《Darkling》22| Chosen
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I woke up the next morning feeling shittier than usual. So I decided to skip all my classes today. It's just a bad day, I guess. My head hurts, my body hurts. On the bright side, my lip doesn't. But that's because I healed it when I got back to my room. I'm so used to healing even the smallest paper cut that I forgot how bad cuts and injuries actually hurt.
I'm not going to class, but I still have to get breakfast. So I kept my sweatpants on and put on a shirt. I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and ruffled my hair so it didn't look so bad. But it just looked worse now. I shook my hair out and then grabbed my keys, heading downstairs. I rubbed my eyes while walking into the cafeteria, standing in line.
"You... look like shit. What happened?" I looked, seeing Wyatt walking over to me.
"It's just one of those bad, bad days. I'm staying in," I huffed.
"Okay," he shrugged.
"What's so wrong with that?" We both turned around as Daisy and Clara joined us, standing in line.
"I can't explain anymore, ask the principal," Daisy groaned, throwing up her hands in frustration.
"Why would the principal tell me why I shouldn't like Cal— ow!" Clara winced when Daisy dug her elbow into her ribs. "Oh. Oh shit, hi," she smiled, realizing that I was right in front of her.
"Hi," I smirked, taking a tray, passing it to her.
"Thanks," she mumbled. "You look, um... tired."
"Like shit," Wyatt nodded.
"Are you not coming for class today?" she asked.
"You really couldn't be any more obvious," Daisy whispered to her.
Clara rolled her eyes, jabbing her elbow into Daisy's ribs.
"Uh, no, I'm not coming for class today. Any of them, actually," I answered her.
Wyatt and Daisy stood in front of us and got moving with the line, we stayed behind. "Are you okay?" she asked.
"Yeah, I'm just feeling a little sick."
"Oh," she nodded in understanding. "Hey, your lip healed," she smiled, pointing at it.
"Yeah," I chuckled.
She put the back of her hand to my forehead. "You're a little warm," she frowned.
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"I'll take some medicine," I shrugged, grabbing a muffin and putting it on her tray. We all went and sat at the table. I poked my straw through the opening of my apple juice and sipped on it.
"Do you want me to collect the work for you? For the classes today?"
"You don't have to do that," I shook my head at Clara.
"You did it for me, I'll bring you the work," she smiled.
I looked up at the door and then choked on my juice at the sight I saw. She grabbed a student and asked something. Then that student turned and pointed at me. She rushed over, slamming her purse on the table.
"Mom?"
"God, are you okay? The principal called and told me what happened last night, let me see," she groaned, grabbing my face, assessing it.
"I'm fine, I'm fine now, Jesus," I sighed, pulling her hands down. "What are you doing here?" I asked, ignoring all the whispers and chuckles. I can't help it if she still treats me like I'm a baby. I glanced at Clara who was watching with amusement, enjoying her hash browns.
"Oh, who's this?" my mom asked, looking at Clara and Daisy. "Hi, Wyatt," she nodded at him.
"Mrs. Nikolai," he smiled with a curt nod.
"Um, this is Clara, she's new here. And this is Daisy," I stuttered.
"Hi," Clara smiled, looking up at my mom.
My mom gasped, her hand flying to her chest.
"Wh- uh, what's wrong?" I asked, looking between the two of them.
"Do I know you?" my mother asked, narrowing her eyes at her.
"Um, I don't—"
My mom cut Clara off, "I feel like I know you."
"I feel like I know you too," Clara mumbled.
"You don't!" They both jumped, turning to me. "She's uh, she's never been to Ilea before, right?"
If my mother remembers who she is, then chances are, she'll mention something about my powers scaring her. And Clara doesn't know I have powers yet, so I can't let my mom mention them.
"Right," Clara said slowly, looking at me weirdly.
My mom turned to me, "What the hell did you do to get into another fight? Tell me. What was it this time, Callum?"
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I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose, my headache getting stronger.
"He didn't do anything." I looked up and saw Clara talking. "It was out of nowhere but Callum didn't do anything. Not even retaliate," she said, shooting me a look.
"Why didn't you retaliate?" my mother huffed, folding her arms across her chest.
"Because the principal was already there," I groaned, repeatedly hitting my palm on my forehead.
"Does your head hurt?" Clara frowned, looking a little worried.
"Are you worried?" I asked, blinking in confusion.
"Are you sick?" my mom asked, planting her hand on my forehead.
"I'm here to eat and then I'll have medicine. Mom, go home," I huffed.
"But—"
"Please? Visit another time."
"All right, all right," she huffed, grabbing her purse. "Have that medicine," she scolded and then left, kissing the top of my head.
"Such a mummy's boy, aren't you?" Wyatt snickered. I glared at him, kicking his leg under the table. He winced, rubbing it.
I let out a sigh, ready to put my head down on the table.
"Wait, wait!" Clara put a hand on my chest, pushing me to sit upright. Then she pulled my tray back so I wouldn't face plant into my cereal. "There."
I huffed, putting my head down on the table and in my arms.
"We'll get going, bye," Wyatt said while he and Daisy stood up.
"Bye," Clara said, waving at them before turning to me. She cleared her throat, pushing her tray away, and then put her head down, mirroring my body so we were facing each other. "You okay?" she chuckled.
I shook my head, closing my eyes.
"You should go back to sleep," she said, sitting upright and taking both her tray and mine. "Come on."
I stood up groggily.
She tossed the trays and then grabbed her bag, walking out with me. "You look very tired, didn't you sleep last night?" she asked, steadying me when I nearly tripped.
"Not much," I admitted.
"What the hell were you doing?"
"Reading Delirium," I mumbled.
She sighed, shaking her head. She walked with me all the way to my room and then turned to face me. "Keys?" I absentmindedly handed them to her. She unlocked the door and pushed me inside, making me collapse onto my bed. I lay down, pulling the blanket all the way up to my chest. "Callum, I think you're sick. Like really sick," she sighed, touching my forehead again. "I think you're burning up pretty bad. Just... stay in bed." She threw her bag onto the floor and rushed out. She came back a minute later with her first aid kit and sat beside me.
"What are you doing?" I blinked. "You have class."
"That's not important. You're sick, just hold on." She took out the thermometer and put it up to my forehead. It beeped and she looked at the reading. "You have a fever," she stated. "What did you do last night?"
"Nothing," I mumbled.
"It rained late last night. And you're sick. You went out, didn't you?"
"Maybe," I admitted, turning onto my side, closing my eyes.
She pushed me onto my back and then took out a tablet, from the packet. She grabbed my water bottle and opened it. "Sit up."
I sighed, sitting against the headboard.
"Here."
I put the tablet in my mouth and swallowed it down with water.
"Now go to sleep. Drink as much water as you can and please go to the nurse if you feel worse." She closed my bottle, put it on my nightstand, and then stood up, taking her bag. "Keep the kit. Return it when you're fine," she nodded, turning my lights off.
"Clara," I said, already half asleep. I guess I didn't wake up feeling like shit for nothing. I'm sick. And I never get sick. So then, why the hell am I sick?
"What?" she asked, standing in front of me.
"Why did you pick me?"
"Huh?" she chuckled.
"Atticus met you first. He was so nice to you." I squinted, forcing my eyes open a little to look at her.
She looks pretty today. She's wearing a dress.
"You! Are the chosen one!" she said dramatically.
"The chosen one?" I snorted.
"Go to sleep, Callum. And get well soon. I need you to keep me company in my classes." She turned to leave but I grabbed her hand, pulling her back.
"I need someone to keep me company here," I shrugged.
"While you... sleep?"
I nodded, snuggling into my pillow.
She sighed, sitting beside me. "Text me when you wake up, okay? I'll come."
"And your class?"
"I'll go while you sleep. Text me and I'll be here."
"Thanks," I yawned.
She chuckled, pushing my hair back. "Sweet dreams," she sang.
.
.
.
.
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