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“Don’t you ever get near Emerson!” I tell him again, making sure that he knows I’m serious. Now that I see his face, and he can see mine, I am certain that he will listen to me. Emerson is my best friend, and I will not let a Pretty Boy like him hurt her for his own selfish desires.
“Hayden-” Aubrey leans over to try and stop me, but I shuffle myself away.
“I never said anything about getting near her,” the Pretty Boy argues, and I scoff in disbelief. He’s lying. Everyone lies.
I begin to make a sarcastic comment about how I can see straight through his ‘perfect’ little act, but before I can even say anything, Crusoe gives me that look. “Just drop it,” he says all knowingly. “We have better things to do than this.” I look at him square in the hazel eyes that are identical to mine. His unnaturally bleached hair is long and shaggier than usual. He is the one person that has been through everything that I have and has still come out stronger.
We were there when we stood breathless in the small doorway as our mother laid over our father’s dead body, knife in hand. We were there, holding each other as we cried and cried out to our father that was never coming home. He has been with me through everything, and I trust him more than anything in the world.
So, for his sake, I fold my arms and groan in compliance. I look over to the rest of the gang; their eyes trained on the boys across from them. Aubrey’s eyes are fixed solely on the dark-skinned boy who resembles a scrawnier, smaller version of his sister Nya.
“Well, aren’t you even prettier than the last time I saw you?” Tyler winks across the room to Aubrey. I look over at her to see how she reacts. She has thrown her long blonde hair in front of her face so that we can’t see her reaction. She takes a minute to compose herself, then flicks her hair nonchalantly back over her shoulders.
“Your unoriginal sense of flattery and your fake accent isn’t going to get you anywhere, Tyler.” She speaks to him so casually, that it’s like they already know each other. But that’s impossible, so I assume it’s her confidence that gives me that impression.
She looks down and starts to play with the bottom of her ridiculously short skirt that we all said she shouldn’t wear. Don’t get me wrong, she looks good in it, but if you’re on a mission to save your friend, and you’re probably going to have to run, a short skirt and heeled boots isn’t the best option. Still, I’m impressed that she’s pulling off the look so well, because it makes it all the better looking at the hurt of rejection on Tyler’s face.
“Guys, now that we can see, we need to focus on getting out.” Mason’s determined voice breaks the tension.
“And how do you expect us to do that?” I ask, knowing he doesn’t have the answer. He tries so hard to be the leader that we all expect him to be. I mean, he is twenty-two and a good six years older than I am; but no matter his efforts, he just doesn’t have the confidence to pull off being a leader.
“I have a bobby pin,” Aubrey suggests helpfully, and I laugh mockingly.
“Do you really think that these people would be dumb enough to let their locks be opened by-” I hear a click from the other side of the room and a cheer from Tyler. Pretty Boy has got himself out of the chains and is now helping Tyler too.
“What game are you playing at?” I glare at him. For all we know, this could all be staged. He could be pretending to play the hero of the story so that we gain his trust, when really, he is just going to hand our secrets over to his father.
“The game where he’s going to leave you in your chains if you don’t shut up.” Tyler snaps back at me and I do. Not because he told me to, but because the rest of the gang are looking at Pretty Boy in amazement.
“No games, I swear.” He says, “I just found the key next to where I was sitting.” He lifts the keys in the air to show it off, walks over to Mason and unlocks his chains.
“Thanks,” Mason says as he helps Mason up.
“May I?” Tyler asks Aubrey, snatching the keys away from Jasper before he has the chance to do it. Aubrey stares hard into the distance while he undoes her chains and helps her up. I think she mutters a small thank you to him, but I can’t be sure because she has gone so still.
Next, Pretty Boy heads over to Crusoe and undoes his hands. Crusoe nods and Pretty Boy moves over to me; his eyes set on the chains behind me. “Jas, don’t do it.” Tyler says and I sneer at him. He pauses and I see a flicker of confliction cross his face. A moment flashes by where nothing at all happens, and I almost think that he is going to leave me like this.
Eventually, he shakes his head and walks over to me. “There you are,” he says and holds out his hand, but I slap it away. I don’t need any help from the son of a murderer.
Mason can obviously feel the tension between us and rests a firm hand on my shoulder. I brush it away, and walk to the other side of the room, straightening my leather jacket as I do.
“Well done, Jasper Cunningham! Your name certainly speaks for itself,” the same feminine voice as before blares into the room. “The old key on the floor trick. I must admit that I never saw that coming.” She laughs. “Nonetheless, there is still one problem that you face.” There is a loud click and I feel the wall I am leaning on closing in.
“Guys?” Mason stutters, “are the walls…are they closing in on us?” I groan, remembering Mason’s extreme fear of tight spaces.
“Man up,” I grumble, walking towards the centre of the room so it doesn’t look like I am being pushed in by the walls themselves. “I am going to get us out of here.”
“Do you have any ideas, oh great and wise Hayden?” Tyler exclaims with a small bow, and I am charging towards him and before anyone can react, my hands are gripped tightly around his collar. I hold him up against the rapidly enclosing walls.
“Say it again,” I dare him, so close to him that I can feel his harsh breath on my face.
“Woah, buddy. If you want to get out of here, you should calm down and put me back on the ground,” he says, putting his hands up in surrender.
“And if you want to get out of here alive, I suggest you start showing me some respect.” I put him down, and walk away, anger coursing through my veins. It’s not often that the gang sees me worked up like this.
Back in Beast Eye, I am respected because I am a threat, and if people don’t give me what I want, I will break them. These guys, on the other hand, don’t understand why I don’t trust anyone. Why I keep myself so guarded that no one will ever be able to penetrate the walls I have built for myself. Even Crusoe, who despite going through the same things I have, still has too much faith in people. I will never understand how he can trust anyone after what we have seen. Maybe he has just dealt with the trauma differently. Maybe trusting people is his way of getting back at our mother. Or maybe I know that I need to be cruel so that he can be kind without getting hurt, because I will hurt anyone before they have the chance to hurt him.
The walls keep closing in, and we are being pushed against each other, “maybe if we push really hard… we can at least prevent the walls from closing in more. Everyone, get on a side. Yeah, get on a side and push,” Mason stutters. I can tell that it is taking everything within him to stop himself from breaking down.
