A Change [18+] ||| Cazuki & iiieyes

[iiieyes]

A Change

 

 

Name: Jackson Peadar

Age: 20 years old – 2nd Year

Height: 5’11.

Appearance: Caucasian, very tan – Dark brown hair. light brown eyes.

Personality: Stubborn, learns the hard way, but works hard. Lacks social graces, manages pleasantness. Easily amused.

Other Facts: Worked on a farm (never played competitive sports anything). First in his family to go to college. (lived with a single mom – her dad’s farm.)

 

 

Nervous was not an average state for Jackson Peadar, but then again, today was not an average day. Despite his current situation, everything around him seemed to be goading him back home again. He sighed wearily at the temptation in front of him, plopping an elbow on the dolly beside him. It was stacked with five heavy boxes of guesswork that he’d unloaded from his mother’s car moments ago.

 

No, nothing had changed. The courtyard was still carpeted with pathways of concrete, its perfectly groomed accent rugs of grass seemingly untouched. Picnic tables were spaced out across the property and around a large statue of a golden hawk. At the wooden tables were young individuals, no doubt mingling on campus in preparation for the next semester. He looked at the height of the statue, and then up.

 

RIVERDALE UNIVERSITY

Student Union

 

A sense of pride surged through him when he looked up at the century-old lettering. Despite the concrete, mingling young people, and unreal grass, He was finally doing it! He knew better than most that his attendance at RDU was greatly attributed to a stroke of luck.

 

Having attended the last year at this place, he believed he knew his way around the buildings as well as anybody. However, he had to admit to himself that things were different, now. All of his belongings sat on a single pair of wheels and he had no clue where to find his dorm room. He knew he no longer could escape campus life after his classes were over for the day. Suddenly, Jackson awkwardly felt like the outsider, which wasn't far removed from his regular position. He shifted more of his weight on the dolly and sighed again, feeling sorry for himself.

 

Jackson's focus broke; it was getting louder out here. He realized that a group of cheerleaders had formed on the other side of the statue. They were performing practice cheers. A few taller gentleman seemed to cheer back to them in unison. They were wearing jerseys, which Jackson had really only seen on TV due to his homeschooling. He blushed. It wasn't often that he was on the the same part of campus as this crowd.

 

He rolled his eyes and decided to take the upset as a queue to leave. He was sure he'd be directed to his dorms in the Student Union.

 

What a pointless thing to compete in.

[Cazuki]

 

 

Name: Emmett Michael Green.

Age: 21 - 3rd Year

Height: 6'0"

Appearance: Tan Caucasian. Short, black, messy hair with bright blue eyes. Big, muscular build. Normally seen wearing the RDU sport's jersey.

Personality: Aggressive. Likes to make fun of even his friends and open about his feelings towards others, like or hate. Very athletic, though not particularly academically gifted or inclined. Easy to anger.

Notes: Hates being called Emmett. Most commonly refereed to as either Michael, Mike or Mikey. Owns an old, deep red Seat Ibiza and is a local to RDU, living at home.

 

Emmett was not the sort of man to get nervous. As far as he thought, being nervous suggested you weren’t on top of things. And Emmett was a man who was decidedly on top of things. Okay, well, maybe not everything. As Emmet drove down the road that lead to the court-yard of Riverdale University, his mind briefly wandered from the road to the large folder on the back-seat that was filled with pages of half-done holiday assignments and readings.

 

Emmett was far from stupid, indeed he was supposedly very intelligent, if he worked hard at his studies. It was just, Emmett had never seen the point in applying himself to academics. Conversely, when it came to sport, he was leaps and bounds ahead of his fellow-team members. While his football buddies had been lounging around, get laid and getting drunk over the vacation, Emmett had been training. An 2 hours in the gym once every 2 days if not more. Weight training, endurance, cardiovascular. He’d done it all.

 

It's alright, Emmet thought as he flipped his indicator to turn into the student parking of RDU, showing the security guard his pass, though the guard seemed less than attentive in examining it. I’ll just get the rest off one of the others. That was, of course, assuming anyone else had bothered to do all the work. Emmett’s teacher, Mrs. Gale, was well-known for her tendency to set extraordinarily high amounts of work. It was also well-known that she didn’t really care if it was all done or not. It was probably just a cover-up so she didn’t lose her job, anyway.

 

Emmett parked as close as possible to the gate leading to the main courtyard and student union, which wasn’t that close as the car-park was filled with other cars. Some were empty, but others were full of bits and pieces of furniture and boxes most likely containing clothes and other small items. That was one advantage to not living on campus, Emmett thought as he saw people pulling dollies stacked like towers and hefting heavy boxes.

 

As Emmett was about to get out of the car, there was a knock on the window to his left and Emmett looked out to see a familiar face, wearing his signature shit-eating grin. Emmett opened the door as the tall boy spoke.

“Well, look who’s here early. I thought classes didn’t start ‘till tomorrow. Not like you would care about that anyway.”

“Well, look who’s already running his mouth not two minutes into the new semester. You got a death wish, eh Warren?”

 

Warren smiled, stepping back to let Emmet out of the car.

“We all gotta die sometime, right? Might as well bring you down with me Mikey.”

Emmett grinned back, his eyes flaring with well-meant aggression.

“How nice of you."

“I’m always nice. Anyway, what're you doing here?”

“None of your business. Just thought it might be nice to come say ‘hola’ to the team.”

“So, in other words, you want to berate them for not training during the Summer, right?”

“You got it.”

“Heh, well, might as well get this over with.” Emmett now stood next to Warren and, as Warren walked towards the gate to the student union, Emmett followed.

 

Warren was a fellow football team member, normally playing running-back. He was tall, ruggedly handsome with blond hair and stubble and faster than a cheetah on speed. He was also Emmett’s closest friend.

The two walked side-by-side into the courtyard, ignoring the plethora of students, both new and old, rushing around to get themselves ready for the new semester. In the centre of the courtyard, by the statue of the golden hawk that served as the school’s main meeting point, a small troupe of cheerleaders stood, practicing, while some other members of the football team stood around, cheering in unison or talking with the others.

 

“Hey, you heathens! Your almighty messiah has returned to smite you all into an oblivion.” Warren announced as they closed in. The boys swiftly turned around and most smiled as they saw Emmett approach. A couple closed the distance and greeted Emmett, giving manly hugs as they slapped Emmett on the back and asked how his vacation had been.

“S’all good. I hope you’ve enjoyed it too, ‘cause from now we’re gonna train twice as hard to get back to where we were last year.”

The announcement caused some members to wince, while others smiled devilishly. Emmett was well-known as a harsh taskmaster when it came to sport. As Emmet began to enter into other discussions, he caught a glimpse of a familiar face across the court-yard, walking into the student union building off to the left. Emmet’s face darkened.

 

That little shit. Guess he’s living here now.

Emmett gave a small, positively evil grin.

Nice to meet you again, Jacky.

[iiieyes]

Jackson passed through the automatic doors of Student Union with his tower of belongings in tow. The wheels under his heavy stack of boxes made an unpleasant sound on the tile floor that seemed to announce his entrance to the entire building. His jaw was beginning to hurt from the contorted frown he didn't know he was maintaining.

 

Although he knew he could find a staff member to look up his dorm and building number in one of the offices here, he preferred the option of speaking with his childhood friend, Sarah --- he was fairly certain that her shift at the bookstore today was around this time. I hope there isn't a line out the door when I get there. I want to get my class schedule printed, too.

 

It was one of those things about the school that was really quite surprising, the lack of security on personal information. It was mostly due to the student employment that existed throughout the campus. Other than places like the book store or the cafeteria, there were even jobs available at several of the offices here. Most of them required some use of the computer and its mainframe. Jackson applied for a tutoring position during his first semester and was employed right away due to his financial aid status.

 

Then he heard the sound of dress shoes clicking from down the hall, growing steadily louder. As he passed the corner, the clicking shoes stopped.

 

"Awh! Hey, shorty!" A tall, well-postured man with a full beard stopped in front of him. Jackson slowed his dolly to a halt, grinning at the man. The man was beaming back at him through sleek, rimless glasses that seemed almost as shiny as his combed hair under the bright lights. For some reason or another, he was looking at him proudly, as if he himself had willed Jackson into existence. His kindly smile turned into a diabolical one. "Summer tutoring wasn't the same without your constant scowling."

 

Jackson appeared to be the poster-child of petulance. "I do not," he insisted, crossing his arms. Then he lightened and gave a smirk. "...'sides, Aaron, even if I did, it's better than whatever you've got going on here," he prodded, lifting a hand to motion towards his own chin. The satisfaction was sucked out of the professor's face immediately. Jackson smiled harder.

 

His shoulders slumped. "You don't like it?!" he exclaimed emphatically. His voice echoed throughout the empty hall. He lowered his tone. "And, you prolly should call me Professor Wattick here, kiddo. I don't want the other kids to forget I'm an authority." He stated this loftily.

 

Jackson nodded, hoping he seemed thoughtful. Even though we both know you don't have an authoritative bone in your body. He shifted his weight to his other leg and gave a light shrug, speaking sedately, "And yeah, I dunno, it just kinda makes you look old."

 

The professor's eyebrows raised as if he was only humoring Jackson. "Note taken. But Miriam likes how it feels when I--"

 

"OKAYTHAT'SENOUGH" Jackson bellowed, his hands only moments away from covering the teacher's mouth before his arms were caught by the much taller man's grip. Ugh, no tact! Is he begging to lose his job?! He was smirking as Jackson struggled, pulling out of his grip. Their laughter echoed throughout the hall and subsided.

 

Aaron's watch began beeping. He sighed as he looked at the time and turned the alarm off. "Alrighty, Jacks, I gotta go. Staff meeting," He sighed. He seemed less than enthused. "I'll see you at the Tutoring Hall later this week. We have to go over some stuff for the new recruits, so you know. I'm gonna need your help with our new math people."

 

Jackson nodded and began to move his dolly again. He head snapped up at the professor suddenly. “Oh, by the way, I’ll stop by the math building and drop off the Fall Exam answer keys with the department head so you can double check them,” both hands were on the dolly now. “I finished them last night.” Aaron pumped his fist.

 

“Ooooooohhh!! Awesome!” The man was almost blushing. Jackson’s brow raised. So loud. "Yeah, I'll drop them off after lunch." The taller man looked like he wanted to hug him, but refrained. “Thanks kiddo. Really didn’t wanna do ‘em.” He looked at his watch again and let out a whine. “Okaaaaay, I really gotta get going. See ya later.” Jackson waved a tan hand languidly at him as he departed, leaving through the entrance of Student Union.

 

Jackson began rolling the boxes again, his light brown eyes staring off into nothingness as he walked. What're we gonna do about that guy? He shook his head. He was only a few doors down from the book store.

[Cazuki]

Emmett’s eyes followed Jackson, like a predator scoping his prey, until the latter slipped through the automatic door of the Student Union building, dolly in tow. Emmett made a few moves to follow. He hadn’t seen Jackson since the end of the last year, and while Emmett and Jackson were the furthest thing from friends as possible, Emmett couldn’t say he didn’t miss him. Besides, anyone would miss having their own personal punching-bag, right?

 

However, before he could split from the small gang of football team members that had formed next to the hawk statue, he felt a friendly hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Warren, smiling.

“Come on Mikey, I know you wanna go and say ‘hi’ to Jackson, but could it wait?”

Emmett narrowed his eyes at Warren. Despite having the tactical prowess of a lemming, Warren was damn perceptive when he wanted to be. Emmett guessed that was a trait shared by all Philosophy majors; perceptive and annoying. Warren continued.

“Come on, I wanna introduce you to someone.”

 

Emmett’s ears perked at that and his eyes shifted from glaring to having one eyebrow raised in questioning. It wasn’t often that Warren knew someone that Emmett didn’t also know, seeing as most all of their collective friends were either in the football team or cheerleading troupe. Neither had friends in their respective classes who weren’t a member of either of these two things.

“…Okay, now I’m interested.” Emmett smirked, pushing the thought of a new year’s beating to the back of his mind. Warren’s grin grew wider, though it also seemed to wobble the slightest bit, as if something was making him nervous. Now, I’m definitely interested.

 

Warren took his hand off Emmett’s shoulder and turned to walk in the direction of the Arts and Humanities block of RDU. As they walked, side-by-side, Emmett observed the hustle and bustle around him. While happy he didn’t have to go through the stress of moving back-and-forth from college every semester, he’d always wondered what it would be like to actually live on the campus. The closest he’d ever got to the experience was when Warren had let him sleep in his dorm after he was too drunk to drive home. At that time, the pounding headache and prospect of his father yelling at him for not returning home had dampened the experience. It’s not like he wanted to move away from home anyway, really. Didn’t stop him wondering though.

 

As Emmett’s train of thought ended, the two boys entered the Philosophy branch of the Art’s building. Warren walked with purpose, his step more excitable than usual.

“So, hey, who’re we talking to?”

“It’s a surprise.” Warren laughed, almost skipping now.

“You know how I feel about surprises, Warren.” Emmett frowned, though he couldn’t say he wasn’t intrigued.

“Aw, fine, you spoil-sport. You know that glowing thing they teach you about in junior high?”

Emmett paused. “Yeah, the ‘Soul Lantern’ thing. What about it?”

“Well, I-“

“Warren!”

 

They looked down the hall to see two girls at the end of the hallway. One was small and cute, the other slightly taller and curvier. Before Emmett had a chance to say anything, Warren blasted off, full-speed, from his side, running towards the two girls.

 

“Becky! My darling!”

Your what?

[iiieyes]

Jackson parked his dolly by the entrance of the campus book store. A sharpie sign was taped to the glass window of the door. It was obviously made by several people over a course of time.

Please leave your bags and overcoats outside of the book store!

and turn your cell phones off!

please

thanks

 

As he moved to the door handle, Sarah noticed him through the glass. She was with a customer but gave him a cheesy smile anyways as she placed several textbooks in a plastic bag.

 

She was a busty girl who was always dying her hair. She was rather attractive and had a long, crooked nose, the kind of nose that made her beauty seem less intimidating and made her hard to forget. It was the same nose her father had, and for Jackson, he also was hard to forget. Growing up without a father was bearable when Sarah’s dad was around.

 

She finished up with her customer as he entered the store. Thoughtlessly, Jackson made a b-line to her counter and walked directly through the gentleman’s path, who clearly had two very heavy bags of books. The man made some sort of surprised chortling sound and stopped short to keep from running into him, his heavy bags swinging in his hands. Sarah looked at Jackson in disbelief.

 

“Really, Jackson??!”

 

A shudder involuntarily ran through his spine. Ugh... She never calls me that.

 

The gentleman he nearly ran over actually let out a laugh at this reaction, his anger dissipating. Really weird. The guy wasn't much older than Jackson.

 

"Well, don't just stand there, you barbarian! Open the door for him."

 

Jackson did a double-take at both of them, seeming completely uncoordinated with his body. "Ah--oh, I mean yes, sorry..."

 

Sarah rolled her eyes and began clearing off the counter of returns and other excess material while Jackson opened the door for the other student. "Aye, don't mention it, buddy, the first week always has everyone out of sorts." They shared an obligatory laugh as the man left, although it took Jackson a moment to realize that's what was acceptable. He let the door creep shut as he walked back over to the counter, eyebrows raised. He leaned, propping up an elbow and resting his chin in his hand. "Way to make me look like an ass."

 

"You make yourself look like an ass." Jackson scowled at her. She sat down in a chair behind the counter, crossing her legs and sitting back.

 

"Whatever. Heyso, you mind pulling up my info and seeing where I'm gonna live for the next year?" He was making a face that he probably thought was meant to be appealing, but not quite pulling it off. He was even wiggling his eyebrows.

 

Sarah smiled as if she couldn't help but to, but something in her eyes fell. "You're hopeless, Jacks." She had already turned to the computer at the counter and begun typing into the system. "You want your class schedule, too?" The tone of her voice made this sound like less of a question and more of a statement.

 

"Pleeeease? You're awesome."

 

Sarah's face flushed. Jackson was oblivious. He was letting his eyes wander around the room distractedly. He looked out the window where there was a perfect view of the golden hawk statue.

 

He saw a black head of hair.

 

He froze.

 

Shit. His heart began pounding hard and his head began to ache. The nervousness was back. He blinked a couple of times. The jersey the man was wearing had the name GREEN across the shoulders. Shit. He was with another jersey. The jerseys began walking off to some place.

 

....cks."

"Jacks."

"JACKS."

 

"Shit! Ah! ...Sorry. Sorry, Sarah."

 

She handed him three sheets of paper. He hadn't even heard the printer. One had a detailed description of his class numbers, locations, and times. The next one was a copy of this sheet. The third sheet was his student profile with his dorm information. He looked at Sarah with gratitude and was about to thank her until he noticed her narrowed eyes. "...What??"

 

She looked at the window and back at him. At first, he wasn't sure she would actually say anything at all. Then she did.

 

"Aren't you going to do something about that? You can't just avoid the guy forever and get beat up when you fail." She seemed genuinely worried but also frustrated. Jackson said nothing.

 

"You could report it to campus PD," she continued. Jackson stared at her like she'd turned blue.

 

"You haven't even looked at what dorm you're in." She really was a good friend.

 

He looked down at his sheets of paper, bringing the third one to the front. He scanned the page. "...Hastings Hall?"

 

She grinned slyly. Jackson couldn't tell why. "We're in the same building!" She exclaimed this excitably. He wondered vaguely if his mom had anything to do with this.

 

He smiled back. "We can get breakfast together in the mornings." She nodded. She seemed noticeably more excited than him. "And you can help me move my stuff." She said nothing.

 

"Okay, Sarah, I'm starving. I'm gonna go to the cafeteria. Can I put my stuff in here until you get off work? I'm tired of lugging it around..."

 

"Sure thing. Just put it in the break area."

 

"Thanks."

 

He moved his belongings and folded up the sheets of paper that Sarah gave him, putting them in his jean pocket.

 

He could feel his stomach rumbling as he walked down the hall to the cafeteria.

[Cazuki]

Emmett wasn’t given time to puzzle through Warren’s out-of-character statement as by the time he had uttered it, he was already half-way across the corridor. That’s the team’s star running back for you. Emmett followed, not running, although he was walking fairly quickly.

 

On the other side of the corridor, the smaller of the two girls dashed forward.

“Warren!”

 

The two met in the middle, grinning at each other, both blushing up to their ears. Emmett was instantly reminded of a romantic-comedy his sister had watched once, where the leads ran across a field, meeting each other in the middle. He internally gagged. Looking across the corridor, it seemed the other, curvier girl had the same reaction, though more overtly than Emmett, making a gagging pose as she pointed at Warren and the girl who was presumably ‘Becky’.

Emmett closed the gap, as did the curvier girl, leaving all four of them in the middle of the hall. It wasn’t like anyone would mind, classes weren’t starting until tomorrow anyway. Becky started, her face flushed as she looked nervously at Emmett.

 

“Oh, um, hi! I’m sorry if I was interrupting an important conversation or something.”

 

She was a good head smaller than Emmett, her long hair a darkish brown with a butterfly pin in it. She was wearing a brightly coloured skirt and cute top and buttoned-up jacket. She reminded Emmett of a deer… caught in the headlights.

 

“Um, no it’s s’alright, we weren’t real-“

“Yeah, yeah! Don’t worry Becky, we were just talking about you!” Warren interjected. There was the annoying part. Becky turned to Warren and suddenly all the worry on her face dissipated as if it had never existed.

“You were? Aww, Warren.” Warren grinned even more, if it was even possible. Emmett was now thoroughly confused. He raised an eyebrow to Warren, who shook his head slightly, as if to break a spell.

“Oh, right! Introductions! Mikey!” He pointed to Emmett. “This is my darling, Rebecca Kingsly. Becky, this is my guard dog, Emmett Green, though you better call him Michael or something if you want to get through the year intact.”

 

Emmett glared pointedly at Warren, resenting the comments. He wondered if he should punch him, when Rebecca spoke to him, breaking his concentration.

 

“It’s um… nice to meet you… Michael.” She looked very nervous, so Emmett tried to stop himself glaring, though he probably still looked scary. Warren had always said he looked scary, even when he was happy.

“Yeah, hi.” He waved in what he thought was a friendly manner, though he noticed the girl flinch as he raised his hand. Warren stepped in again.

“So, now that you two know each other, I wanna announce something else.”

 

Something else?

 

Emmett had no idea what was going on, but Rebecca seemed to intuitively know what Warren was talking about. Both of them reached for their buttoned up jackets and undid a couple of the buttons. As they did so, a faint, wispy light began to show through their clothes, one red, the other blue. Emmett’s eyes widened. Warren grinned at him.

 

“Yeah, that’s right, I found ‘her’. My soulmate!”

Emmett must still have looked confused, so Warren continued.

“You remember that ‘welcome to RDU’ day thing I had to do during the vacation? Well, I was put in charge of touring the Arts and Humanities department. Becky is coming in as a freshman and is hoping to major in Art, and that’s how we met. We just saw each other and boom! Lantern!”

Rebecca looked down at the ground, shyly, though she was smiling too. Emmett was shocked. Warren had never shown any serious interest in girls, and now he was acting like a love-struck 13-year-old. Despite that, Emmett found it in himself to smile, through it came out lop-sided.

 

“That’s great man. I’m happy for you.”

“Of course you are! That’s why I wanted to introduce you two! Aw, man, now we can go get lunch together and she can watch our games and we can go drink-“

Warren was interrupted, this time by the curvy girl who stood a little ways behind Rebecca.

 

“Um, it’s nice that your happy Warren, but could we cut to the chase? I have to go meet the other girls.”

Emmett examined the other girl and remembered that he already knew her. She had long blond hair, with curves in all the right places. She was a member of the cheer squad and second-in-command.

 

Caroline Hopkin, right?

 

“Oh right, yeah. Thanks Carry, I’ll take over from here!” With that Warren smiled, buttoning up his jacket again before he took Rebecca’s hand in his. Rebecca smiled shyly, squeezing his hand. Warren turned to Emmett. “Smell ya later?”

“How old are you, five?”

“Turning six this year!”

Emmett chuckled.

“Yeah, maybe, depends.”

 

Warren smiled one last time, before he and Rebecca walked off down the corridor, down the way he and Emmett had come. Emmett turned back to Caroline, who made another gagging gesture before walking back the way she had come.

“See ya later, Mike.”

 

This left Mike in the middle of the hall, dumb-struck.

Grr…

His stomach rumbling snapped him back to reality.

Oh well, might as well go eat something. He thought as he went to the cafeteria.

[iiieyes]

Jackson's nerves were keeping up with him since the one-sided conversation he had with Sarah. He was hoping some lunch would help them, but was starting to think he wasn't going to be able to eat. Somehow it made him feel worse when the bullying was evident to other people, especially someone who had known him for so long. He just hoped it wouldn't trickle into his job at the Tutoring Hall. He checked behind himself several times as he walked through the halls of Student Union. Whew. No jerseys. The sounds of endless chatter billowed out of the massive room along with clinging of silverware and the smells of warm food.

 

He walked over to the line and waited absentmindedly, his tan skin seeming grayed and pale.

 

The worst part about it all was that during class times, the Mathematics building was the most dangerous place for him to be. Emmett was majoring in the subject and Jackson tutored it. He was genuinely surprised that he never saw the guy at work. He grimaced at the possibility. Hopefully, whoever he gets his homework material from is reliable, he entertained hopefully. Jackson never really considered the notion that the guy might not be stupid. His face was contorting again.

 

"Can I help who's next, please?"

 

Jackson looked up to see the server behind the glass. She wasn't here last year. She looked to be a few years older than him. She also seemed sort of disgusted at the expression on Jackson's face. This didn't make him feel any better.

 

There were several things being served, and it all seemed to be quite an improvement from his last visit here. Perhaps the plan for culinary students to have work-study in the cafeteria pulled through. It wasn't fancy, but it definitely seemed more appetizing. No wonder Student Union was so empty; everyone was here in the cafeteria.

 

He ordered chicken fingers and fries, grabbed a soda and proceeded to the check out. After talking with the cashier, he stuffed his change and the receipt in his pocket and walked his food out to the dining hall. He exhaled a deep breath. He was feeling a little bit better.

 

He saw a black head of hair.

 

Shit.

 

He saw blue eyes.

[Cazuki]

After Emmett had made his way successfully to the cafeteria he looked around. There were a couple faces he recognized, but there wasn’t anyone there who he felt he had to talk to just yet. Besides, he hadn’t come to mingle, he’d come to eat.

 

This is what I get for skipping breakfast. He grumbled internally. He wished his dad wasn’t such an incompetent cook, sometimes.

 

He walked up to the serving line, placing an order for 2 slices of pizza and some fries. Some of the servers recognized him and smiled, waving. Emmett had cultivated good relations with the catering staff over the past few years. After all, they had been the ones to teach him to be able to cook more than a slice of bread. He owed them. He waved back and gave his lop-sided smile, knowing that he couldn’t exactly have a proper discussion with them at the moment.

 

Maybe later, he thought, picking up his tray of food and walking over to the cashier to pay. After paying, he hefted the tray though the open double doors that lead into the main dining-hall.

The room was filled to bursting with students. Some tables were filled with people having animated conversations, most likely about their respective vacations. Others were more quiet, with new students introducing themselves and taking the first ginger steps towards making friendships for the coming year. A thought occurred to Emmett.

 

Better make sure the recruitment drive’s on track later. I’ll ask Warren if I see him.

 

He was looking around for a seat when his eyes settled on something very interesting. He started to smile. Brown hair. He smiled. Brown eyes. The corners of his mouth pulled up in a grin, though the result was anything but friendly looking. In fact, he looked down-right terrifying.

 

It’s time to teach this nerd his first lesson of the new semester.

 

Emmett proudly walked up to Jackson, the terrifying grin still in place as he practically slammed his tray down on the table, sitting opposite Jackson.

“Nice to see you again, Jacky. How was the vacation?” His tone was pleasant, though laced with obvious venom.

[iiieyes]

Jackson had tried his hardest not to appear startled at the boy's actions. So. Loud. He forced back a groan as brown eyes met blue. He realized then that he didn't do a very good job at hiding it.

 

"Oh, it's so wonderful of you to ask, Emmy," he responded almost too quickly. He had hoped that he sounded cool, but he was not quite as talented at hiding his hatred. Regardless, he felt satisfaction surge through his body as soon as he had the chance to retort.

 

It was almost pleasurable, because it had not always been like this; for almost the entire first half of his time here at RDU, he'd been too terrified to do anything. He would jump at every attempt Emmett made to scare him. He even screamed a few times. The worst. Anytime things got physical, it was as if the fear of him reset. When he feared Emmett less and less, it would always get worse. He wondered to himself if his courage today came from the long summer away from him.

 

That didn't mean he wasn't still terrified. He even had an obscure thought that maybe the man had sharpened his teeth over summer in order to make his smile scarier.

 

Admittedly, he was aware that any vengeance he sought against the man would be awarded with punishment.

 

The empowering moment was fleeting as his nerves began to return, so he started to eat his food with purpose. He didn't want to seem affected by this at all, so he battled to keep his composure. He realized he was definitely more on edge than normal now that he was meant to live here.

 

I hate you.... I hate you so much. What do you want from me?

 

Sitting across from the large athlete, he felt like a shadow. As a farmhand, he was in pretty good shape, so this inferiority pissed him off further. He felt something horrible boiling his insides as he looked at the blue eyes of the taller man. He burned at the fact that this stupid jock, who was not much talker than him, intimidated him so greatly. There was so much he wanted to say. Instead, he watched the other carefully as if the whole scene were in slow motion.

[Cazuki]

Emmett observed Jackson’s reaction like a hawk, or a snake, waiting for the gap in which to swallow his prey whole. Jackson didn’t react as much as Emmett thought he would, but that was to be expected. After all, distance tended to make people more defiant. Emmett’s chest started burning with adrenaline.

 

That’s the good stuff.

 

"Oh, it's so wonderful of you to ask, Emmy."

 

Emmett’s blood froze, his whole body dropping to what felt like sub-zero in a split second. There it was. He smiled more, though his eyes betrayed his flaring anger. Emmett thought that maybe he would feel bad for Jackson if Jackson didn’t provoke him. Of course, the guy couldn’t know why called him Emmy provoked him, nobody did except Warren. All the same, the singular word was like adding wood to the fire and, after the freezing, adrenaline pumped even faster through his body, setting it ablaze.

 

Jackson turned to his food, chomping through in what Emmett knew to be an attempt to escape from him. Emmett was determined to crush that hope. Emmett practically dove into his food, mowing it down with the gusto that only an athletic man could manage. He didn’t have time to savour the food, which he was slightly annoyed about, but he didn’t care. The real meal would come after, anyway.

 

Truthfully, Emmett didn’t know why bullying Jackson was so invigorating. He’d bullied others before, yeah, but never to the extent he did Jackson. When he’s met Jackson a year ago, by accident, something had just, clicked. Hatred had started to pore out of him like a rapid and it had felt so good. It had felt good to take his frustrations out on Jackson. As he’d learned more about Jackson, he’d learned to hate him even more. He didn’t know a lot about Jackson, but he didn’t want to. All he knew was that somewhere, deep in his chest, Jackson caused a spark of fury to light in him.

Warren didn’t approve of it, though he’d never tried to stop Emmett. He just assumed that Emmett would get over it eventually.

 

Well, I certainly ain’t getting over this.

 

Not 6 minutes after he’d sat down, his food was gone. He looked up at Jackson again and smiled his lop-sided, evil smile. He got up, wandering to the other side of the table and grabbing Jackson’s shoulder. To the casual observer, it would look like a friendly touch. After all, the few spit lines they had spoken had sounded civil enough. Not like if Jackson called out, anyone would do anything anyway. Emmett was a top-dog and had… connections.

 

“Do you wanna come with me Jacky, eh? I got something really cool to show you.”

His grip tightened and he glared at Jackson.

“Now.”

[iiieyes]

The time it took for Emmett to eat his lunch seemed to drag on forever, but he was horrified at the reality. The black-haired man was hurrying to beat his ass. So Jackson was right; it got much worse when he resisted.

 

Jackson gulped. That smile was a nightmare to him, and he knew what was coming. A hot fear that he hadn't felt in several months began to strangle his throat and prevented him from talking.

 

He rolled over in his mind all of the moments he could recall like this. He wondered what he had done in the first place to make this man hate him so much. His thoughts went like this every single time, and he never found an answer.

 

He was nearly paralyzed when there was no longer a table between the athlete and himself. He was getting angrier by the minute; angry that no one noticed what was happening, and that those who did didn't care. He felt helpless. Every moment was spent weighing his options.

 

It took him a moment to respond. Emmett's hand was burning into his shoulder and creating an itch he couldn't ignore. Jackson wasn't sure what to do, or how to stop this from happening. If he were honest with himself, he knew all he was doing was putting off the inevitable.

 

He didn't want to turn his head - he didn't want Emmett to see his face. But both happened. Jackson felt like crying, but he refused. He glared back at the boy who made him feel small.

 

He stood up with no intention of throwing away his food. In fact, he'd stopped eating with any real fervor as soon as he knew what he'd done. He was just going to throw it up, anyway. But he never broke eye contact with Emmett; He refused to do that, also. He'd wished his eyes could burn holes in the man. Why do you hate me so much?

[Cazuki]

Emmett noticed Jackson’s hesitance and inwardly chuckled. When Emmett had first started harassing Jackson, the boy had been so terrified that he was shaking. As time went on, the weight of inevitability must have sunk onto his shoulders and he didn’t react nearly as much as he had done before. However, Emmett could imagine that somewhere in the nerd’s brain, deep down, he was looking for a way out. And that made the fact he couldn’t escape all the sweeter.

 

Jackson turned his eyes to meet Emmett’s, glaring in an obvious display of hatred.

That’s good. We understand each other, Emmett thought.

Emmett hated Jackson and Jackson hated Emmett. It was a cycle. Jackson didn’t stop looking into Emmett’s eyes and Emmett didn’t stop either, light brown clashed with bright blue in an electric battle to show their hatred for each other’s guts. Through the eye contact, as well as the contact of Emmett’s hand to Jackson’s shoulder, he could feel an electric pulse, almost as if power was directly flowing from Jackson into Emmett. Emmett grinned. It was a really good feeling, though he couldn’t remember when it had started to feel that way.

Deciding it was time to move, he broke eye contact with Jackson and pushed his shoulder, prompting Jackson to move.

 

“You know where to go, right? Our ‘special place’?”

 

The ‘special place’ was an old janitor’s closet that had been cleared out and abandoned years ago. The university had moved the supplies across the campus and had forgotten to put something else in the room, so nobody went down there normally. It was well-placed too, being in a smaller out-building equi-distant from the Student Union building and the Mathematics department. The building was older than most, so it didn’t have any cameras, relying on security patrols once in the morning when the university campus opened and once during the late evening, when the campus shut to outsiders. It was the perfect place, and so, Emmett had taken Jackson there most of the times when they had their little ‘meetings’.

[iiieyes]

Jackson felt like a prisoner in shackles being prodded by his captor. Though it wasn't physically true, it became reality. Perhaps that's why these small, meaningless acts of rebellion leveled him just enough. Whether Jackson was preventing Emmett the pleasure of hearing the fear in his voice, or to see him break down, it kept him holding onto his sanity just enough.

 

“You know where to go, right? Our ‘special place’?”

 

The sickly churning in his gut staggered him. Sick, perverted bastard. ‘Special place’. That sadistic voice echoed in his mind. He hated when Emmett called him that. He hated being called Jacky, like he was a helpless little girl. Humiliation overwhelmed him.

 

Jacky.

 

Jackson looked away from Emmett almost immediately. He did all he could to calm himself. So, he smiled.

 

"Sure!" He mustered up the most believable grin he had left in his depravity. If this was going to continue happening to him, he was going to take advantage of Emmett's deceptive approach. If Emmett didn't want people to know that he was torturing Jackson like this, Jackson wasn't going to wear it like a badge of honor, either. He couldn't risk another conversation like the one he had with Sarah today.

 

He began walking, heading out of the Student Union. It was his intention to prevent Emmett from saying anything else for as long as possible, though he knew that choice was not up to him. He reveled in the small amount of power he felt from being the first to move, to have done something to make Emmett follow him for a short moment. Another small thing to level him.

 

The thought of running crossed his mind more than once, but he didn't want to make things worse for himself later on. Not running was the wisest thing to do. Besides, an unfortunate secret was settling inside of Jackson that he would rather die than admit.

 

Many times he'd returned home in the last year with bruises on his body and injuries that required bandaging, and never did he tell his family. He put everything he had into hiding this horrible thing that was happening to him. But, Duh. Who would want everyone to know you're being beat up by a dumb jock like him? It's common sense. He was reasoning with himself despite already knowing the truth.

 

Adrenaline was flowing like a river coursing through his body. This hatred was unlike anything he had felt in his life, and it only seemed to grow stronger every time. Jackson would try to stay calm while calculating Emmett's next move. It was like playing chess, but the terms for winning were different for either player.

 

He was terrified and enthralled at the same time and he didn't know what to do with that kind of information. Pain Emmett had given him a year ago would sting and ache miserably. Now, it made him feel stronger every time the wounds would heal. The desecration of his person made him feel human, somehow. He knew it was wrong.

[Cazuki]

"Sure!"

 

Emmett nodded, smirking. While he would’ve loved to have to physically drag Jackson, kicking and screaming, to the janitor’s closet, it made things so much easier when Jackson simply accepted his fate. He didn’t care what Jackson thought. He didn’t care if Jackson thought he was being smart, or somehow equalling Emmett by trying to be civil. All Emmett cared about were the results. And the results would always be the same, no matter what Jackson thought.

 

Emmett followed Jackson closely as they walked out of the Student Union building, like a jailer escorting a prisoner to the electric chair. Emmett didn’t speak and neither did Jackson, which Emmett didn’t mind. He wasn’t like those movie jocks who felt they always had to say the last line to defeat their opponents. No, he wasn’t that dumb or easily provoked. Besides, he would have the last laugh anyway. He didn’t think that Jackson would make a break for it. He’d done so before and every time, Emmett had out-ran him. That’s the kind of skill you got from being the football team captain and quarterback.

 

No, he won’t run. Not like I care, really. Just makes the process a little smoother.

 

The adrenaline continued to pump, contracting his muscles and sharpening his focus. The feeling was addicting and today it was particularly strong. In fact, it was the strongest it had ever been. He wondered if adrenaline alone could make someone feel this good, this energized.

 

They closed in the small out-building that their ‘special place’ was in. The building was only 1 floor and was relatively small, though the walls were made of thick layers of breeze-block, another good thing, as the insulation meant little sound would escape the room. There were also very few windows, seeing as the building had only ever been a maintenance area. He closed the gap between him and Jackson and easily pulled in front of him.

He put his hand in his jersey pocket and pulled out a small, strange-looking key. It was a skeleton key; which Emmett had had made ages ago by one of his father’s associates. The key didn’t work on most of the doors in the school, seeing as most of them needed security codes or pass-cards to open. Never mind the fact that one could easily be seen breaking into a room without permission in most of the campus. However, the key was useful in situations such as this. He pushed the key into the old door and carefully turned it in the lock, finding the appropriate teeth to open the door. The door clicked open, swinging inwards.

 

“You first, Jacky.” He said, pointing inside the dark building. “Down the hall, last door on the right, though I doubt you need me to tell you that, eh?”

[iiieyes]

For how long had Jackson yearned for the day that there would be this silence? Months, at least. But now that it was here, he was unnerved in a way he thought impossible. For one of them to finally speak was a relief, but that horrible nickname grated against his brain like sandpaper nonetheless.

 

Asshole. Oh, how badly he wanted to say it out loud. He wanted to scream it in Emmett's face. Why? Why me? When will this be enough for you?!

 

"Down the hall, last door on the right, though I doubt you need me to tell you that, eh?"

 

Jackson felt unusual as he was standing right next to the football player when he'd said it. He felt like he was watching a pendulum swing back and forth, Jackson's personal lie of a solid even playing field collapsing over and over again.

 

He turned his head, staring at Emmett. Jackson's face was nothing short of solemn. For the first time in all of their encounters, he genuinely wondered what motivated this man to make his life a living hell. He had an earnest look about him as if asking for this to stop. He felt pathetic and was compelled to look away.

 

Again, he didn't wait for Emmett's response before he began walking. Every step brought them into progressive darkness. The room seemed to be radiating something black and evil. Please, just let this be quick, he begged internally. It made Jackson's urge to scream at Emmett even stronger.

 

When they reached the end of the hallway, Jackson stood hesitantly at the door to the old, abandoned closet. The entire building smelled like dry rot. The scent of moisture was especially strong back here. He looked at Emmett again, though he didn't know why he bothered. He was stalling a lot more than usual.

 

"Whatever you're going to do, just do it already." The words escaped his mouth before he had the chance to think them. He hadn't said it very loudly. He got the sense that the jock was stretching him thin on purpose. His anger flared up again. Fuck, why did I say that?

 

It felt as if a fever was coming over him, making him weak. He knew that Emmett could see him sweating through his white t-shirt. He felt light-headed and sick. He wondered if he was brought to the floor, would he even be able to get back up? This building was so well-insulated that everything felt far too warm. Shit, I might puke before this even begins.

[Cazuki]

Emmett watched Jackson to see what he would do. If Jackson was feeling tough, he might’ve tried to run away now. But he didn’t. Instead, he turned his head to stare at Emmett. As Jackson’s earnest eyes met Emmett’s, Emmett felt the fire of his hatred burn hotter and he had to stop a shiver running down his spine. The feeling was certainly stronger than it had ever been before. Under normal circumstances, with time to think, he may have questioned it.

 

However, now wasn’t the time to question things and think. Thinking just made things more complicated. No, this was a time where he could just let loose and forget everything. Sometimes, he liked to imagine that Emmett Green ceased to be an entity at these times. So did Jackson, to an extent. Increasingly, these sessions had become something more abstract than beatings and verbal abuse. Jackson didn’t know how to describe it, though he was sure Warren would have a field day talking about philosophical theories if he mentioned it to him.

 

Jackson looked away and walked into the building. Emmett smiled, following behind and closing the door. His eyes adjusted to the darkness slowly, but there was just enough light that the adjustment was fairly quick. The two walked together to the end of the hallway. Jackson looked at Emmett again with the same expression as before and, yet again, Emmett felt the fire within him flare, higher and higher. He passively noticed that the room was growing too warm and he felt like he was slightly suffocating.

 

"Whatever you're going to do, just do it already."

Jackson’s voice broke Emmett’s concentration. As if a switch had been flipped, Emmett raised his arm, smiling.

“Gladly.”

 

He let go of his arm, letting it shoot forward into Jackson’s chest. Without pausing, he shifted forward and grabbed Jackson’s shoulders, using his tense muscles to push him into the closet. He let go of Jackson, raising his fist again for a second blow.

 

This is it, he thought. The room around Jackson seemed to glow red, lightling up the darkness slightly, though dimly. This feels great. My body feels great. I-

Wait, what?

Emmett stopped, lowering his fist. The mad haze that had filled his mind had gone and for now he felt lucid again. He looked at Jackson and the room and then at the red light that lit it.

 

Wait, there aren’t any lights working in here. How could this place be….

A cold spike of dread ran down Emmett’s spine and he looked down at his own chest.

“Please don’t tell me that-“

Light was brimming from his chest, faint and wispy, but very definitely there. Emmett had seen that light so often in stories and had been told about it by many people before. He’d even seen it today, when Warren had been with Rebecca.

“Soul lantern. Wait, then who’s-?”

He looked back at Jackson, hoping beyond hope he wouldn’t see what he thought he would see. A small blue light sprung from Jackson’s chest, combining with the red. Where the rays cross, they melded together to create a dark purple.

 

Emmett stepped back subconsciously, his grin dropping instantly, replace instead with a look of confusion and terror.

“You’re my…”

 

He stopped, blinking.

Then, he dashed, sprinting back through the building like a wild animal.

He almost tripped several times on discarded boxes and bins, tipping them over and causing loud din as he escaped. He ran out of the building, not once looking back and not even bothering to lock the door again. The light still shone from his chest, though it was much lighter now. He continued running nevertheless, making a bee-line for the student parking. The further he got, the fainter the light became but his instinct remained the same.

 

Run! I don’t know what that punk did but I’m not sticking around to find out! I’ll get him tomorrow.

 

Or, at least, that was the reasoning in his head. Inside, his emotions were flying around in a tornado. Confusion, hatred, anger and shock span round and round. In the depths of his chest, the fire that Emmett had felt before continued. This time, however, he knew what it actually was. It wasn’t adrenaline anymore. It was endorphins.

 

He got to his car, his hands shaking uncontrollably as he grabbed his keys from his pocket and opened the door. The light was gone now, though he swore he could still see small tendrils leaking from his chest. He piled into the car and started the engine, reversing out of his spot and out of the parking-lot before he had a chance to even think. As he sped away, down the road, his mind cleared.

 

"Aw, hell no!"

[iiieyes]

“Gladly.”

 

Jackson had winced before Emmett struck him. The giant athlete always hit him with such force, but today, he was especially aggressive. The olive-skinned boy let out a deep guttural sound upon the impact, falling back, only to be caught and forcefully pushed into the small room. Damn it. I really pissed him off. His back hitting the wall almost hurt more than the punch to his chest. The deteriorating drywall behind him had taken in a large, shallow dent that was slightly smaller than his back.

 

His breathing was laboring a lot more this time than it had in the past. "Fuck," he gasped. He felt like he really might suffocate in here. He was hit so hard he had tunnel vision; it was a searing white rim around his sight, making it difficult to see. I hit my head really hard on that wall. He continued to struggle for air, surrendering his body weight against the wall. Jackson was making soft rolling movements against the wall as if to soothe himself from the pain.

 

Breathing came easier when he realized that the second blow never came. He'd expected to be in really bad shape by now, but he was still afraid to see why Emmett had stopped his attack. Maybe it's some sort of cruel joke, he thought to himself pitifully. He'll probably hit me even harder if I seem too hopeful.

 

He blinked several times to regain some vision, looking up to see what had stopped the man.

 

The voice he heard was completely foreign to him. He blinked a few more times and expected to struggle to see Emmett in the darkness after such a hard blow. Instead, he could see Emmett's face clearly over a glowing, red light.

 

Jackson had never seen such a look on the man's face. After a whole year of this, this was the first time he saw Emmett as anything other than an awful bully. But now, the football player seemed panicked. Horrified, even. If Jackson weren't baffled at everything going on, the appearance of the man in such a vulnerable state would have brought him satisfaction. Instead, it brought him immense anxiety. It was the only thing that confirmed to him that this wasn't a prank.

 

Emmett's blue eyes were especially intense with the red light bouncing off of them. Jackson almost stopped breathing entirely. He couldn't believe it. His mouth slacked, hanging open dumbly.

 

“Please don’t tell me that-“

 

Maybe he really had died this time.

 

Out of the corners of his eyes he could see an equally bright blue reflecting off of his own cheeks. The feverish feeling he had earlier had changed into something else.

 

He could feel the makings of vomit bubbling in his stomach.

 

“Soul lantern."

No.

 

“Wait, then who’s-?"

NO.

 

“You’re my…”

 

No! I don't want to hear someone like him say it...

 

Really, I'm gonna be sick.

 

The man had vanished.

 

Jackson turned and vomited on the floor.

 

Jackson's mouth was still hanging open. Alone for the first time in this abandoned building, he could see every small detail of the closet, glowing in blue light.

 

He had heard of Soul Lanterns. They learned about it in junior high, after all. Sometimes the discussion was present during sex ed. But there was no promise it would happen to anyone. Truth be told, Jackson had never given it much weight. Romance wasn't something he cared about. He'd never been interested in girls or guys. For the most part, he'd only heard of it happening; supposedly it happened when his grandparents met, but he figured it was just a story. An exaggeration, maybe.

 

But, there he sat with the blue light emanating from his chest. The feeling welling up in his solar plexus could only be described as a deep depression, but it was also hot and yearning for some kind of safety or return to reality.

 

How is this even possible?

 

Is this what I deserve?

 

For what seemed like minutes, the light stayed. Jackson didn't know what else to do other than stare at it.

 

The adrenaline pumping through his being was beginning to subside, and the blow to his chest was beginning to hurt much more without it. He felt like crying again. He placed his hands over the light from his chest, wishing it to go away. It was dimming, but slowly. Shadows moved rapidly on the walls where his fingers were blocking the light.

 

Emmett's fists had never hurt him like this before.

 

 

~END CHAPTER ONE~

[Cazuki]

~Chapter 2~

 

*Beep, beep, beep, beep!*

Emmet’s alarm blared loudly, the mechanical sound cutting through the cool morning air like a hot knife. Emmett growled, rolling over painstakingly slow to slam his hand down on top of the alarm. The blaring stopped instantly, and Emmett breathed out a sigh of relief. He cracked open one eye, looking at the digital time display.

 

5.30 AM.

 

To most, this would have been an unbearably early time to get up, especially considering Emmett’s first lecture didn’t actually start until 9.00 and Emmett was only a 30-minute drive from the RDU campus. However, this was normal for Emmett. He slowly got out of bed, yawning as he blinked the tiredness away from his eyes. He was still wearing his clothes from yesterday, jersey and all and as he looked down he grumbled about having to iron out the creases again. He walked over to a dresser on the far-side of his bedroom, pulling out some generic clothes and putting them on the bed. He changed quickly, grabbing his shed clothes and walking out the bedroom door.

 

He walked down the stairs of his house, walking into the laundry room and throwing them into the basket on the floor. He’d do that tonight. He kept his jersey, sighing as he pulled down an ironing board from a hidden section in the laundry-room wall, putting the jersey onto it. After he plugged the iron in, he had sometime before it heated up to an appropriate level. His mom had never been an early adopter when it came to new technology, so most of the stuff in the house was old and broken in one way or another.

 

He walked out into the kitchen that was connected to the laundry room and turned on the coffee machine. His father, on the other hand, was always looking for the newest thing. Anything that he had to do with, mostly coffee, security and entertainment, were brand-new and expensive.

Speaking of Emmett’s dad; on the kitchen counter, next to the coffee machine, was a small note with an envelope taped to it. Emmett hardly needed to guess what the note was going to be about, but he read it anyway as the machine cooked up a caramel latte.

 

Dear Emmett Jr.,

Emmett shuddered, only his father ever called him that.

I’m sorry I couldn’t see you off today or drive Hannah for you, but I had to get to the office early today. Money’s in the envelope as per usual. I hope you have a good day and try not to get in trouble.

Your father,

Emmett Sr.

 

Emmett sighed. His father was probably the only man alive who could make a note to his son sound like a formal letter. He put down the note and opened the envelope, with was filled almost to bursting with notes, big and small. Emmett stashed some in his wallet, which was in his jersey pocket and put the rest back down on the counter. It wasn’t like anyone was going to steal it.

 

*Beep boop*

The coffee machine dinged it was done and Emmett picked up the sweet drink from it. He sipped it and sighed happily, enjoying the creamy, sweet taste.

Sue me, this is the nectar of the gods.

It wasn’t that Emmett hated black coffee, it was just he liked the sweet version more, though be damned if he let anyone except Warren know that.

 

By 7 o’clock, Emmett had already ironed his jersey (which he was now wearing), drunk his coffee (another one on the way), turned on the TV and made breakfast for him and Hannah. Nothing complicated, just eggs and bacon.

 

I need to get some stuff from the store when I get home.

 

Emmett knew he sounded like a house-wife, but he’d learned long ago not to care about it. The way he thought, his father was incompetent at looking after anyone, save by shoving money at their face and his baby-sister needed someone to look after her. Thinking about that reminded him. He needed to wake her up.

Emmett walked back up the stairs to his sister’s room, knocking lightly on the door. No response.

 

“Hannah?” He said through the door, “it’s your brother, time to get up.”

Groaning. Emmett smiled lopsidedly.

“I’ll give you to three.” He counted down on his fingers. “One…” Clattering sounded from the other side of the door. “Two…” muffled yelps and the sound of someone stumbling. “Thre-“

 

The door opened inwards, revealing a short girl with long black, messy hair and deep hazel eyes. The girl didn’t look at all happy, glaring up at Emmett even though she was about as intimidating as a bunny-rabbit.

“That’s really not fair, Mikey! You know that a man shouldn’t intrude into a lady’s room without permission!”

Emmett grinned devilishly. “Oh, so you’re a lady now? Last time I saw, you were a ten-year old brat who couldn’t tie her own shoe-laces.”

“I can tie them!”

“Sure you can.” Emmett said, his voice reeking of sarcasm.

Hannah huffed, blowing out her cheeks and pouting. Emmett grinned at her, pulling her into a hug.

“Aw, now the ‘lady’ is mad at me. Should this knight of yours kiss your feet and make it all better?” He used the chance to spin Hannah around, placing her on his back in a piggy-back style. Hannah shrieked, grabbing tightly onto Emmett.

“Wait, stop! Hahah! Mikey, you’re scary!”

“Come on, let’s get breakfast.”

Hannah huffed again, only responding by holding Emmett’s shoulders tighter and nodding into his back.

“Okay.”

 

About 40 minutes later they were ready and out the door. By the time Emmett had dropped Hannah off and gotten to RDU himself, it was about 8.30.

 

Perfect timing. Emmett thought, his chest swelling with pride. As he parked though, his mind suddenly flashed back to yesterday’s events, causing him to wince and feel a pang of… something. He growled.

Get yourself together, Emmett. Just… don’t go near him today. Yeah. Just do that, and this’ll all die down in no time.

He nodded to himself, getting out of the car and walking towards the Maths department.

[iiieyes]

Nearly every morning, Jackson awoke immediately. No coffee, no tea, no energy shots. Most days at 4:00AM He tended to wake up alert, have a drink of water first thing, and most often times eat breakfast. It was a thing of friend's nightmares and an average mother's dreams. But, for Jackson, it was his way of life and his personal routine to rely on.

 

He had started helping on the farm when he was a small boy, around seven years old. Even back then it wasn't unusual to wake up so early. It was the farm that still belonged to his grandfather, although the man he appeared to be now was far different than the man he remembered growing up. Aside from Sarah's father (an odd man who refused to tell Jackson his first name until the boy was 15) his grandfather was the most impactual man in his life. Jackson had begun with tasks like milking cows and mowing sections of the large plot of land.

 

To him, it was unusual that he was pinned as the 'nerdy kid' throughout junior high and high school if you only looked at his background. Despite being in good physical condition, the boy had no aptitude for competitive sports. He hardly had an aptitude for people, as it was. And in addition to that, he had made a promise.

 

"Jack, promise me something." A man in his early 60's sat on a porch in a plastic chair. He was balding very slightly and smiling. The sun was beginning to set.

The young bronzed teen blinked meekly, startled by this straightforwardness. "Ah... yes, Papa?"

The old man's smile faded vaguely. "You see all this out here?" He gestured a newly-wrinkling hand to the land behind the two-story house.

The teen pushed his overgrown coco-colored hair away from his face, beaming proudly. "Yeah!"

The old man seemed amused by his grandson's enthusiasm. The smile had completely faded, now. "It will not take care of you forever."

"....Grandpa."

"Some day, it will not be enough to take care of you. Of your mother," he added hastily. "Promise me something," He asked, louder now, trying to keep Jackson's focus.

Light brown eyes blinked. The boy said nothing.

"Promise me that you will do what the rest of us failed to -- get an education. Go--Go to school. Take care of your mother when I'm gone. "

Nothing, again. Grandpa frowned.

...Hadn't he?

 

The problem was, after all of the events of yesterday, his morning was ruined. He hardly slept at all and he hadn't done a thing with his dorm except for delivering the entire dolly to a closet in his room. He managed to get about two hours in on his sheetless bed, and even then, woke up at 6am. His first Math lecture was at 8:30AM. This didn't give him very much time to get his routine together. He hadn't even gotten his class notes from the online course mainframe. A total. Fucking. Mess.

 

It took everything he had to keep Sarah off his back yesterday. He sighed just thinking about her overbearing quality. Well, She'll be a great mom someday. His own mother already called him not 16 hours after his arrival yesterday morning.

 

Riiiing! Riiiing! Riiiing! Riiiing!

"Hey, Mom."

"Hey honey! How was your first day!"

"Mom, I just came today to unpack my things. There's no cla-"

"I know, I know. I just wanted to make sure you're alright."

He sighed. "Thanks mom. Everything's fine, don't worry." She laughed at this attempt of his but didn't pry.

"Alright, Swee-"

"Wait, Mom?"

"Yes?"

Have you ever seen your Soul Lantern? "...Ah, nothing, never mind. I got confused." He pressed a laugh.

"Alright Sweetheart. Call me anytime, Okay? And come see me on the weekend!" He could hear the TV turning on in the background. Maybe she was handling this better than he expected.

 

"Hey, I know you don't drink coffee but I thought you'd like to try it this morning."

 

"HOLY SHIT SARAH!" Jackson jumped with fright, knocking himself and the chair he was sitting on onto the ground. He hadn't even heard the door open. It appeared that he hadn't ever locked it. She looked at the man splayed on the floor and frowned at him. "When did you get so jumpy?"

 

Jackson scowled at young woman who was clearly not putting two and two together after yesterday's conversation. He didn't answer.

 

She leaned down, placing the coffee upright on the floor next to him. "I know how you feel about milk, so I just got it black." She proceeded to invite herself in. She had a grocery bag with a two or three items and a skillet hanging out of the top. She placed the bag altogether on a small table near the bathroom. She had reached somewhere and was examining something.

 

Jackson craned his neck to see. He was still on the floor. She was turning a knob on a single hotplate that was mobile. Oh. That's the stove, I guess. Even for a private college, this was sort of slumming it. She unwrapped something that was golden brown.

 

Jackson smiled for the first time in nearly 24 hours. Potato pancakes, he thought dreamily. His face fell. Couldn't I have gotten a Soul Lantern for someone who cooks for me?

[Cazuki]

Emmett groaned as he walked down the Maths corridor towards his first lecture. Despite his little pep-talk from earlier, the events of yesterday still ran crazy through his head, wreaking havoc on his normally calm mind. Images of red, ghostly light, flashed in his mind and every few seconds he looked down at his chest to make sure he wasn’t glowing again. He remembered how he’d felt at that time as well, if only vaguely.

 

In retrospect, it was odd that Emmett hadn’t noticed something was wrong before that point. Every other time he had beaten Jackson up or verbally abused him, he’d felt relieved, sure, but it was the same kind of relieved someone felt after going a few rounds with a punching-bag in a gym. At that time, and maybe for a while before, he didn’t know, the feeling had been incredibly different. He couldn’t say what that new feeling was, exactly, since he’d never felt or seen anyone else feel that way before. All he knew was that getting close to Jackson was a no-go until he knew more about what he was dealing with, and how to stop it.

 

‘Soul Lantern’…

 

It was a stupid name and, Emmett thought, a stupid concept. If he’d only ever seen it written on a page, he would’ve passed it off as some kind of pseudo-science bull-crap, as real as the ‘red string of fate’ or a ‘true love’s kiss’. Sadly, the phenomenon wasn’t limited to the world of bad romantic fiction or mystic love blogs. It was real. And that was the problem.

 

Emmett, and every other person he knew, had been taught about it in junior-high as a part of sex-ed. Emmett couldn’t remember most of what the teachers had said. However, he knew the basics. For every person alive on Earth, there was a ‘true partner’ or ‘lantern’. When these two met, their chests will glow, one red, the other blue. These pairs are called ‘soulmates’. Apart from that, he didn’t know anything.

 

Maybe Warren knows something?

 

Emmett recollected the image of Warren’s and Rebecca’s chests glowing the day before. It would make sense that Warren would know at least something about it. Emmett shook his head.

 

No, I can't.

 

Emmett had never been interested in romantic love. Sure, he’d had a few flings, a couple of dates and knew a fair amount about sex from his younger teenage years, but nothing had ever stuck. If he started asking about that kind of thing, especially to Warren, Warren would definitely connect the dots and ask too many questions.

 

Emmett sighed again, pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind. There wasn’t any point going ‘round in circles at the moment. First, he just had to get through the day. Regardless, he looked down at his chest again. He remembered something Warren had done yesterday and zipped up his jersey.

 

Just in case.

 

He looked up at the signs along the doors to the various offices, lecture halls and study rooms, until he found one with the code he was looking for. The code was etched into a small brass strip.

SMH5

It didn’t take long to decode.

‘Science and Mathematics building, Lecture Hall 5’.

 

Emmett walked in, looking around the room for a seat. It was his third year, so there weren’t quite as many people as there had been last year, but the room was still crowded, with most of the seats at the back already taken. Emmett stayed quite, groaning internally.

 

Great…

 

Now he’d have to sit closer to the front and everybody knew, the closer you sat to the front, the more Prof. Gale would notice you. The more she noticed you, the more likely you were to get publically humiliated. Not because Gale was strict. She was anything but. However, she did have a disconcerting talent to do and say just the right things to make people uncomfortable.

He walked over to the furthest row of seats that wasn’t full and sat down. Two rows above him, he heard a familiar voice.

 

“You looked bored Mike, better turn that frown upside-down if you don’t want to be first blood this year for Gale.”

 

Emmett shifted in his seat, swivelling around to look at Caroline. He and Caroline had been in the same class for the past two years and over the time had gotten to know each other fairly well. Not as well as Warren and Emmett knew each other, but enough that Emmett felt instantly more himself when he saw her face.

 

“And you would know, ‘Mrs. Pancake’.”

Caroline flushed with anger, glaring.

“That was a stupid name and you know it.”

 

Emmett couldn’t deny that. It had happened around the same time last year. Gale had apparently been running late and had decided to bring breakfast to class with her, which had been some microwave pancakes. Partway through the lecture, she’d asked Carry to solve some equation and sadly had linked her last name ‘Hopkin’ with the restaurant ‘IHOP’. Thus, the name, Mrs Pancake, was born.

 

Emmett smirked lop-sidedly at Caroline.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll keep your tip in mind, Pancake.” He turned away, just in time for a stray pencil to hit him in the back of the head and hear a growled obscenity. He chuckled internally, the worry from earlier completely gone now. Yeah, everything was going to be fine.

 

Just fine.

 

As he thought it, his hand dipped into his pocket, bringing out his smart-phone. Hiding it under the table in front of him, he unlocked it and opened up the browser, typing ‘Soul Lantern’ in the search bar.