Meliora - Extricate - 02

[lady_mab]

Zoné Altair

It’s been five days since I received a text message from someone calling themselves the Program Manager and inviting me to a game called Meliora.

I don't want to sit down and try to figure out what that clue is supposed to mean. I came to this city over a year ago with a purpose, and sure, I might have gotten distracted along the way, but I know that the reason for me being here hasn't changed or moved.

So I don't see why I should have to change or move.

It sounds like a scam anyway. There's no reason for us to not be allowed to leave the city. I'm sure that any number of people could leave if they wanted to. I could go back home, declare my mission a failure, and pick up life back in New Oxford like nothing went wrong.

Only I don't, because I have found something here in Eminence that I didn't back in New Oxford. Life was always a bit stagnant in that city. It clung to the Old World so much that everything here feels so strange and new.

My parents don't care either way. I keep them updated with calls or texts every so often.

They don't ask when I'm going to come home. They don't ask if I've found who I was looking for. Either because they don't want to know or they don't care, but the fact is, they're fine to let me keep doing what I want to do.

Wouldn't consider myself high up on the sibling priority list, anyway.

Of those five days since the message, three of them have involved an elaborate lunch provided by the newest number of our party. Jun, with her bright pink hair and her slow-to-form smile, brings a collection of lacquer boxes and mixes of foods that the rest of us attack with gusto.

It's Tuesday, day five, and Jun is pointing out each of the dishes and describing them to her rapt audience.

I find myself staring at the message again, just like I have every day since getting it.

"Yo, Zoné." Mal takes the opportunity to poke me with a curious finger, while Robbie waves a croquette beneath my nose. "Earth to Zoné."

When I shake myself out of whatever sort of stupor I landed myself in, my four friends are already back to chattering about the food. They consider their job of waking me up done.

Jun, however, watches me curiously. "Is everything alright?"

My gaze flickers down to the food she brought, and I slide the phone shut before dropping it on my bag -- not even stopping to see where it lands. "Everything's good! And speaking of everything being good, look at this food!"

Beat offers me a fork and points to whatever he is currently eating, trying to describe it with a mouth full. Glen, always silent, watches from across the table as he picks at the options before him, but doesn't say anything.

Jun turns away, refraining from commenting. I can see the urge to speak on the tip of her tongue, but she keeps it to herself.

That's fine. I'm not too sure how I would respond anyway.

I try to tuck in with as much gusto as I usually do, but the food sticks to the roof of my mouth and my hand moves at too slow a pace to keep up.

Everyone's attention drifts back to me once more. Glen leans and grips my shoulder. "Hey... You okay? Do you need to go to the nurse or something?"

"I'm fine," I say automatically, but the five faces staring back at me know that I'm not telling the truth. "I don't think I'm feeling too well. Not sleeping all that great."

"I don't want to harsh your lifestyle or anything like that, but you don't even have a real bed," Beat comments from around another mouthful. I don't think he's stopped eating since the moment Jun told them to go for it. "It's like a mattress on the floor or something. If I were you, I'd have back problems up the wazoo."

"Yeah but that hasn't stopped you before." Robbie tries again with the croquette, and I snatch it from his fork for good measure. He lets me have it, watching with a cautious eye until I am forced to eat it.

I know that they're worried, and that they can only really show concern for me by offering me food. That's the one thing I don't back down from, even though I'll wave off any other kind of assistance. Only I don't know what exactly is wrong.

It can't be that message. I read it, I dismissed it as baloney, and I moved on.

Not that I've really moved on. I can't stop thinking about the implications of the message. Bugger the game and all that, but the offer for the game gives me the chance to give a final push for what I came here for in the first place.

"Listen, I'm fine. It's okay. My whole life doesn't revolve around food."

"No, just about ninety-eight percent," Mal mutters from the far end of the table.

Robbie snorts, aims a kick, and misses. "And the other two percent revolve around his stomach."

"Which is to say his whole life revolves around food."

"Yeah, in a roundabout way. I guess you're right."

"Hah hah." I cross my arms back over my chest and settle back into my chair. "Very funny."

Beat finally pauses long enough to level me with one of his Serious Expressions. "Food is not a funny matter. Jun here made enough for all of us, so don't feel bad about eating."

"I don't," I say, because that's not the problem. The problem is that I have no appetite and no way to explain to my friends why.

I've never told them what brought me to Eminence in the first place. They were all born and raised here.

Not even Jun would understand -- who came here to learn how to cook under her uncle. Not that I think she needs it, because her lunches are simply amazing.

If I wanted to leave the city, would I?

A sigh works its way out of my mouth, and it takes a moment to realize that everyone is still staring at me. "What?"

"Jun..." Mal begins, slowly, setting down his fork and leaning across the table to get a better look at me. "I think you broke him."

She jumps, and I can feel the vibration as her chair knocks into mine. "Me?"

Beat reaches out and his arm drapes across her shoulders. It stops the moment my attention shifts to him. I don't mean anything by the look, but he seems to think I do because it hovers in the air just above her. "My future wife has done nothing wrong," he defends as Jun presses her hands to her cheeks.

"Lay off her." Glen reaches for some of the fried veggies but Beat snatches them away from his searching fork.

I need a chance to think. I need to sit down and decide if I want to take this message seriously or not.

Before I can even realize what I'm doing, I've pushed myself to my feet and silence descends on the table once more.

They watch, curious, worried, and guilt wars with confusion in my chest.

"I'm just going to go and... go. Just go and go and stuff." My hand flaps in a vague motion before I snatch up my bag and retreat without another word.

No one calls after me, which is just as well. I don't want to stop. I don't want to explain my actions. I can't.

I'll see them again after classes, and they'll pretend like nothing is wrong. I’ll receive those curious, worried stares for another few days if I can't get my act together, but at least it will give me some time before I have to worry about being confronted about it.

My feet carry me through the empty halls. A proctor glances at me as I pass, but doesn't comment on my presence. The rules tend to lighten up during summer sessions anyway. They don't care that I'm wandering the halls when I should either be in lunch or in class.

I walk and walk until, suddenly, my legs don't feel like moving any further. I lean up against the wall and sink down to the cool tile. My sneakers squeak as I kick out my legs, and the zippers on my backpack protest against the concrete.

It takes a moment before I can breathe, and another moment before I realize that I'm still thinking about the consequences of that message.

My fingers twitch against my thighs, wanting to reach for my phone. I've read the message so many times that I have it memorized by now. Staring at the words won't help me divine their meaning any.

The worst part is I have no one to ask about it. I don't know anyone else who got it, and the last thing I want to do is make everyone worry about me more than they already are. A message from some mysterious Program Manager, promising the truth of a city that we all live in and can't find any sort flaw -- at least, not in the way that he's promising there is.

I pull my legs up my chest and press my forehead to my knees. It shouldn't be this much of a concern, but it is.

Maybe I should call my parents after class and see what they think.

A laugh barely passes my lips at the thought. I wonder how that conversation would go.

Hi yeah, you remember how I came out here to find my wayward asshole brother and all that? Turns out I can't leave but that means neither can he so we're both stuck here but there's this ‘game’ I think will give me answers.

Wow, that would go so well.

"Do whatever you want," is something they will likely say. If I stood before them asking, they would shrug.

A soft footfall reaches my ears, and I lift my head to spot Jun.

She freezes, eyes going wide, as if she didn't want to be caught approaching. But she must read something in my expression that makes up her mind, and she finishes her trip to my side.

Without saying anything, she drops down next to me and holds out a lunch box.

I take it, and open it to see a collection of today's food and a plastic fork waiting for me. My stomach growls at the smell of the food, and for some reason, here in the hall, outside of the prying eyes of the others, I can finally eat. "Thanks," I say, scooping up a forkful of rice.

"You are welcome," she replies. I like listening to her talk -- a slight accent coloring her words, always using complete words instead of contractions. It sounds so proper, the way someone in one of my sister's books might talk.

She pulls out her phone and scrolls through something on it without comment, letting me eat. A small sigh drops out of her, and she rolls her head on her neck. This isn't the first time that we've been alone together, but it is the first time that we've sat together without saying anything and simply having each other as company.

It's nice, and distracting.

The urge to tell her rises up in my stomach. I shove it down with another mouthful of food.

Jun glances at me as I choke on some of the beans, a half laugh winning out over the head tilt of concern. "You do not have to inhale it."

"It's really good."

"I am sure, but you can also eat a pace normal to humans."

I laugh, louder than I intend to. "Hah. Normal humans."

This makes her giggle again. She takes a breath to say something, but the lunch bell beats her to the punch. Its deafening cry screams out through the halls and we both wince.

I hadn't realized that I sat right under one of the bells.

I drop the fork into the box and replace the lid. "I’ll see you after school."

Something resembling shock takes over her expression. "What? Why?"

"So I can give this back to you. And the other boxes, which I'm guessing you left with Beat." He would have volunteered without hesitation. Anything to impress her.

"I can take it now--" she starts, reaching out for the box. She protests as I lift it up over her head, far out of her reach. I tower a good few inches over her, and have long arms to boot.

"I'll eat it during class. Mr. Stavros doesn't care."

"But--”

The students surge out of the cafeteria and catch us in their flow. In the confusion, I dump the box into my backpack and dart off down the hall with a wink and a wave.

I think that I can hear her call after me in protest, but it’s an argument she’s already lost.

As I weave my way through students, I give the message one last consideration. I have a few more days before the deadline for the meeting, and I’ll decide very last minute if I want to go or not.

No use dreading about it. I’ve been in this city long enough to know that, if my brother wanted to be found, I would have cornered him by now. Signing up for this game would not make a difference.

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