper,” Wila complained, but didn’t press it. She moved to lean on her right arm and sucked in her breath upon doing so. “Ow-oh-ow-ow-owwww…” The pained squeaks blurred into a single sound with bumpy pronounciation.

Lucius looked at her straight in the eye. With a flick of his eyebrows, he ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “Did you roll onto a stick or something? Or did the heat finally catch up to you?”

Wila stared back with uncomprehending pleasantness, and a couple seconds passed in silence as both parties waited for the other to speak. Then she averted her eyes and sheepishly chuckled, gently placing her hand on the injured area. “If only the sand was as smooth as magazines like to portray it to be.”

Lucius scrunched up his eyebrows in thought. He had gotten magazines before, but they tended to have pages torn out and the corners were usually beaten into roundness. Never once had he seen an article or photo detailing sand; there were mostly advertisements for cars far out of his price range.

“Anyways, forget about that,” Wila said, eager to put the awkwardness behind them, “do you want to go take a walk? Explore? Something along those lines?”

“Hey…” Mikhail shook his head and shot a glance at the forest. “Reyna and Claud told us to wait… Plus, it would be terrible to encounter a-another group of p-people…”

“Shush, child.” Wila bounded over to Mikhail and wrapped one arm around his shoulders, the other silencing him with the universal symbol for quiet in his face. “Look, you’re what, sixteen? You’re old enough to explore some fantastical arena. If we find someone, we run, alright?”

“I still don’t-“ Mikhail’s protest was stopped by a vicious body shake, rattling his next words. He shut his mouth and shot Wila what was like a glare with most of the annoyance drained out and replaced with confusion.

“We’re going,” Wila said in the sweet voice of impatience. Her grip on Mikhail’s shoulder tightened and she ignored his flinch. Then, she relaxed her expression into one of amusement and drew away from the boy. “Man, you get scared easily.”

“Then stop trying to.” Lucius stood up and stretched out his limbs. He stared at the line where the shade of the overhang ended, dreading the fast-approaching moment when he had to come under the sun’s reach.

Wila noticed this and her mouth seemed to struggle between frowning in impatience and smirking at the situation, settling for tightly drawn line. She stalked over and grabbed Lucius by his arm cuff and pulled him into the sunlight, not letting go until he had stumbled several feet away from the overhang. She pointed to the plains in a mockingly slow manner, then walked in the same direction, expecting the two to follow.

Lucius turned to Mikhail and raised his eyebrows. What’s got her so riled up?, he mouthed. While the message may not have completely transmitted, its content was clear.

Mikhail shrugged, just as lost as Lucius was. Ever since the fight, or at least witnessing it, Wila seemed to be upset by something. He clasped shoulder where Wila’s hand had been and shuddered.

His quickened pace did not go unnoticed.