Unveiled: The Chronicles of Luxor Everstone

by Jacklyn Daher

  Luxor gulped, and her cheeks flamed. She had zoned out from the moment she had sat down. History, she thought to herself, had to be about the past.

  Make something up.

  Hunter whispered in her ear and made it a challenge to conjure up an excuse. Or even a thought for that matter. Her mind had gone into blank mode. In her gut, she realised an apology and admission was needed for her lack of concentration. Lately apologising had become all too common, but it wasn't an option, it would be a disastrous start to her schooling.

  “Well?" Ms. Suarez barked and flattened her palms flat on the desk with a thud.

  Hunter chuckled. He hunched his shoulders and cocked his head to the side and sketched furiously, his eyebrows drawn deep in concentration.

  Luxor placed her sweaty hands between her thighs to minimise the shaking and hoped he would help her out, after all he was the culprit for distracting her. But to be honest, if she heard nothing it was doubtful Hunter had either. This was the last thing she needed, not only had she irritated the teacher, but the class was deeply engrossed in the interrogation and probably thought they got lucky. The more spent time wasted, the less History everybody would have to endure.

  The girl in front whipped around. “Oh, for goodness sake hurry up.”

  Hunter poked Luxor in her ribs with the end of the pen, and slid a piece of paper over to her side of the table. A tree was drawn with little stick figures underneath labelled with "ma," "da," and "kid" underneath in an almost unrecognisable scribble.

  What the hell is this?

  Luxor ignored him and took a deep breath in prepared to confess. "Well..." She elongated the word. Hunter nudged her again, but this time with his elbow, as he began to circle the images. "Ouch."

  What was this guy's problem? I'm definitely going to bruise now.

  “A tree?" Luxor whispered her forehead creased in confusion.

  “Family tree to be precise," Ms. Suarez replied with relief and circled the room placing worksheets on each table. Once she arrived at Luxor's table Ms. Suarez paused as if to make a point that Luxor had no choice but to listen. "The subject of genealogy or family trees is the most interesting and fascinating aspect of life because it details our own history." She walked away to the front of the class barely fitting through the aisles. “After all who cares about what happened in the olden days, as many of you all would say,” she said sarcastically.

  Luxor internally groaned. This was bad. Very bad.

  With no need to look over, Hunter fixated his gaze on her and warm prickles coursed through her again. He was responsible for distracting her, and Luxor didn't know why he would do it.

  “You start at the bottom." Hunter pointed to the rectangle at the bottom of the paper. “And then work your way up to your parents, grandparents, etcetera."

  “I know how a family tree works," Luxor snipped and wrote her name at the top of the page. At least it was something.

  “Feisty, I like." He chuckled.

  “Idiotic, I don’t,” she retorted.

  A hole had been dug, wide and deep, and Luxor was firmly stuck in it, without a clue how to escape. It hit too close to home, to the one thing she never wanted to think about.

  “Do you need help?"

  “I'm fine," Luxor said flippantly. "Besides, I see you're as clueless as me." She cringed at her admission.

  Hunter's face was impassive, his paper as blank as hers. "Or maybe I think families are a crock of shit."

  Chills ran down Luxor's spine at his observation. Dealing with families, or the lack of them, was something she would always have to deal with. She wondered if his was as screwed up as hers but she doubted it.

  Luxor blew a few stray hairs that had escaped from her ponytail, out from her eyes, and wiped her brow with the sleeve of her jumper. She tried her best to look like she was doing work.

  Time ticked by, measuring every moment the hands moved, but it wasn't quick enough. At least that one horrible word; family, had finally shut Hunter up.

  “You're hot," he leaned over and whispered.

  “Excuse me?" Luxor wasn't sure if it was an observation or a compliment.

  “You look hot," he repeated, "as if you're dying of thirst."

  “I'm not," she lied, and turned her head to quickly lick her chapped lips.

  Hunter slid an unopened bottle of water across to her. “Take it. I promise I don't have germs."

  The bell rang and saved her from having to answer. Gathering her belongings in one big pile, Luxor shoved her notebooks and pens in her backpack, the couple of items that had fallen out she didn’t bother to pick them up. She dashed for the door and knocked a few people in the process who cursed.

  Lunch would be a new experience for Luxor. Friends had always surrounded her, ones she had known since she was a young child, but now it was a different story. It was a strange being the loner, and the inadequacy didn't sit well. Unlike Verity, who preyed on the weak to make herself feel better, Luxor didn't humiliate or tease others, but she didn't pay much attention to them either, which was just as bad. Karma was a bitch.

  She expected to see the cliques straight away, the cheerleaders and jocks, nerds, the outsiders, but instead the yard was devoid of anybody around.

  Where was everybody?

  "Ready for the tour?" Ayla snuck up behind her with a bounce in her step.

  Luxor jumped and squealed, holding a hand on her heart. "Sure." She would have preferred to grab some lunch first but needing to know where everything else was more important.

  Ayla pulled out a strap of blueberry liquorice from her beige shoulder bag, broke off a piece and wriggled it in front of her. "Want some?"

  Luxor happily accepted. “Thanks."

  The sweet liquorice melted in her mouth, and instantly she was transported back in time, to when she secretly lived on them. Meredith didn't care what Luxor ate, just as long as it wasn’t junk, because she was too self-absorbed in her own life to provide proper food but at the same time refused to have a fat daughter. All Luxor wanted was to sit down with her parents and eat a home-cooked meal, even if it was a bowl piled high with brussels sprouts.

  Ayla walked ahead towards the back of the school and returned back to the path which lead back to the gymnasium. "Do you like sports?"

  "No. I'm totally un-co. I don't know how I'll survive Physical Education."

  Luxor hated lying. She excelled at quite a few sports both in and out of school with track being her favourite. In her school transfer report which was sent over, it was advised she avoid it at all costs to prevent another "accident." It was strange the school was making her still do the subject. Maybe Principal Wright didn't understand the severity of the circumstance. Or he didn't care. Either way, this wouldn't end well.

  "Pretty obvious. You bolted from there like it was on fire."

  Luxor snorted and shoved more liquorice in her mouth. If only Ayla knew. In her case, fire and gymnasiums went hand in hand with each other.

  “Okay, sports out. What about church?”

  Before Luxor could answer, she was tugged along by the arm to the far left of the blocks. Up a gravel path, they travelled towards a church with a rock façade almost hidden by a cluster of trees. Although archaic, it had a charm attached to it with the sunshine beaming of its multi-coloured stained-glass windows.

  "Isn't it beautiful?" Ayla beamed, her sky-blue eyes sparkling. She prodded Luxor forward with the tips of her fingertips.

  An eruption of fire ignited within the pit of Luxor’s stomach the moment she stepped on to the consecrated ground. And they definitely weren't hunger pains. Crouching over, she hobbled away from the church, not wanting to make her pain obvious. She threaded her fingers through her hair and pressed the burning sensation at the crown of her head, massaging it for a few seconds.

  "I'm not religious. At all," she blurted out, feeling evil for saying it.

  Ayla gave a small nod and a wan smile. It was obvious she was a devout believer. Her expression and eagernes
s were proof. If she was offended by Luxor's revelation, she covered it well.

  It was only when she had gotten off the soil that the pain decreased. The further away from the church Luxor was, the better she felt.

  In the distance four, white poles were erected on opposite sides of the field. The football field had luscious green grass and a track field surrounding the entire space. To the side, there was a long jump pit, and bleachers surrounding half the field. She wasn't able to absorb the beauty of the ground when she had been before.

  Luxor walked up the aluminium steps of the bleachers and sat down. A group of girls and guys smoked beside them and when Ayla turned up her nose at the smell, they sneered and moved away.

  "For a non-sporty person, you seem entranced," Ayla observed and plopped down beside her.

  "I love to watch, there's so much energy coming off the field," she sighed as guys competed against each other in hurdles. She missed the anticipation of the whistle, the mindset she had to be in, and the adrenaline. "Do many people hang out here?"

  "Only the athletes and cheerleaders, who to be honest only serve as their handbags in my opinion. Oh, and the outcasts." Ayla pulled out a small emery board from her purse, and filed her nails one at a time.

  The atmosphere was peaceful and unlike the office or classroom; it wasn't claustrophobic. If Luxor was labelled an outcast for spending her time here, it wouldn't be such a bad thing.

  "What group are you in?" Luxor asked. For the first time she realised instead of showing her around, Ayla could have been spending time with her friends.

  "None really. You could say I'm in a special group." A small smile crossed Ayla's face.

  “Yep, I know all about that.”

  “In that case, welcome to my group.” Ayla jumped from her seat and skipped down to the bottom of the bleachers.

  “That wasn’t what I meant,” Luxor called out, following her down. She had to fix this mistake before it grew.

  “Too bad, no take backs, it is set in stone,” she said with a stern expression. "How was History?"

  "Boring and weird, I got told off for being a minute late."

  Luxor filled her in all about Ms. Suarez and everything that happened in class as they crossed the yard. When it came to Hunter and how arrogant he was, she kept that to herself. The last thing she needed was for her to inform Principal Wright she already was having trouble. Luxor still didn't know what Ayla's role was.

  Was her job as a guide over? Or did she have to report any problems new students had settling in?

  Ayla laughed. "She's a stickler for punctuality. If you were any later, she would have locked you out, but not before sending you to detention. You would still have to submit the work though. With no help!"

  "That’s all I need, a hard ass teacher." She frowned. It was bad enough she wasn’t a straight A student as it was.

  "She's harmless. I like history. It's fascinating how the past creates the future," Ayla chirped with an overabundance of enthusiasm.

  Luxor screwed up her face, she had enough history for the day. "You sound just like her. If you find it so fascinating why aren't you in that class, maybe it would suck less?"

  "I'm a history buff, there wouldn't be anything to teach me." Ayla stopped mid-step and stiffened up, her bright smile disappearing.

  "Hello, Luxor."

  Hunter’s husky tone sent a searing sensation throughout her body. Her stomach fluttered as if an explosion of butterflies had been let loose. Out in the sunshine, he was more gorgeous than she initially thought. If that was even possible. His eyes bore into hers, almost translucent like honey, which swirled and changed, with every move he made.

  Look away. Don't stare. Look away. Don't stare.

  "You're hard to track down. You left these behind in your marathon bolt for the door." He passed over her class schedule and water bottle.

  Again, she rejected the water bottle. Who knows he probably spiked it or something, she thought.

  "Thanks." Luxor avoided contact with him, folding the paper and slipping it into her back pocket.

  Ayla tugged on Luxor's sleeve. For a moment, she had forgotten she was with her.

  “Did you want to return back with me? I forgot my ummm, Spirituality book in the locker and I need it for home. Then I can show you the main privilege of this school," she said with an urgency.

  "You could always borrow my copy of the Bible, it's a special edition," he said all too helpful. "I'm Hunter, by the way, Luxor's partner in History class." He thrust out his hand.

  Ayla turned a ghastly shade of white. She rejected his hand, and Hunter let it drop and tucked it in his pocket.

  Luxor viewed the strange interaction between them, both expressions opposite to each other. It was joy versus a fear like expression.

  Why did Hunter deliberately go out of his way to antagonise strangers? And since when were they partners? For the next class, I would have to make sure I arrive early enough and took a seat next to anybody else to avoid his company.

  "Let's go." Ayla grabbed a hold of Luxor’s wrist, which began to annoy her. She shrugged her off and let her get a head start.

  "Sure." Luxor shrugged her off and let her get a head start. Anything that was a privilege was a good thing, and so was moving away from Hunter. But he intrigued and made her feel wonderful sensations which was equally annoying. “Thanks."

  He arched his eyebrows, not even containing his surprise. "For what?"

  "Helping in class," Luxor replied, although what she wanted to add was, "even though you distracted me."

  "Anytime." He shot her a sly grin, turned away, and shoved his hands into his jeans. "I'll take that as an I. O. U."

  Luxor rolled her eyes. What jerk. The only thing he would receive from me would be a swift kick in the ass.

  Luxor followed Ayla who was already a fair distance ahead, her dress billowing in the wind as a faint baby pink light emitted from her. As much as she wanted to, Luxor didn't look back for Hunter, she couldn't meet those eyes, or that smirk again. But a strong electric current surged through her, and she knew his eyes were fixated on her.

  "Wait, wait, what are you doing?"

  The black, ironed gates of the exterior to the school were wide-open, students floated about on the cusp, and a few leisurely lingered out of the school grounds.

  "Going to lunch," Ayla said nonchalantly, as if it was normal to leave the school grounds at any time. She squeezed through some students huddled in groups.

  "Are you trying to get suspended or expelled?" Luxor yelped and followed. As appealing as it was to venture out there was no way she could leave.

  Ayla giggled and continued on until she left the school grounds. "Remember, I told you about privileges? Follow me and I'll show you."

  Luxor followed like a puppy against her better judgement, down the broad tree-lined streets which lead to Main Street. It was only a five-minute walk, but in that time, she managed to extract enough information, and assurance that leaving the school was above board.

  "And so you see, the school doesn't like to impose too many restrictions on their students. Freedom is a way to show they trust us to make our own decisions about right and wrong," Ayla explained.

  Luxor found the whole concept refreshing but bizarre as she was used to the strict regime on all areas of her education. So far, the school and Brighton Falls in general, had shown normal wasn't part of the town’s motto.

  "Here we are," Ayla announced and widened her arms.

  Across from the Village Square, a tavern cornered the street with a bright yellow sign above reading "The Hive."

  As soon as Luxor entered, the reason the courtyard was empty became apparent. Nearly the entire whole school was inside. The buzzing of activity was profound as if the place lent its name on purpose. It had a homey atmosphere, dimly lit despite the glaring sunshine outside, with wooden tables and chairs sets alongside the windows and centre of the tavern. Directly in front, black and red swivel chairs were placed behind a s
leek counter. It was a mash-up of country and contemporary as if the owners couldn't decide what design they wanted.

  Tucked away in the corner a group of boisterous boys enjoyed a game of pool, while girls relaxed in the lounge with their friends and tried to gain the boys' attention.

  Ayla pointed straight ahead to a booth where a familiar girl with a girl with violet, shoulder length hair, waved her hands wildly in the air as if she was drowning.

  Oh, great.

  "About time you turned up, I thought you'd forgotten about me." The girl blasted Ayla.

  "Sorry Evie, I was held up. Besides, why weren't you at assembly?"

  "Parental domestics, it never ends," Evie sighed with a wave of her hands. "Never ends."

  Ayla tutted, and stepped aside. “Anyway, this is Luxor." She quickly made introductions and ignored Evie's whining.

  Evie eyed Luxor suspiciously, her deeply kohl lined brown eyes turned to slits. “So, you're the reason she’s late."

  “Evie, be nice. She’s new.”

  "I know, we’re in History together. A girl from Hampton Cove turns up late to class, doesn’t listen, has a hottie giving her his undivided attention already and whips me on the way out. Did I miss anything?”

  Luxor had only slipped into the booth but now regretted the decision. How on Earth did she get roped into this? "I didn't..." she stammered with panic in her eyes and glanced over at Ayla.

  "Evie, please. I'll be right back." She tapped her on the shoulder and walked off.

  “If I offended you, I’m so-”

  Evie cocked her head back and gave a hearty chuckle. "Relax Snow, I'm messing with ya. Let's order, I'm starving."

  “Snow?” Luxor said, peering over her shoulder. Ayla was at the counter, in deep conversation with an elderly woman with grey hair. She wished she’d hurry up, dealing with a crazed loon wasn't on her list of things she wanted to deal with today.

  “Yeah, your hair. Is that natural?”

  Ayla returned with a grave expression. "Hey, I have to go, you don't mind, do you?"

  Who was she asking? And why did she bother? It was simply a question people asked to be polite, but they don't really care about the answer.