Chapter 58: One More Cart

"My name is Eve. You?"

"I figured you wouldn’t remember my name. Who does, right?"

Her lower lip trembled as Milo leaned close enough to be heard amid the classroom’s roar.

"I’m Milo. Listen, I’m not sure if you heard. The instructor needs help getting the omens ready for the field exams."

Eve swept the green hair away from her ear.

After angling a little more to the left so he wouldn’t scoff straight into her, he raised his voice.

"Want to get away?"

"Away? Where...?"

Explaining the logistics of transporting omens in this classroom would be an endless back-and-forth between his mouth and her ear.

His reputation wouldn’t benefit from a boy bending over a frightened girl and asking her to get away with him.

Maybe softening his predatory gaze should have been his first move.

Milo straightened and showed her the keys.

"Somewhere quieter. Henry needs two people to move the omens."

"Did he ask for me?"

"I suggested you. I’m not a big fan of noise myself." He tipped his chin at the classroom. "You wish they’d calm down? They won’t. At least not on their own."

The girl wound the next corner of the page around her finger.

"I know a thing or two about the exams," he went on. "Help me get these ready, and I’ll tell you on the way. Henry gets his errand done, we get a little credit for helping, and you won’t have to shout your questions at him."

"But why me?"

"You are the only one keeping it under one hundred decibels."

At the desk, Henry’s pencil stopped each time somebody called his name. The instructor had managed to sketch the route on a page, which he held up when Eve looked his way.

A nod followed, and he beckoned them close.

"I’ll go with you," she said at last.

"Perfect."

While Eve gathered her belongings, Milo slipped Miss Cox’s book into his backpack and collected Henry’s directions.

The closing door reduced the classroom to a muffled quarrel, and Eve’s shoes became distinct on the tiles.

...Clink! ...Clink!

He tossed the keyring up before catching it in his palm and repeating the process.

...Clink! ...Clink!

Perhaps the relentless sound would distract the girl from his imperceptible footsteps.

"So what are we doing again? I’m sorry, I just wanted to get out of—"

"Omens. We’re moving omens."

"Almonds? But I’m allergic. I can’t—"

"What? Omens. Not almonds—omens. Nobody’s eating anything."

At least not you.

"Oh, omens. Sorry. I thought you said... never mind."

Behind him, Eve lowered her head.

A conversation might distract her better than the keys.

"Green hair." He slowed to match her pace. "What brought that on? You don’t seem like the type."

"What does my hair have to do with the exam?" ℴℴ𝘮

"Nothing. I was curious."

"You said you had tips."

"I do. We’re allowed to discuss other things on the way."

"Oh," she said after a few strides. "I thought everything you were saying was about the exams."

At times like these, Milo wondered whether he or the people he tried chatting with were the problem.

...Clink! ...Clink!

Henry’s page led them to the far end of the ground floor, where janitors’ lockers and storage rooms lined the corridor.

Through a cloudy door pane, amber glistened in rows.

The key turned without a fight. Beyond the threshold, omens crowded the trays like cookies laid out to cool.

Dozens of rewards for crossing a doorway that hadn’t even tried to injure him. If only all doorways in life were like this...

A trail of saliva beginning to leak from the corner of his mouth shoved him back into reality.

Quickly wiping it with the back of his hand, he strode over to the first tray cart and gripped the handle.

"Well?"

"Thank you. I couldn’t hear myself think in there."

An eyebrow he’d raised, betting it’d unfreeze the girl and get her to do the job, fell straight down at the unexpected response.

Eve took the front rail and coaxed a wandering wheel straight while he worked the cart out of the doorway. They left it at the pickup point Henry had marked and returned for the second.

As she had started to round the corners without waiting for his directions—

"Like I was saying," Milo called, "these are for the Survey and Field exams."

"So you know how they’ll work?"

"I know Mr. Thwaite came up with this on the spot. That’s why we’re wheeling his exam instead of studying for it."

That got a giggle out of her.

"He said we’d be placed where we’re strongest. Where do you suppose the weakest student is strongest?"

The giggle didn’t last.

For a few paces, the rattle of the cart’s swiveling wheels filled the air.

Eve’s lower lip began to tremble again. To try and hide it, she shook her head and let strands of green spill down her face.

"Up front," he continued. "That’s where they put those people."

"But we’re Studies? ...We haven’t learned to do that."

"It’s strategy. You use even the weakest. Unfortunately, they don’t last long."

The girl twisted in the direction of the lessons. When she turned back, her teeth were pressing down on the lip.

"He said we’d be placed where we’re strongest. You have to think about what that means." Milo kept the cart moving. "Strength in numbers, for instance. You need to put a lot of effort into studying if you don’t want to end up at the front as a..."

The tremble spread to her hands.

"Meatshield."

She froze and almost got run over by the cart.

"Eve? Are you okay?"

"Yes. I just... eighty percent was good. They said that was good. What will it be now?"

"Unsure. Eighty was good when all they wanted was the paper."

Once the girl regained her balance, he went on wheeling.

"Rosaline’s probably got everyone settled by now," he said. "We’ve been gone quite a while."

"You think it’s quiet?"

"Yeah. We’re dragging those omens from point A to point B, and everyone else is in a time scramble for the best scores possible. I’m starting to think we might get left behind. But nah. We’ll be fine, right? We’ll catch up—"

The cart became heavier.

Eve had withdrawn her hands and stepped aside.

"What’s wrong?" Milo asked, giving it a last tug before pausing. "We’ve got one more cart to move."

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⋆˚࿔ Coming right up: "Clarity (Part 1)" ... ⤵︎ [!]