Unveiled: The Chronicles of Luxor Everstone
Page 38
"Can I ask why didn't your get your mum to help?" Hunter squinted his eyes and opened up a new page on the browser.
"It's not possible," she said bluntly not wanting to elaborate.
"Why? Are you an immaculate conception?" There was a hint of humour. He leaned back, his chair on its hind legs against the wall.
"Jesus Christ, I just can't!" Luxor huffed. She threw her hands in the air, on the verge of whacking him with the thick book. Tell him as little as possible, her mind screamed.
"Now he was an immaculate conception," he chuckled.
Luxor removed the elastic from her wrist, and tied her hair back. It was one less thing to annoy her. Hunter was impossible, she didn't want him to be privy on any more information than possible, but then again if she was going to extract information for the mission there needed to be give and take.
Luxor sighed. "That woman who dropped me off is my aunt, and I live with her," she admitted. "Guess you're very perceptive after all."
"You have no idea," he mumbled. “But then again you knew that I knew. Didn’t you?”
Minutes passed, the constant racket of spilling Skittles into his hands the only sound. Tilting his head backwards, he flicked a candy in the air, every time it would land in his mouth. He'd sneak a glance at Luxor and when she wouldn't say anything he'd flick, pop, look all over again, until the packet was demolished. More questions were at the tip of his tongue, as if he wanted to say something but didn't know how to proceed, it wasn't a subtle move, that much Luxor was sure of.
Against the wood laminated table, Hunter tapped the yellow and black 2d pencil.
Tap, tap, tappity tap, tap, tap
Luxor slammed her hand down with more force than intended, and halted the movement of the pencil. Hunter retracted his hand, and began to fidget. Any possible stationary around he would anxiously fiddle around with it, the most annoying was the flicking of a pen.
Click, click, click, click
She huffed and snatched the pen away, at her wits end. "Could you be anymore infuriating, what is wrong with you?"
More silence ensued, in an uncomfortable cloud hanging over their heads.
"Mine died," he whispered quietly. If she wasn't close, she would have missed it.
"What?" Luxor concentrated on what he was telling her, but the clicking echoed in her ears despite it being stopped.
Hunter removed his cap and ruffled his hair. As if removing a piece of himself, he repeated. "My mother," he paused and swallowed hard. "My mother died giving birth to me. At least I had my dad though." He tilted his lips up and gave her a half smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Who knew we have something in common, well kind off."
Two big things to be precise.
Luxor gasped and her eyes widened a fraction as she reigned in her shock. But internally her brain screamed. "Mine too," she straggled out, and dug her blunt fingernails into the underside of the flesh of her thighs. Having being filed back the effect wasn't as great but she needed an outlet for her emotions.
What were the odds that she would meet somebody else who didn't have a mother? But more to the point, a mother who died in childbirth. And from Hunter of all people. Was his pain the same as hers? The guilt of being a killer, or contributing to the death of somebody else. If it wasn't for the letter, Luxor assumed her mother abandoned her, or had to leave.
Hunter surveyed her with great intensity, his eyes downcast, and no sound passed his lips. His guard was down and all the arrogance and pretence were eradicated. He no longer was Hunter who antagonised the hell out of her, and king of the filthy mind and mouth, but a devastated boy. Vulnerability swam off him in waves and tugged at Luxor's heart, but she swallowed it down and concentrated at the task at hand.
For the next few hours Hunter hacked into a string of sites which was easier to access using public Wi-Fi. He informed her he had built an extremely tight firewall which was almost impossible to "penetrate." They back tracked through social security agencies, Medicare, and retrieved birth certificates for the only part of Luxor's family she knew about; Meredith and her mother Astrid. Steven, who she always assumed was her father wouldn't need to be written in, he wasn't blood related, simply a man who pretended to care. It all became too much, and when she felt it was useless, Hunter would attempt to make her laugh with jokes, albeit dirty.
As they dug deeper into the system, she found out her mother's birthday, but no marriage certificate. It would have given her extra information, but the assignment would be handed in with a vacant space on her father's side. Her tree looked lopsided and incomplete. Two names which made up her entire history. There was a giant chunk missing and now more than ever the urge to fill that void was strong. She wanted her tree to thrive like it was luscious in Spring, not bare like Autumn.
Hunter's tree looked as bad as hers with his father's name, Orion, and his mother’s Tatiana, written down in large, blunt lettering. He made no attempt to write anything further, his thumb would repeatedly stroke over their names.
"You know my father used to call my mother his Fairy Queen because in Greek that's what it means, and she was magical in his eyes. Every night he would tell me bedtime stories, saying 'I was her King, and she was my Queen, and together we have our Prince.' As you can see, they weren't wrong, I'm a template for royalty." Hunter gave a small laugh, the old him slightly re-emerging. He twisted the pencil within his fingers, his mind seemingly somewhere else.
"Why don't you write that down? Isn't the point of this study date to well… study?" Luxor nudged him and he dropped the pencil.
He snapped out of his daze and projected his attention her. "What do you think we're doing?"
"You're helping me, where's your work?"
"I'll do mine at home." He folded his sheet in half, and then half again, and slipped it into the front pocket of his jeans.
"Where you live with your dad?" Luxor prodded eager to learn more about the real Hunter.
Hunter hesitated. "Of course, who else would I live with?"
"And your brothers, Castor and Theo?"
"Angel, what are you getting at?"
Luxor wasn't sure exactly the point of her question, just that she was inquisitive about his family tree. "It's just I know nothing about my family, and while you do, I've written much more than you."
"And I said I'll do it at home," he snapped, his teeth clenched.
"What's the point of studying? What does your father look like? How are Castor and Theo your brothers? Adoptive? Foster?"
Hunter snatched Luxor's notebook, ripping out a page, and held the pencil in a stabbing motion. His hands trembled, and as he pressed down, hard against the paper, the tip broke. "Damnit," he cursed, throwing the pencil across the table. "I'll just have to do it at home."
There was something not right, and Luxor could feel it. Maybe it was intuition, or the way Hunter’s shoulders tensed, his fingers clenching and unclenching his fingers, yet not in an angry manner. She passed her pen over. "No problem, use mine. It's not like you haven't before."
Hunter eyed the pen warily, fear flashing in his eyes. Holding the pen in the same way, his hand quivered. He paused, and his eyes closed to steady his breath. "What's the point?" he growled and pushed his chair back so hard it toppled.
Luxor jumped back at his abrupt reaction and came to his side. "The fact you are getting aggravated means there is a point. Here, I've written what my family looks like, you can probably tell I got my hair colour from my mum." She prodded, facing the list of genetic characteristics. "Tell me about your father?" Luxor asked, picking up a jelly baby and bit off its head.
“We could be using this time in a more productive manner by helping you.”
"Are you going to answer?"
Hunter sighed and sipped from his latte. "My father was, I mean is a great man. He was strict but he needed to be. Castor, Theo, and I were always getting into trouble."
"So, you've known the gruesome twosome for a long time? How about Melita?"
 
; "Woah, that's more than I question!"
"And the answer is...?" She was impatient, and tried to not make it obvious.
"Just put it this way. Castor and Theo are my brothers, stronger than blood, as for Melita, no need to go green, I have my eye on another blonde.”
“Too bad the feeling isn’t mutual.”
“Keep lying to yourself Angel,” he said. “As for Melita, she is a massive part of my life and extremely important, and nothing is going to change that. How we met isn't my story to tell."
Without warning, Luxor punched his arm with force he tilted over. Scooping up a handful of Skittles, she flipped one up in the air and caught it in her mouth. She couldn't help the smug smile.
"What the hell is that for?"
"No holds barred." She shrugged off his complaint, wanting to antagonise him.
"I told you everything, seriously I'm not going to divulge information about other people."
"Whatever, I don't care." Luxor pouted, knowing she would break him.
Hunter sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "You're impossible, you know what? Why are you threatened by Melita? This is what it's about, isn't it?"
Was it that obvious? Luxor didn't want to admit Melita was everything she wasn't— sophisticated, classy, and self-assured.
She scoffed. "Umm, that would be a no. You don't owe me an explanation."
"If I tell you as much as I can, will you drop it?"
"I really don't care."
Hunter let out a heavy breath. "Melita is my sister."
Luxor balked. What the hell? Surely that couldn’t be right.
"Don't look at me like that, this is why I don't call her that. She's my foster sister. I have known the guys and Melita since I was six, we played in the neighbourhood every day, rode bikes, climbed trees all that stuff. I won't tell how or why but when they were eight, they all came to live with me and my father. End of story."
"You do realise she's in love with you?" Luxor exclaimed.
"Anybody would be blind not to see she has a crush," Hunter admitted.
"A crush? She can't stop touching you, always by your side, I mean she even threatened me to stay away from you." Luxor clasped her hand over her mouth, not meaning to divulge the last bit.
Hunter’s eyes hardened. "When?"
"Doesn't matter, it was nothing," Luxor brushed it off.
"Like hell it isn't. Don't worry she won't bother you again, if she does, you tell me. Do you understand?" Hunter growled out, his hand still in hers. Luxor nodded taken aback by his reaction. "Say it."
"I understand," she choked out. She looked back at his worksheet. “Now you can write it down. Lucky you.”
"Just stop.” Desperation laced his words, his chest heaving with ragged breaths.
Luxor furrowed her eyebrows wanting to know even more, cautiously she slipped her hand in his, not knowing where the confidence came from. On contact, pain shot through her, up her arm and to her heart. She gasped. Heartbreak. That's what it felt like, in a dark place, and all alone. But not hers.
What is happening to me?
She dropped Hunter's hand as if it was a hot poker, and clenched it to stop the throbbing. She returned back to the table, lifted the chair back in its correct position and urged him to sit down. Once she had sat back, he followed suit.
" Is it because your mother died?" Her voice was soft, and soothing. "Surely your father has photos of her so you know what she looks like. I hate this assignment as much as you but if I could do it, I'm sure you can," she rambled generic optimistic words, which were fake even to her ears.
Deflated and despondent, Hunter shook his head, and twirled the pen between his fingers with force stopping before it snapped. He held the pen again and attempted to put it to the paper.
“You can’t, you’re…” She eyed his fingers. It took a few seconds to process the revelation, it had come out of left field, sending a blow to her system. Out of all the theories she had conjured up in her mind, this wasn't even a possibility. If anything, Luxor would have put it down to his reluctance to divulge any information, or at the very least ashamed of his handwriting.
"Don't look at me like that, like some kind of pity, case, believe me my IQ is double yours," he sneered.
"How do you figure? You're illiterate." The words came out harsher than she intended.
Hunter recoiled and his flared his nostrils. "I may have problems reading and writing but I don't need to."
"Really? I'd say basic literacy is a must in life, don't you think?"
Damnit Luxor where's your filter!
"I have an eidetic memory that should explain it all," he replied arrogantly.
"Like a photographic memory?"
Hunter rolled his eyes. "Eidetic is the scientific term, but basically when I see words, it's a blur, or a fictional language, shapes, anything. I know it's not real because I have trained my brain to distinguish and decode letters of the alphabet, but not enough for them to form into words. Slowly, like snail pace slow, it's getting better. If I had the capabilities, I'd learn it the easy way and study, but of course I can't, so I learn through audio. It's the way I've learnt to speak thirty-seven languages. Everything I ever hear, see, smell, I can pinpoint the exact moment it originated from."
Luxor's head spun with questions trying to digest what he just told her. "How is that possible, aren't they on opposite sides of the spectrum?"
Hunter gave his smirk. "Haven't you realised now, I'm an anomaly in all sense of the word."
"Yeah, I think you're full of crap," Luxor replied, but deep down knew he was telling the truth.
"Einstein didn't talk until he was four, and didn't read until he was seven, Beethoven was deaf, and yet they are considered masters in their field."
Luxor snorted. "You didn't just compare yourself to Einstein." She knew his ego was of epic proportions but that was talking it too far.
"Actually, Einstein was said to have an IQ of one hundred and sixty. Mine? Mine’s one hundred and seventy-four so that should put things into perspective." Hunter said with a straight face. Luxor pursed her lips to prevent from choking out a laugh. She truly believed Hunter had convinced himself of being intellectually smart on another level that he had convinced himself. His superiority caused his already engorged ego to inflate even further leading to a case of delusion-itis.
"Test me, anytime we've spent time together, I can tell you every last detail about it," he continued urging her on.
Luxor recalled all their interactions. Meeting him at the petrol station, the first day in the reception office, History class, library, turning up unannounced at her house and the list continued.
What instance can I prove he's a liar?
"The beginning," she stated confidently.
"We've had two unofficial, and one official, which one?"
"Official. Tell me all about our first memorable official interaction."
"Wow you think it was memorable? I call it lacklustre but anyway," he teased, crossing one leg over his knee. "It was Monday the thirteenth of February, and eight forty-six am when I entered the class, I was almost locked out but my foot halted the door. There were other seats but for some inexplicable reason I was drawn to you.
“You were already seated with your books, stationary scattered messily all over the table. There were three purple notebooks; two sixty -our pages, one ninety-six, why you had that many was beyond me. Two black pens were on the verge of rolling off but you look flustered so I doubt you would have cared. Or maybe it was the fact you we're wearing a hooded jumper on a thirty-eight-point-nine degree day.
The forecast was only supposed to be thirty-two degrees and but as per usual the Bureau of Meteorology underestimated the fact the cumulus clouds were heading west and dissipating, which indicated it would only get hotter. Would you like me to continue? Explaining the weather won't help my cause if you're aware of the truth anyway.”
Luxor’s eyes widened. Her mind drif
ting to the day, she was trying to recall what actually happened, versus what he was telling her. She remembered having excess books, and pens out because she wasn't aware of the class curriculum and if they used a certain book. She hated the outcome of his observation, and all she could do was nod her head.
"Very well then, as you wish. Where was I? Oh yes, about you. I'm not a mind reader but by your slouch you were struggling with serious dissention within. Either boredom or discontent. Following our interaction, in the remaining forty minutes I came to the conclusion it was the latter. After one introduction, four attempts at conversation, either by questions or comments to lighten the mood, I was rudely ignored. As per our relationship, you take the bait when you are provoked which is enlightening to see. You grit your teeth and your facial expressions are a mix between anger, confusion, or nervousness, as if you are conflicted where you wanted to hit or kiss me, which I have to admit is very cute.
“You were called upon and since you were enamoured in my gloriousness you didn't hear Ms. Suarez ask talk oh so tediously about family trees, history, etcetera, etcetera. Out of the kindness of my heart, I offered my services. You were hesitant at first but I eventually knew you'd break so I drew the answer for it. After a poke and a nudge, you finally clued in and answered the damn question.
“The bell rang for seventeen seconds, and thirty-eight seconds after that you ran out like your ass was on fire, leaving behind your timetable on the floor. Just love to note my fingers were almost crushed to death retrieving it by the classroom of imbeciles."
"Which you graffitied." Luxor crossed her arms across her chest.
"No, which I offered my number as after school services. I heard your stomach rumble and assumed you would go for lunch, and that's where I found you with your little blonde helper. And that brings us to here, you paying off your gratitude. Do you know how hard it was to write those damn numbers?"