FSE

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[WARNING: Although labeled as "clean" this chapter does contain activity between minors some may not find agreeable. It is possible to read most of the chapter and skip the activity, or you may choose not to read the chapter altogether. The event will be vaguely referenced throughout the rest of the story series.]

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Thursday. The last day of school for the winter.

It was hardly anything to look forward to.

Emeral rushed through the empty cafeteria; the bell should have rung five minutes ago. She woke up late. Had fallen to sleep late. Until one in the morning, she had her eyes closed and her mind just churned and churned, repeating the conversation over the phone again and again.

She had exhausted the implications of dad coming. At least, as far as she would dare go. That was the darkest and most scariest corner of the world, and she wouldn't dare step in it. Except that she wanted nothing more than to be there, like she had been there for Lyza back during her family scare.

Just as she thought her brain would let things be, it moved on to the riddle he'd left her. He was glad she went ballistic? Glad she'd yelled and spited, thrown him down, made him bleed? Unless he had a really skewed way of thinking, he should be nothing less than disturbed and evasive.

She stepped through the door with some other kids just as the second bell rang, and a moment later the pledge of allegiance was started. Today was a joke, really; they weren't going to learn anything. It was just a waste of time. Just an unnecessary lockup.

And of course Ritzer didn't skip it.

Emeral took her seat, and the menu was listed over the majestic ceiling-speaker. They moved on to the birthdays, and then wished everyone a happy holidays.

Maybe not the first bit of it...

Ms. Hupp clapped her hands together and smiled as she bobbed in place, dressed in red-and-white; she looked like a scarlet snow-woman. She broke down how the day would unfold, and then it unfolded. They started off by getting little presents--nothing special, just little erasers and ho-ho-ho pencils; the kind of combination that, when you used them, ended up smearing the lead around rather than cleaning it up.

Then they were given Bing-o cards, and for a while they played a few games, wherein she would ask holiday questions and the students had to know the answer in order to put the little red piece of paper on the square. Lyza was lucky enough to get a "Bing-o!", and Emeral probably would have too, if she'd actually played.

Ritzer called one, but of course it was falsified. Unfortunately, Ms. Hupp ran out of coal.

Then, they shuffled on to music class, where they had free reign over the instruments. Emeral felt wary in that kind of situation, and made sure to stay with Lyza at all times. The rabbit eventually went to her recorder and Emeral listened to her play some melodies she had been practicing in flute lessons.

Music class gave Emeral a chance to make eye-contact with Ket, who was actually pretty keen on the keyboard. At first he was just sort of tapping the keys, but it turned out he was figuring out how to play Jingle Bells by ear. He got pretty far when the students were ordered to shuffle back to class.

Instead reading and spelling class, students were herded into the cafeteria. Again, Emeral stayed close to Lyza, and felt the cold eyes of Ritzer watching her as she sat up near the front row on the tile-less floor. They sat in front of the stage, and a puppet show was performed by some guy and his wife and son. It was pretty good; but she'd seen the story of Rudolf so many times that it was just the exact same story--but with puppets! Yeah right...

With that out of the way they were once again ordered back into their classrooms--these last-days were always so much walking. Ms. Hupp then read a quick little story about the other reindeer, a spoof off of the Rudolf tradition, and Emeral just about popped a vessel out of boredom.

Lunch time. The day was two-thirds over, and she was almost in the clear. Lyza seemed overly flattered to be spending so much time with her friend, and Emeral did feel a bit guilty she was using her friend as a sort of shield. It was fun--they both shared the same opinion about the day, just wanted to get out and go home.

"We should hang out!"

"I'd love to Lyz, but...I dunno just not today. Maybe...I think I need a weekend with the family okay?"

There was a piano in the cafeteria, and for a good part of lunch students and teachers alike went up to it as part of an exhibitionist volunteerism. The favorite every year was Hot Cross Buns, but there were a few pretty talented kids. The pizza was actually good too--not the normal rubbery stuff that could be used as tire-repair paste, but actual cheese and pepparoni.

When all were settled down, attention was brought to the stage as the fourth-grade bell concert went underway. There were a dozen kids all dressed in red robes and wearing cotton gloves, each with two bells: one big and one small. It was very interesting, and always well-practiced. Afterward, if you weren't asleep from the soothing tones, you got to witness the grand-finalé, wherein all of the performers rushed up to the front of the stage, ringing their bells in some chaotic form of sound-torture, bobbing their rumps up and down--for on the back of each robe was a letter, and together with the teacher it spelled Happy Holidays--or in this year's case Hpdyy olHpaisa.

From there, it was back to the classroom, where it was just goof-off time for about fifty or so minutes. Then recess came--the part of the day Emeral didn't quite know how to deal with.

Recess would be the most opportunistic time for Ritzer to pester her. Even if she stayed with other kids it would be possible for him to scare them away. What was the point of the teachers being outside if they did such a bad job at monitoring the playground?

Emeral jumped as someone knocked on her desk. She looked up, and it was Ket, still walking as he passed. She didn't quite know what he was doing, but as he walked through the door his hand rolled, as if telling her to follow him. She got out of her chair and looked about, a little paranoid, before going out into the hallway.

There, she spotted Ket walking back toward the cafeteria between all of the kids. She hurried, but made sure she was still a few kids behind, until at last they broke through the crowd.

He turned to make sure she was behind him, and then began walking a little faster, again twitching his hand.

They passed by the front way, and went into the darkened library. Inside, several classes of kinders or firsts were watching a presentation by an artist. The two intruders were ignored as they walked to the back of the bookshelves, the option of being in the library during recess presumably still in effect.

Ket took a seat in one of the beanbags, and Emeral sat beside him on another. They were quiet for a moment in the darkness, their only light-source a dimly-glowing lamp on the table behind them.

"You wanted me to follow you... right?"

He nodded. "And, you were right," he said, almost with a hint of defeat, "and I'm an idiot for not noticing it before."

"Not noticing...?"

"Ritzer," was all he said in reply. "I've been watching him more carefully. He glanced at you twenty times during the puppet show."

"You...actually counted?"

His only response was a slight shift in his eyes.

"I thought I told you not to worry about it!" She hissed lowly.

"Yeah, well," he picked up a book, "I decided not to listen."

She sighed, "Ket, please. You're dealing with your own problems."

"Not right now I'm not." He leafed through a few pages, "Besides, would you rather be outside right now? Even if you were in a group or with Lyza like you have been all day, Ritzer would probably scare them away. And it's not like you can rely on the teachers, they may as well not even be out there."

Exactly what she had thought.

"...Appreciate it," she finally replied.

"You'll be fine after recess is over. Until then." he handed her the book.

"You want me to read?" She whisper-exclaimed.

He shrugged. "It helps me. Could at least try."

She could. With a little smile she opened the book. It was really meant for second-graders. It had lots of pictures and colors and some pop-ups. The text was in a neat, well-ordered block in big letters. That was perfect, for the letters were especially wiggly in the dim light. So for the next several minutes she followed a frog as he dutifully tried to find a home to raise his family. All the while, the kids that were watching the presentation ooh-aww'd and laughed, the noise buffered by the bookcases.

After some time, she shut the book, and sighed.

"What's the matter?"

She glanced back at him. He was being very alert today. "Nothin'," she replied, "I just..." She wiggled a bit, sitting up more in her beanbag "I'm a little cold."

"Well yeah, who wears a skirt in winter?"

She huffed. "I was gonna do laundry yesterday but...I didn't."

He rolled his eyes, "Who's fault is that?"

She smiled meekly at his joke. Down-playing the drama like that did make it feel better.

"Now what?" He asked, as she got up off the beanbag.

"I have to go potty," she replied.

He closed his book. "I'll walk with you."

"Nah," she pressed on his nose to push him back down onto his beanbag, "I'll be fine."

He listened as she disappeared, her footsteps plodding away on the carpet. The footfalls stuttered for a few seconds...

She walked into the light of the entrance-way to the school, and on into the fifth-grade hallway. She felt so much more relieved that Ket had been so vigilant all day. Of course, how could he not be, with what all she'd said? At least he wasn't making her feel guilty about it--she was doing enough of that on her own.

At the door to the girl's restroom, she stopped. It was really quiet; no one was in the hall. The kids in the library laughed very distantly. She listened; thought she'd heard a noise. She shook her head--she was just paranoid, it was probably Ket, deciding not to listen again.

She entered, and listened to the door hinges click in the echoing chamber. The girl's restroom was always so nice and clean...well, usually. It was at least cleaner than the boy's, from what she so fondly remembered back in August. She went to the mirror, glancing at herself. She was tired and sleepy, just by the look under her puffy, glazed eyes.

She turned on the warm water and let it run for a moment to heat up, and then ran her hands underneath the soothing warmth, and brought it up to her face. Behind her, the door squeaked open. "Occupied," she muttered. But there were a couple footsteps. She turned, wringing her hands, "I said occu--"

The door quietly shut, and Emeral emitted a strained gasp of air as her throat was pressured, her head pinned against the wall. She blinked, tried to move her hands; they were quickly restrained.

"Ah-ah-ah..." Ritzer's voice was eerily calm. "No Judo's this time."

"He--!" She tried to scream, but once again his arm pressed against her throat, muting her; and his body pressed against hers, immobilizing her. She couldn't really see exactly how she was pinned, but she could feel. His shoulder was pressed against her chest, lifting and holding her against the wall. Her feet were off the ground. His left arm was bent up so that it crossed her throat, making it hard for her to speak, much less shout.

She tried her left hand again, tried to smack him. He caught it, and squeezed, his claws uncomfortably involved; she winced, her fist uncurled as she whimpered. Her body lowered.

"Nothin' dumb," he said, his left hand taking over where his arm had been; he squeezed her adam's apple gently with his thumb, and made sure she just barely felt the claw.

Her head went dizzy at the pressure.

"If you do somethin' stupid, y'might accident'ly get 'urt."

She stared into his eyes, fear rendered her powerless. It was so sudden, so fierce, and his eyes were so...so...

He smiled. "Was worried. Did'n see ya on the playground," he said with the most wretched calmness. His lips came close to her ear, the peach-fuzz of his mane tickling against her cheek. "S'almos' azif yer avoidin' me. Bu' nah, yer not. Af'er all, yer wearin' the skirt I like."

She tried to speak, but all that managed was a sputter and a bit of drool.

"Chris'mas's come'n," His right hand, until now forgotten, touched the back of her knee. "I think I been a good boy," he began stroking upward, his hand creeping higher and higher up the back of her thigh, "I wanna unwrap my present early..."

She felt his fingers grip the waistband of her underwear. She tried to struggle, tried to kick or punch; but he pressed more upon her kneck, blocked her breath, caused fear to ripple through her and quiet her resistance. His claws prodded her tender neck, one of them scraping her.

"Or struggle," he said, giving a long lick across her cheek as he pulled her underwear down to her knees, "I like ya either way."

She feebly pushed against his right hand with her left, gripping his wrist as he forced his way between her thighs. She tried to scream again, tried to yell, but all that came out was a little rasp of air, and the hand tightened.

His fingers rubbed and teased, his thumb massaging the space below her navel as his pointer and middle explored her skin.

Her breath quickened as he applied pressure, fear and disgust coursing through her. She couldn't bear to see that smile on his face. Couldn't even fathom being in this situation. She closed her eyes; hoped she would just wake up wake up!

"I didn't know girls were so...warm," the lion purred.

Just as she felt his fingers try to advance further, the door to the bathroom opened without so much as a rush of air, and Ritzer turned his head in shock; caught.

From her place, pinned on the wall, Emeral could see Ket standing in the threshold, a look of passing terror on his face. But then, he moved quickly, and Ritzer grunted as Ket's shin slammed firmly into his gut. Emeral felt the lion's hand tear away, and she gasped and wheezed, gulping air like water, clasping her neck tenderly with both hands as she collapsed onto her knees.

Ritzer stumbled, then charged at Ket; the door, still open, shut as they passed through it, and Emeral saw Ket's knee shoot right up to the spot where he'd kicked before. Then the door shut behind them, and she was left alone.

She breathed shallowly now, her hands at her side, sitting down against the wall. She could feel the uncomfortable cold against her buttocks, but was too shaken to move. A moment passed--but for all her senses it could have been days. In that time, she realized the sink was still hissing water.

And then the door opened, slowly, and she was overcome with the worst dread imaginable; like she was about to witness the most hellish thing come through. But a weight sloughed off as Ket's soft gaze met hers. He rushed in, letting the door shut behind.

"Tell me you're all right," he said as he knelt down beside her on one knee.

She felt a draft against her groin, and then realized she was terribly exposed. Quickly she changed position, rolling over and pulling the frills of her skirt down over her privates. She clutched her underwear, trying to pull it up with one hand. She stared back up to Ket.

His gaze was unwavering. "Tell me you're all right." He pleaded again.

"Get out," She replied, her cheeks red. "Get out!"

He swallowed. His Adam's-apple visibly bobbing. A look of something came upon his face, but it was too much to interpret. Without a sound he rose, and quietly left the restroom.

* * *

Emeral went back into the classroom after the bell had rung, ending recess. It was like nothing had happened. Ritzer didn't even look at her now--thankfully. Ket, on the other hand, stared at her immediately as she entered, even in the midst of other kids. She took her seat, and feigned normalcy.

Just put it away. Lock it up in a little box, hide the key and don't think about it now. It'll go away with the last bell, and then worry about Ket and his situation. Then, when that was over, maybe... maybe open it back up--given enough courage. But right now, no. Right now, it didn't happen. She had gone to the restroom, peed, washed her hands, and left.

Ms. Hupp passed out a packet of activities for all the students to do as busy work for the rest of the day, or else they could do as they wanted with classroom games. Emeral set to work right away, glad that there were so many things to do! Crosswords, mad-libs, word-searches, connect-the-dots, anagrams--her favorite!--and then after each activity was done, some of the results could be plugged in on the very last page to spell Happy Holidays! Best. Stuff. Ever!

She smiled, contented with its completion. Some other kids were still working on theirs though; but she'd managed to go up to ten minutes to the bell. Santa Claus appeared at the classroom door, but everyone knew right away it was one of the coaches. Following him was the third-grade marching-band: an endless train of jingle-bells, triangles, tambourines and cymbols. Some kids went to the door to see them.

The announcements started--almost time. Emeral went to her backpack, and lined up at the front of the door. There was an uproar, drowning the announcements and muffling the bell as it rang over the loudspeakers. Emeral took off running, barreling down the hallway with the other kids, eager to get home--but not for the same reasons as the others.

She ran without intention to stop. She ran, and didn't look back. Despite the cold and slippery snow, she ran and ran, only realizing she had abandoned Ket when she finally slowed down, a few minutes away from her home. She heaved winter-breaths of steam and cold as she leaned against the fence of her cul-de-sac. Her legs trembled; she could feel the lactic acid seeping out of her calves.

"Emeral!" The voice was breathless, hoarse and heavy.

She looked back; it was Ket, sprinting. If he kept this up there'd be another band-aid on his other cheek. She turned to face him as he ran toward her.

She felt her weight pushed back as he collided into her with a huff, ensnaring her into a space more comforting than between her parents on the most frightening night of her life. Her body tipped backward from his momentum, almost to the point of losing balance, until he pulled her back again.

He panted heavily, and he was shaking as he held her closely. Emeral felt warm, pizza-flavored breath on her forehead. She felt his heavily beating heart against her cheek. She had never felt it like that; never heard the rush of blood in his arteries, muting out the rest of the world. Even after his breathing became normal, his heart still kept its quick pace.

"Ket," she said, "First rule."

"I can't relax," he growled, "Not after--"

"I said first rule," she pushed away, stepping back. "Before you start...I don't even want to talk about it."

His face seemed a little hurt. "But Emeral I can't just--"

She shushed him. "I don't want to talk about it," she said again, with the decisiveness that only a girl could wield.

"Then what am I supposed to do?" He shouted angrily, bearing his claws. It hurt, when yesterday she chastised him for doing nothing--now he wanted to do everything more than anything and she wouldn't allow him the chance. "Tell me!" His hands balled into trembling fists, raised up between them like guards.

She placed her hands upon them, lowering them down. "You're not going to worry about it. I'll be fine; please... trust me. I want you to worry about your own problems, I really, really do." She hugged him. It was nothing compared to his, at least she thought so. "I want you to go home--you need to be with your mom."

He sighed, anger and frustration a hard enemy to be rid of. "If that's...what you really want," he replied. "I'll call you. As soon as possible, okay?" He spoke still with anger, but it was clear it wasn't directed at her.

"I'll be waiting for it." She said with the sweetest voice, but it was a very forced sweetness, and looked up at him with a smile, but it was a very forced smile. The gate began to open, and she stepped through, then pushed the button to make it close faster.

They stood, divided by the bars of iron. It didn't stop them from embracing again. But it was short-lived--he had to get home. She broke it, and turned around, one eye still holding him.

"Good luck, Arkethius."

"Wait," he emplored, holding on to one of the bars, stretching his hand through. Their eyes met for a moment, and then he looked down and back up, as if hesitating for a moment and then dropping the doubt. "Cystic fibrosis."

The Latin hit her ears like a riddle. She blinked, trying to figure it out but it was useless. Then she started to think why he said it--and as reason became known a devilish smile widened more and more across her face.

The bar hummed as his hand hit it while he took off.