Young Writers Society

“Okay. That’s good?” I don't know how to react. Will seemed to tell me in a pretty indifferent way. I couldn't tell if I should be relieved or upset.

Will lets out a frustrated sigh, obviously expecting a different response from me. “I’m trying here, Bryn. I was in the library for the past three hours trying to figure out this code. Unlike some people, I took advantage of the distraction.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “Distraction. Colton was drugged, Will. Not exactly something you can just walk away from.”

“I did.”

“Because you care more about decoding that stupid journal than you do anything else!”

“You didn’t think it was so stupid when you found memories in it,” he retorts. “Stories about your childhood.”

“It's a lot, Will! All those stories...”

“So you chose to help someone you’ve always hated instead of trying.”

My hands ball into fists at my side. “I don’t hate Colton.”

“Yes, you do.”

There's barely a step between Will and me. I can almost feel his body warm with anger. “Well what did you expect me to do? Colton threatened me. I wanted to find out what he meant. And he wasn’t very well off, in case you didn’t notice.”

“He didn’t threaten you,” Will responded. “He just threw out the same insult he normally does. You shouldn't have even cared.”

“Sometimes we have to care about the people we hate, Will.”

“So you do hate him.”

“I do not!”

“You should. He ruined your career.”

“Almost ruined it. Caddarick gave us a second chance.”

“Which he shouldn’t have.” Will runs a hand through his hair. I should care that I’m getting under his skin. But the thought doesn’t even cross my mind. My temper is running so high that it blinds me.

He glares down at me. “How can you defend Colton?”

“Because he might have answers.”

“I have answers too.” Will pulls out his phone, hits the screen a few times, then shoves it in my face. “Vido is the cardinal.”

There’s a jumble of paragraphs on the screen, written in Will's sloppy handwriting. I try to read it, but his arm is constantly shaking. I can't focus enough to make out anything. “I can’t read that.”

“It explains everything,” Will practically shouts. “I found a book, one I was sure didn't have anything important. Vido’s first adviser called him the Cardinal. The nickname stuck for years, through many more advisers and counsels. Not many people know about it today.”

I stare at the screen, trying to make out the jumbled list of notes. The letters are slanted, pushed together where they shouldn’t be. I can't make out anything that he’s telling me. “Next time could you take a picture of the book? Then I might actually be able to read it.”

I duck as Will’s phone flies through the air. A crack resonates through the room as it hits the door. The material can't be damaged so I know it’s not broken. But I'm sure Will will regret it later.

“Do you even care about any of this," he shouts in my face. "Because I can stop now. Just give you back the journal and let you go crazy because you can’t figure it out."

I want to shout back at him, make him wish he’s never said any of it. But one look at his face and I decide not to. He's flushed, teeth clenched together. His eyes find mine with such intensity that should send me retreating to the door. It's something I've only seen from him before in combat; nothing that should be saved for the likes of me.

How did we get here?

An apology is on my lips, but I can’t seem to say it. My guilt is building in the form of a pounding headache. I don’t want to be the reason for anything coming between us. Even if I’m not the one to blame.

All I can do is wrap my arms around him. The hug is hesitant. I'm scared that he might push me away, leave for good. I stand there for an eternity, burying my head in his chest, willing him to understand. This is my apology and so much more.

Finally he gives in, his arms pulling my small body close to his. I can hear his heart beating through his chest, steadying with each passing moment. I let myself relax. We’re one and nothing can change that.

He pulls back, holding me at arms’ length. “You know that I care about you, right?”

“Of course.” I don’t know why he’s questioning it.

“So tell me what happened with Colton.”

I sigh. Does he really want to go back to this? "I already told you."

“No, I mean before they took him away. You remembered something didn’t you?”

The breath catches in my throat. “How could you tell?”

“That look you got,” he says, staring at me more intently as to not let me avoid the answer. “Pale face, empty eyes. It’s like you weren’t even there. What did you see?”

I don’t have to tell him. These are my memories, something I’m still trying to sort out for myself. Will doesn’t truly understand what’s going on so it seems like a ridiculous idea. It’ll only give another reason to worry. He’ll never leave me alone.

But he’s your partner. How can I not share this? He’s already read through my parents’ journal. I know he’s read about Ivan. It won’t be that much of a surprise.

So I start talking. I tell him about Ivan, the mission I don’t know the outcome of, the feeling that I was actually there. It wasn’t like a film playing on the screen. I was actually there; nothing like the memories I have of being at this school, or even the ones from when I was a kid.

Will doesn’t respond when I’m finished. He only stares at me, mulling over what I just told him. Sometimes it scares me how easily we can read each other.

He doesn’t get a chance to respond. The alarm cuts through the room, screeching in my eardrums. Even though each sound deafens me, I focus on the pattern. Three long and then a short.

We’re under attack.