NOTE: With all the craziness in the world, tune in tonight to enjoy kaelking12 comedic & feelzy read of this chapter!

https://youtu.be/rm7HG1m1oss

CHAPTER 25

Elias

Dear MiraclesandPhenomenonsExplained.com,

I tried calling your emergency hotline last night, but some phone jockey named 'Starfire' said the line was busy and that I'd have to call back tomorrow. Well, guess what? It's tomorrow, and I can't call back for two reasons:

1) I don't pay my phone bills, so my dad's probably gonna kill me for last night's long distance charges.

and

2) My brother's driving me to school right now, and he'll 100% judge me if he finds out I'm doing this. So please, do me a favor and reply to this email ASAP. And I'm not just saying that. I seriously need your help in the next fifteen minutes or else I'm done for.

Long story short: I'm pretty sure I'm cursed.

I stayed up all night Googling the signs, and I scored a 10/10 on the doomed scale so you've gotta help me out.

I don't now how things ended up going this wrong this fast, but basically there's this girl, and every time she shows up, terrible things happen to me.

Like yesterday, I was walking home minding my own business then BAM! She shows up, and the whole world freaking ends. I got clocked in the face by an asteroid of a softball, all of the other girls I'm fu—friendly with suddenly stopped picking up my calls (which NEVER happens), and I got zero hours of sleep.

Why? Because she haunts my dreams that's why.

You try getting some shut eye when your mind's hell bent on fantasizing itself into pulling an all-nighter.

I tried everything to stop thinking about her, and when I say everything, I mean everything.

Do you know how hard it is to watch porn when your mind keeps drifting back to a girl wearing baggy clothes?

I streamed like fourteen different videos last night, and I honestly can't tell you what happened in any of them because all I could think about was Little Miss Softball field.

You think that's bad? Her reign of terror doesn't stop there.

For some reason, whenever I think about her, I can't—you know—do the thing guys do at 3:00 am that usually solves all girl-related problems.

I couldn't even get the "little" guy to stand at attention, and I'm pretty sure that I was all good in the downstairs department before she showed up.

Don't get me wrong.

This chick's totally beautiful, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little shaken by her.

But that's probably where her sorcery comes into play.

A little while after I first met her, I thought she was the best thing since my mom's paella. And that's saying a lot, okay. Pre-this-particular-chica, nothing came between me and Mama's paella. But, then, she ruined my life.

On a single Friday, I lost my best friend, got super drunk, and got taken advantage of by a succubus man-eater of a woman (not in that order btw).

Does this sound like a curse scenario to you yet? Cause it does to me.

And now, there's a pretty solid chance that the girl I'm talking about (not the succubus) might go to my school.

So please tell me what I can do to protect myself in the next fifteen minutes.

I'm running out of time.

And, no, I don't do charms, crystals, or any of that crap, so don't even bother emailing me back with any weird Satanic attachments or whatever.

I need a real solution before she rains down another Armageddon-level asteroid on my social life.

So, Starfire & friends, if you're listening, send help.

-Elias

***

You have (1) Unread Message from [email protected]:

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Emergency Curse Breaking help needed (I called last night) plz respond to my email ASAP***

Dear Elias,

You're not cursed.

You like the girl.

Grow a pair.

Yours,

-Starfire

***

"So you're still on for tonight, right? Elias?"

I'm not too sure how long Tanner's been talking, but the fact that the car's stopped, he's red in the face, and looks about seconds away from reaching across the car and popping me probably means he's been lecturing for a while now. My bad. 

I'd blame my thirty-second attention span on the curse, but let's be honest, when it comes to Tanner, I check out every time he speaks. Real talk.

I pocket my phone before he can snatch it, and do my best to spit out a generally acceptable answer to a question I didn't hear.

"Yeah, sure, whatever you want."

Tanner grips the wheel so hard his knuckles pale.

"Dude, this isn't about what I want. I wanted to have dinner with Caleigh's parents tonight, but instead, I'm gonna hang back to help you not bomb your science essay."

"I can handle it, Tanner. Go be with your princess."

He whips out his good arm and lands a solid jab in the center of my shoulder. I don't even try to retaliate. I deserved that. Not getting any sleep's kinda turned me into more of a dick than I already am at 8:30 in the morning.

"I'm serious, Eli. You can't afford anymore detention sit-ins this year, so if you wanna avoid getting another one, meet me after school at the—"

And—word coma. Honestly, the guy's got a talent for putting people to sleep which is why I'm happy he's an athlete and not a public speaker. Then again, his classmates seem to like hearing him talk, but that's 'cause half of them are girls and the other half have played sports with him at some point, so go figure. If there's one thing my parents got right, it was having me a good couple years after Tanner. If we'd been in the same grade, my brain would've bled out my ears by now. Real talk.

"—did you get all that? If you're late this afternoon, I'll leave you stranded—"

Still talking.

"—and Mom'll kill you if you miss dinner. She's doing empanadas tonight and I—"

How does he not run out of words?

"—promise there will be none left if you—"

"Okay, I get it. Be on time or else. Can I go now? The bell's about to ring and Mr. K's gonna cut my balls off if I'm not in his class in the next two minutes."

Tanner cocks an eyebrow and stares at me over the top of his Ray Bans. He looks cooler in his than I do in mine right now, but that's because I'm trying to hide a watermelon of a swollen eye behind less than an inch of plastic. 

No matter how I look at it, the guy's blessed. He walks across that same freaking field everyday, and he doesn't leave looking like the phantom of Notre Dame.

Wait, that doesn't sound right.

Maybe, I should study more?

"Are you sure you're my brother? Last time I checked, you had the second highest amount of late-slip write-ups at Mission Bay," Tanner says.

"How do you even know that?"

Tanner smirks to himself which basically confirms my theory of him low-key stalking my school life. Great.

"Don't worry about my sources. But I gotta ask, what's changed? Did getting cracked in the face last night finally bring your inner nerd back to life?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Please, Mr. Pocket protector, you used to dress like a twelve-year-old Spanish Steve Urkel, remember?"

This is my problem with having an older brother. The fact that he's existed longer than I have basically means he has a license to use my past against me til' kingdom come. Now, I'm not saying I wasn't a total loser at one point 'cause I definitely was. But the only way to graduate from reject to royalty is to act like the old you never existed. 

Not a single person in this school is fully aware of who I used to be—except for Tanner. Sure, Josh knew me when I used to think wearing glasses and graph paper flannels made me look like a boss. But he didn't see my video game and braces days. 'Fifth grade 'me' was a nightmare. Tanner has pictures. Pictures I should locate and burn before he decides to use them against me.

"Why are you bringing up my loser phase right now? I'm already having a shitty enough day without you making fun of me."

My voice cracks like my balls just dropped, and Tanner barely manages to drown a smile behind a swig of his Red Bull.

"Relax, Eli. I was just trying to tease out the version of you that used to be excited about school. You used to be the first one downstairs to catch the bus back when you were in elementary."

That was before.

"Yeah, well, people change, Tanner. Not everybody can be valedictorian."

He nods, but he doesn't understand. Nobody ever questioned his English or his non-existent accent. Whenever he opened his mouth in front of his teachers, he never stumbled. Never stuttered. He always knew exactly how to say what needed to be said. 

I still can't find the right words for anything. I still don't feel like I have a language I belong to.

"I'm not saying you have to be. Look, I know studying's not a walk in the park for you, but if you learn to love it a little bit, it'll love you back. You're a smart kid when you wanna be."

If I was smart, I would've turned out like you.

"Whatever. I gotta go. See you after school."

Tanner reaches over and grabs me by the sleeve before I can escape.

"Hey, I know I'm gonna sound super lame by saying this but—try to stay out of trouble today, okay? Dad's been asking—"

"About what? Me?"

Tanner's eyes waver a little, but it's a big enough gesture to give his uneasiness away. It's always like this when he brings up Dad. The air gets so quiet and still you barely hear either of us breathing. 

I wonder if it's like this for other people. If the mention of their fathers sets everything good about a day up in flames in less than seconds. Maybe it's just me. 'Cause Tanner could go on and on about our Dad for hours and never get tired of talking about him. I can barely stomach this conversation, and it hasn't even been thirty seconds.

Tanner finally lets himself breathe and carefully places a hand on my shoulder to calm me down.

"Yeah, he's concerned about a couple things, and he wanted—"

"Concerned? Please. It's not like he gives a shit about what I do, why would he start now?"

Tanner runs a hand through his surfer shaggy hair and looks out over the dashboard instead of looking at me.

"C'mon, Eli, you know it's not like that."

"Then what is it like, Tanner? The guy doesn't even know where I am on the weekends, and suddenly, he's checking up on me like he's father of the year?"

I pop the pressure out of my knuckles, so I'm not tempted to punch a hole through the dashboard.

"Take it easy. He just wants to know how you're doing that's all."

No, he doesn't. He wants to make sure I'm not ruining the family name after he busted out the big guns to get Trevor expelled. His firm's popularity skyrocketed after the Malcolm King swooped in to defend his "golden" boy. He showed the whole city just how far he'd go for his first born by scaring the school into starting an anti-bullying program catered to athletes like Tanner.

Now everywhere Tanner goes, everybody loves him or feels sorry for him which is fine. But my dad didn't bat an eyelash when I came home with bruises I couldn't hide after my fight with Josh. He didn't ask any questions. He didn't try to save me or help me or anything. He pretended my problems weren't there. He pretended I wasn't there.

But he'd never ignore Tanner. Nobody can. The guy's spent freshman through senior year getting straight A's while being a straight edge, all-American athlete. You couldn't really ask for a better person or a better son. But that's where we're different. 

Dad asked to have Tanner. He didn't ask to have me.

"If he's that concerned, then why'd he put you up to this? Why didn't he just come talk to me?" I ask, but the words come out shaky, pathetic, and small.

Something in my chest sinks, but no matter how badly I wanna to chalk it up to anger, I know it's more than that. I care about this—about Dad more than I want to. More than I should. And even if I lied to myself a thousand times, there's still some part of me that wishes I had what him and Tanner have. 

I want know what it's like for Dad to see me and talk to me and trust me. But I could want all that for the rest of my life, and he still wouldn't give me anymore of his time or attention than he has to.

"It's not easy for him, Eli."

"Do you think it's easy for me? Do you think I'm failing right now because I want to? Maybe if he donated two minutes of his time to being a father to more than one of us then I could—"

I choke.

"—then I—"

I can't do this.

"—you know what? Forget it. I'm gonna be late."

"Elias—"

I take my backpack out of the backseat, loop my hand through the straps, and pull as hard as I can so I can get out of this car and this conversation. I open the door and step out onto the sidewalk without even thinking to say goodbye to my brother. 

Heat's pulsing through my chest, through my veins, and lighting every inch of my skin on fire. I let sadness turn into anger, grab the car door and slam it behind me. Tanner tries to call out after me, but I shove my headphones in and start walking before he can say anything else to piss me off.

I'm not even mad at him, but I'm too pissed off to turn around to explain myself. I sprint forward hoping to get as far away from the Wrangler as possible, but a hard tug on my shoulder stops me short. 

There's a loud tearing sound followed by a thud of every single one of my books scattering in every which direction. I trip backwards over my feet as the half of my backpack that's trapped in Tanner's door pulls me off balance. And then I hit someone.

Skin and bone, full on collision, and before I know it I'm on the ground, covered in something that smells like spinach and looks a lot like chunky, brown-green vomit.

"Watch where you're going, man! My mom made that for me!"

I stare up at the beanpole of a guy standing over me and contemplate completely letting myself explode. My shirt's soaked through, the crotch of my pants is damp, and I'm generally over this entire day. Pressure pulses through my jaw, but I keep my mouth shut to stop everything I wanna say from spilling out into the open. The kid grabs his now empty thermos, makes no effort to help me up or grab any of my books, and then storms off into the main building.

I wanna leave—just get up, bolt off campus, and find some place to waste the day. But, instead of doing what I want, I do the one thing I need. I get off the ground, pick up my things, and walk to class like I'm not half-drenched and pissed off beyond reason.

Everybody's quiet when I step into the room. Even the clique of gossip girls in the back stop gawking at the Daily Gawker to look up at me. Mr. Kissinger finishes writing the day's topic on the board, glances over, and then smiles at me the way I wish my dad would.

"Nice to see you here on time, Mr. King. I like the shades."

A couple of laughs ricochet around the classroom, but Kissinger silences it with a look. This is why he's the best teacher in the world. He doesn't ask me to take off my Ray Bans or make me feel stupid for wearing them. He just lets things slide which is exactly what I need right now.

"Thanks, Mr. K."

"Take a seat, we're about to start."

I tighten my grip around my books and b-line towards the back of the room.

I stare down at my shoes trying not to draw anymore attention than I already have. And then it happens. A pair of overly polished Penny-loafers step right into my path and hold their ground.

There's only one person who'd be clueless enough to wear grandpa shoes in his freshman year—which means they belong to—

"Halt! In the name of student health and public safety, I, Derek Gibner, refuse to let you pass!!"

Derek shoves his hand into my chest, and it takes everything I have not to lay him out in the middle of the floor.

"Move it, Gibner. That's the last time I'll ask nicely."

"Only if you explain the vomit stains on your shirt and give me your exact body temperature as of this morning. You should be ashamed of yourself coming to school like this and—"

I stop listening and start moving.

Two steps closer to Derek.

Ten steps closer to trouble.

I cock my arm back, curl my fingers into a fist, and—

"Elias?"

—everything freezes.

Every muscle. Every limb. Even my blood stops running at the sound of my name—

"You're Elias, right?"

—and the sound of her voice.

"I'm Lacey, your new lab partner."

###

HUGE thank you to you all for waiting so long for this chapter! The last couple weeks have been jam-packed and now as you guys all know the world's slightly turned on its head. I hope you guys are all well and are staying positive & healthy (especially those of you back in the states!). Next update should be next weekend! Schools have closed here so we're all waiting to see how the schedule over next couple weeks play out (hopefully this means more writing time)! Praying for you guys to stay calm and to continue having faith in things improving.  

#Realtalkquestionoftheweek

1. How do you guys think Elias will react to his new lab partner :P?

2. Have you ever been partnered with your crush on a project? Was it awkward or did something good come out of it?