Wednesday, August 29, 2018

Hazel Sinclair

“Did you think more about what I said?”

It had taken until this morning, but Megan had finally cornered me into a conversation; she was putting my hair up for me and knew that I wouldn’t have the will to bother doing it myself.

“There is nothing to think about, Megan. I do not want friends, and I certainly do not want to entertain these humans any more than necessary.” I rolled my eyes, buttoning up my blouse’s cuffs to occupy my hands. It was still unbearably hot out today, and I couldn’t help being annoyed about having to wear the prudish thing.

“It’s not about entertaining them, Zel; it’s about you needing to talk to people. You always make it sound like such a terrible thing, but really the humans here are kind of exactly what you need. None of them have any affiliation with the Academy, not to mention they’re all at a point in their lives where they’re desperate to figure out their futures. I mean, I get how Ana might come off as a smidge intrusive—“

“A smidge? She has absolutely no right to invade my privacy like that.” Megan’s hands slowed a little, indicating she was about to see how much weight the ice between us could hold. I could almost hear it buckling as she spoke.

“Zel, it’s not like she can control—“

“Then she shouldn’t fucking come near me.” She flinched at my voice, which had gotten dangerously snappish. It wasn’t all too often I cursed, particularly around Megan for no real reason, so the word had a particular weight to it that left Megan backpedaling a little. Her eyes flickered around, consciously trying to avoid mine.

“She can’t really control that all the time either. You might have classes with her and—“

“And she can certainly fix that herself.” I tried not to let her defense of the Halfling bother me; if she were to notice, it would only spur another lecture and I hardly needed another reason to abandon Megan’s entire rehabilitation plan.

“Hazel,” she sighed deeply in that familiar way that made my fingers curl into fists. Even after everything I’d been through, everything I’d done, Megan still talked to me like a child sometimes. It drove me nearly mad every time she did. “That just isn’t going to happen. Going through all this just avoiding Tatiana isn’t going to help you.” I could hear the snap of an elastic band as she finished braiding my hair and I immediately stood up and went to do anything else, rubbing the palm of one hand frustratedly down my neck and shoulder.

“Can I do your makeup?” Megan trailed behind me hopefully. I grated my teeth and did what I could to even my tone; I’d grown far too sloppy with my temper.

“No.” My response was undeniably clipped, but I had managed to smooth it out, if only just barely. Megan rarely offered to do my makeup with such imminent time constraints unless she had something to gain from it. I knew her well enough to know that while she didn’t really mean it, she’d have been more than happy to tell me she needed me silent while she worked, and would, without doubt, continue on with her lectures.

She blew out a disappointed puff of air, but neither of us had really expected me to agree. I think the last time I had agreed was just over a year ago, and even that had a very distinct set of prerequisites.

“Did you eat? I made extra ravioli last night and put it in the fridge for you if you want it now. Or for school. Maybe you should bring it to school with you, you might not like what they serve for lunch.”

“I ate.”

“Good, good, good. Okay! You’re all set? Ready for school? Did you pack everything you need? There are lockers, so we’ll have to go right to the front office so you can get your numbers, I don’t want you to walk around all day with all that stuff,” Megan’s voice faded out to a mumble as she continued rambling to herself.

“Megan, you’re doing it again. I told you to stop fussing.” When she threw me a guilty look, I lifted my chin. I had been trying to break her out of this habit for months now.

“Sorry, it’s just, you know I worry about you. And I know you can take care of yourself, but just, there’s still so much you don’t know about all this.” She went on again in that hushed tone, still mostly to herself.

“I know.” Heaving another deep sigh, I pinched the bridge of my nose and made my way out to the kitchen, Megan following close behind.

“Did Alïsï say anything about your next assignments? I talked to her last night, and she said she’d reach out to you once she ironed out some details.” She made a wary humming sound at the growl that escaped me. 

“She’s trying to convince some executives to allow me to move forward with my training, but they have been adamant that I need to be cleared by medical and psychology in order to do so; they will not so much as design a program until then. I’m incapacitated.” My throat tightened around the words like I’d choke on them, and the corners of my eyes felt hot and nearly itched. Anger felt like mud lodged in my throat, blocking my airway.

Megan made a sad sort of cooing noise that made my muscles strain. It was a physical kind of repulsion that I felt along my spine, through my shoulders, down my biceps and forearms until my hands were so tightly coiled I could feel my fingers going cold.

“Oh, honey,” she paused, putting her hand tentatively on my forearm as I started to turn away from her, “can I hug you? Is that okay?” She looked smaller, somehow, with her eyebrows inclined at the middle, and her eyes glazed over with a mess of fleeting thoughts. I sighed deeply, but nodded and let her wrap her arms around my neck; tentative, at first, then almost feverishly when I still made no move to stop her. I rested my hands on her waist, but couldn’t bring myself to relax at her touch.

“Assholes.” Her voice was quiet, though she summoned as much rage as she could into the word. It sounded deceptively meek, especially as it was muffled in the collar of my shirt.

“It is what it is.” I breathed, grabbing her wrists lightly and removing them from my body as I schooled my expression. “We’re running late.” Megan still looked grieved as I turned and left our apartment, though she didn’t seem to mind that I was keeping a faster pace to avoid her.