One Touch

14: Blood Test Beau

If there was anyone I could do talk to about the red eyes, it would be dad. I’d thought about it before, but the sum of courage I had was too low. In the negatives even. I just couldn’t do it.

Nonetheless, here I was, standing still in front of dad’s door and pondering for several minutes whether to knock or weasel out of what I came here for. If I wanted dad’s respect, I knew I had to do something about the Energy Gods module Rick gave me. Dad wouldn’t trust me unless I got some sort of sample.

To my luck, I happened to be prepared with a lock, or several strands of Atlanta’s hair. It was the easiest to get on my part, and all it took was a visit to her house. Did I feel guilty for taking her hair? It’s just her hair. Yes, one hundred percent.

I knocked on the door as softly as I could, and heard grunts on the other side.

“Who is it?” he said in his usual hoarse voice. Oh dad. I hated to hear his voice like that, hated to know he was cramped in that room and never exposed to fresh, new air.

“It’s me, Eve,” I said. I moved my thumbs in circles, waiting for some sort of reply. “I have something to talk to you about. It’s very important.” Dad asked me what it was, but I hope for a face-to-face conversation.

The door opened a smudge, enough to let his droopy face poke out from the gap. “Is it about the experiment?” he said, and I shook my head. He shut his door and I knocked on the door again. “I’m busy.”

“I have Atlanta’s hair,” I said through the door. “I will give it you if you listen to me. Please.” I didn’t want to make this a bargain, or some kind of trade, but I found no other way around it.

Dad opened the door and stretched out his hand. I gave him the strands. “The hair is easy. You have to prove you can do more than that,” he said. I nodded, and for the first time, I saw his eyes relax—his glazed, brown eyes that were clear, yet the wrinkles of his lids dipped over his lashes.

“Can I come in?” I asked.

Dad was hesitant to open the door, but when he did, I had to resist barging in. “Come in, but don’t move further unless I tell you to.” He made room for me and my legs shook as I walked in.

What I had expected to be in his room was not as exciting or abnormal as I thought. I looked around in disappointment at the plain, creamy walls, a motionless fan, and a desk full of books, papers, and lab equipment. He was a researcher and a science professor ages ago when he was known to be sane.

His bed was neatly made, a range of wall clocks hanging above the headrest and dusty frames of family pictures on his nightstand. I was young, very young in those picture. Our family seemed to be very happy during those days, and I wanted them back. I wanted every one of those days back.

“I need to get back to work soon,” dad said, trudging over to his desk and putting Atlanta’s hair strands on a microscope slide. “What is it you wanted to talk to me about?”

“I…I might be crazy for saying this,” I began. Dad gave me a look that said he’d been through crazy all his life. “Well, it’s really weird. Every night, almost every night, after midnight, I see these strange lights outside my bedroom window.”

“What kind of lights?” he asked.

“Red lights,” I answered, and shuddered. “I don’t know if I’m imagining things. They’re in the shape of two eyes, and it feels like they’re watching me. When I take a picture of them, they disappear in the photo. When I show mom, she claims she doesn’t see anything.” Dad was silent for some time and I searched my hands for an explanation. “I’ve been seeing them for so long and I don’t know what to do.”

“Is there proof?” dad said, and I shook my head uncertainly. “Then you’re probably imagining things.” What? I had never expected him to let this matter go without an inspection.

“But don’t you believe me?” I was shocked since I’d expected way more than a statement telling me I was pretty much going nuts.

“I don’t believe blind theories without proof,” he stated, and turned his swivel chair to face the desk. “Is that all?” I was still dumbstruck to the lack of help I got from him. This was too unfair.

But at the same time, he was earnest with his beliefs. He didn’t believe anything without proof. It sounded strong, as if that was the motto of his life. If that was true, everything he had said or theorized had to have some sort of reasoning behind it. It had to be real, and that alone gave me shivers.

“Proof?” I repeated. “How about I show you? When I see the red eyes again, I’ll ask you to come over to my bedroom and show you.”

“If Cassie couldn’t see them, what difference would it make for me?” he said, looking into his microscope. He was right, but if I didn’t get him now, I’d never be able to again in the future.

“I don’t know, but you have to trust me,” I pleaded. “I have no other source of help. I am not crazy. I can really see them. Bring whatever equipment you use to make your discoveries, because I promise you this will be a good one.”

Dad paused and turned, a pensive crease on his forehead as I waited for his final decision. Please say yes. This was my chance to get closer to dad, and at the same time, have my red-eyes problem solved or brought to light.

“Find a day when no one is in the house except the two of us,” he said, and coughed a little as he swivelled around. “And I’ll think about it.”

I jumped up, ecstatic that he accepted. “Thank you!” I gushed. He motioned me out the door and I closed it behind me after leaving. I put a hand on my beating heart, feeling accomplished.

* * *

There was a mandatory blood test today at school, and none of us were told about it. I thought schools weren’t allowed to do that, but if we didn’t get our blood tested by our family doctors, we had to get it done by the school. Names were called over the P.A system, and I was one of them. It didn’t make sense since I had gotten my blood checked last year.

I had a phobia with needles and getting shots, so it wasn’t the best morning for me. The nurse’s office was empty when I came in, except the nurse of course. I’d never seen her in school before, and she definitely didn’t look like a nurse with her curled hair out in the open, a white coat over ripped jeans, and colourful bracelets circling her wrists.

“Hey there,” she greeted me. “Eve Evans?” I nodded. “Come on right here. Take your sweater off for me please.”

I took off the black coat lying on the seat and sat down after putting it to the side with my sweater. Fear crawled up my throat and sweat moistened my forehead. The nurse must’ve noticed because she smoothed a hand over my shoulder.

“You’ll feel a little pull, nothing much,” she said. Easy for her to say. She brought out the needle and my face paled. “It’s alright, close your eyes tight and imagine unicorns.”

I chuckled a little. “I’d probably imagine their manes as needles." The nurse laughed and rubbed my shoulder with a cotton swab dipped into some cold liquid.

“It’s alcohol. It’ll help with preventing infections,” she said. I was thinking it was iodine, but all my attempts to take my mind off of the needle were failing. “Take a deep breath, Eve. Come on.”

“I can’t,” I said, my head feeling hot. “I need a lollipop.” The door to the room swung open and I saw Caspian freeze in spot as he looked from the nurse to me. The nurse told him to wait outside, but he said he forgot something here.

“Alright, Eve. Let your arm relax,” the nurse said. She inserted some sort of band around the upper portion and it was taught around my arm. She brought the needle back and my eyes widened in horror. “Stay still,” the nurse told me. I closed my eyes, not feeling anything for a second. I opened one eye and got distracted when Caspian walked over. He retrieved the coat under my sweater. “You’re shaking, Eve,” the nurse said.

“I’m, I’m sorry,” I sputtered, my hands balling into fists. Caspian grinned at me. “Is this funny to you?”

“Yes,” he replied. “You need something to hold on to?” I nodded immediately and he crouched at my seat. “Here—”

I took his wrist before he offered it to me, and my shaking stopped considerably. I clenched my eyes, as the needle surged into my arm. It felt like a nerve was being pulled out of my flesh. I clenched Caspian’s wrist tighter, and hoped I wasn’t hurting him. I got real dizzy, as if all the strength in my body was being sucked out into the syringe.

“Caspian—” I heard the nurse say, but didn’t get to hear anymore.

I fainted several times when I got a shot, and wasn’t surprised today was one of those days. I didn’t know what happened after I got the needle, but I was unconscious and lying on a hard bed for several hours.

I thought it was hours. The room was quiet when my ears unblocked and I felt blood rush back into them. I became conscious of the aching in my left shoulder, and I didn’t want to move. On the table against the shelves were glass folders of tubes filled with red liquid. They must be the samples from the students, and I saw tags attached to each one. I sat up and walked over to get a closer look at them.

There was an attendance list beside the folders, and a number assigned to each student that matched the number on the tags. An idea burst into my head as I searched for the Cages. I found them on the second page listed with numbers 23 and 24 respectively. In an open shelf were a row of empty tubes.

No, this is wrong. It was wrong, I knew that, but it could be my only chance. I felt like I was doing something illegal, which it probably was. I traced the numbers 23 and 24 on the tags, and found them side by side on one tray. Before I could separate some blood into the empty tubes, the door opened and I pulled my hand back as if I was electrocuted. Was I a criminal or something—what had gotten into me?

At the doorway was Caspian and I stepped back, away from the tubes of blood samples. His eyes narrowed as he came towards the table. He stopped in between the tubes and me, as if to shield me from touching them.

“You shouldn’t be messing with a doctor’s equipment,” he told me. A doctor? Wasn’t she a nurse? “How are you feeling? You’ve been out for half an hour.” Only half an hour?

“Good,” I said. The word was bland, like sand in my mouth. “You shouldn’t be here either.”

“I’m the doctor’s assistant,” he said. Did that mean he was—? “No, I’m not a nurse. You should go back to class.” I didn’t want to go back to class with my arm feeling like a sixteen-pound bowling ball. “Wait,” he said. I glanced up as Caspian rummaged through the drawers and pulled out a cotton swab and bandage. “Come here.”

“Why?” I said, but did as I was told. He positioned me sideways and removed the bandage on my injected arm. It peeled off with ease, as if it wasn’t put on properly.

Caspian cleaned the injected area and I tried not to wince. Instead, I focused on him as his fingers brushed now and then across my skin. A lock of glistening copper hair fell over his saffron eyes as he dried my arm. They were focused and careful. He was taking an incredibly long time to do this, but I wasn’t complaining. He stuck the bandage over the swab of cotton and sealed it into place. He put the excess materials back into the drawers and I looked at my arm. It still hurt, but I could barely tell knowing who treated it. Stop thinking that way, Eve.

Caspian looked back and raised an eyebrow. “You should be gone by now,” he said. Ah, there we go. The Caspian I knew was back.

“Thank you,” I said, and left.

I couldn’t wait to go home as the school day neared to an end. I was reminded that we still had dance class before the final bell, and I resisted the urge to groan. Eddie Emilio’s fame must’ve gotten to everyone in large doses. No doubt, he was ravishing today. But so was he everyday, and it wasn’t as special anymore.

“God, I can never get tired of his hotness,” Luna sighed next to me. Ah, well. It wasn’t as special anymore for me, but he was the centre of attention for many other girls.

“Alright everyone, I’ve evaluated your dance routines with your partners for a few days and want to make some changes,” Eddie told us once we settled into the dance room. There were some cheers and sad murmurs. “Don’t worry, not all of you will have a different partner.” Zavian and I remained partners, and so did Caspian and Amber. He was broken since he’d hoped to be with Amber. Atlanta and Ronald also remained a pair by the end of class, and they liked it that way. I think.

“You do know Caspian doesn’t even like Amber, right?” Zavian muttered. I didn’t know if he was talking to me or to himself. “Right?” he asked me. I nodded in confusion as we practised our dance moves. “Then what’s it for? I don’t understand.”

“You can just talk to him, you know. If their relationship is bothering you, and you think Caspian is treating it half-heartedly, just talk to him." I wasn’t a matchmaker of any sort, but I was good with creating solutions.

“He’s a beast,” Zavian spat, his dark eyes moving to Caspian. That he was, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. “But he is my friend. I don’t know. I shouldn’t be talking to you about this. I’m such a terrible—” He stopped, shot me a look, and said nevermind.

“We should continue practising,” I suggested, and he agreed. Practising wasn’t on my list of things to do at the moment, but we needed to change our course of thought. All Zavian ever did was rant about Amber during dance class, and I would try to assure or advise him.

I took a huge step back rather than a smaller one and collided with someone, a string of apologizes escaping my mouth with the contact. When I saw who it was, I stared at the floor with a dumb expression on my face.

“A little better than yesterday,” Eddie commented with a smile. “I see your partner isn’t that big of a help.” Zavian shrugged, saying he was doing his part alone. Selfish Zavian. “Don’t feel too bad, Eve.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” I said, rubbing my neck. “I suck at dancing, so it isn’t really my partner’s fault.”

Eddie was thoughtful when he folded his arms. “We can fix that, but another day. Continue practicing,” he said, and I nodded. “And work on the footing. You have a lot to improve on, mi amor.” There it was, another Spanish term.

“Uh-huh,” I said, watching him walk away to another pair. “God, why does he keep picking on me?”

“Who knows?” Zavian said. “I think he finds you gullible or something. Or maybe he has his eyes on you with the whole ‘mi amor’ thing.”

Please, I had comments on my appearance to last a life time, and prove I was an ugly potato. There had to be another reason, or I was under an illusion.