Chapter Nine

Roseline's P.O.V.

My stomach growls, and I cannot seem to fall asleep again. I sit up, yawning, and am about to make my way to the kitchen in hope of finding some food to satisfy my hunger pangs, but I see...

Is that Arin with Methys?

Something flashes through me then, a white-hot spark in the pit of my belly. I blink, seeing red. This new emotion, what is it? I hate to feel it, it makes me all bitter and sour inside. My fists clench unconsciously, and I look down, examining my hands. I learn how to pick locks, how to fight, everyone says I am amazing. But, the fact is, no one really knew my past.

In the family which I was raised, I had a perfect family, to the outsiders anyway. My sister was great at pretending to be normal, while I was always the little grumpy wet blanket. The truth was, she was bipolar, and left scars, both mentally and physically on me.

My parents always tried to convince themselves that they had given birth to a completely average baby, not the monster their younger daughter described her to be. I understood them, I really did, but still it was hard to take it all lying down. I always felt that they loved my sister more than I, but didn't bother to vy for their attention.

When I went to school, people whispered and pointed at me behind my back. When they found out I was not some rich man's daughter, they started to bully me, and there even were these fighting matches in the school carpark after school. I was dragged there, and every day, some tall guy would taunt me, then challenge some kid he looked down upon to beat me up.

I always went down.

One because I didn't know how to fight.

I always went home with bruises and broken noses from getting tossed on the ground, but my parents were preoccupied with buying 'supplements', or actually pills for my sister to cure her illness. So I decided to stand up for myself.

The first step was working at as a barista at a nearby cafe, and earning some money. Bit by bit, I managed to save up enough to register myself for a month's worth of kickboxing.

I trained hard everyday, still bruised and injured. I always fell dead asleep on the couch when I reached home.

When I finished my month's course, I was determined to show others that I wasn't some puny little kick toy. So I dared people to hit me. Soon, I earned the respect I should have had in the first place.

The only reason why I was stuck doing projects with Arin and the rest was because of Emerine. When that girl saw me hurting others, she immediately dragged me away (I always seemed to get dragged around) and gave me a long, long lecture on why fighting was dangerous.

I almost wanted to hurt her, but then I thought of my sister, how she had hurt me. I did not want to hurt others the way she did to me, and I stopped myself in time. Then she introduced me to Arin and Terris, and I stuck by them. Still, I kept my fists by my side just in case.

My stomach growling once more brings me back to the present, where I am not that young girl with the golden hair, getting thrown on the floor. I am strong now, at least to myself.

I find Arin staring at me like he was a child caught stealing. I realise I must have looked like I am shocked, but I am not. It is the past events that had freaked me out. I hate to think about the past.

I hope that he understands that I need to talk to him, to warn him about the immense danger which is Methys. Who is she to try to flirt with my... friend.

I square my shoulders and stroll into the kitchen, opening every cupboard to check for food. There is plenty, fortunately. I hear a loud smacking outside, and trepidation overcomes me. Is someone hitting someone else?

Maybe it is Methys. How dare she? I stick my head out of the kitchen stealthily. Arin is dusting off some blankets. I frown. Why does he need blankets when there is no fire, no danger?

I watch, in horror, as Arin gingerly places the blankets over Emerine, then Methys. I did not realise that I was gripping the countertop until my knuckles started to hurt. I wait for the tortoise-slow Arin to get his butt in the kitchen, and when he does, I grab him by the arm, and drag him away from the door leading to the living room.

"You can't do that with Methys!"

"What?" he knits his brows together as he rubs his arm. "What am I doing with Methys?"

"You're doing... that." I do not know how to put it.

The corner of his mouth lifts. "Are you jealous, Roseline?"

I feel my cheeks heating up slowly. "No! I'm trying to warn you, Arin, that she's dangerous. Look, she's already playing mind games with you! One second she's shedding tears, the next she's tricking you into putting a blanket over her! What-" my voice hitches by the second, but then a girl's voice cuts me off, and Arin smirks for a second.

"You know, you could just say all this in my face, you don't have to creep into the kitchen and hiss at... Arin," she falters, then takes a deep breath and continues, "like I'm some five-year-old kid."

I see a full-blown smile creep onto Arin's face. Great, my sarcasm has rubbed off on someone, and that person is using it to impress Arin. I make a face at Methys and Arin's smile disappears.

"Let's be serious now, girls. I need you guys to get food out."

"Done." I say, leaning against the island table in the middle of the kitchen, like the name suggests, a satisfied smile on my face. I bet Methys never thought of this.

Arin raises his eyebrow at me, so I gesture at the open cupboards. Methys stands on her tiptoes, and grabs out a few boxes of cereal. Placing them on the table, she examines them, then returns to the cupboard to take out bread and the like.

Fine, I will give her the credit for that. I did not think about checking the expiration date, but that does not mean she's superior to me. I walk out of the kitchen, though I do not want to leave them alone in there.

I sit next to Emeline, and shake her awake. She yawns, then stares out the window, head down. I know she must be thinking about those people. Typical Em.