Chapter 97: HCA - End
Bruno’s grandmother offered to refund the money paid for the rooms and decided to give us another room. Story cut short, we all refused. We didn’t want another round of whatever was cooking. The game might have been fun, but we were all terrified. Especially me. My heart was still thumping against my ribs like a trapped bird. While others got slapped for losing, my fucking blood was on fire from the inside for no fucking reason, all because he claimed I cheated. The memory of that heat made my skin crawl. It wasn’t just pain; it felt like my veins were being filled with molten lead.
Instead, we all decided to walk back to the school bus and wait until someone came to fix the tires or they sent another bus. Everyone said they would rather fight off bandits or a pack of hedge-wolves than deal with some baby warlock. That wasn’t my words though. That was Malo calling Bruno names while he kicked a loose stone across the gravel. The air outside was sharp and biting, but it felt a thousand times better than the heavy, cursed air of that hotel lobby.
On our way back, Princess didn’t allow me to walk. I said no. I swear I did. I said no multiple times when she offered to piggyback me, but she just ignored me. She reached down and jerked me up the same way Bruno was carried. That was embarrassing. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, my face turning red as I dangled there. Nobody cared though. Their eyes were focused on the road, alert for any sign of attack. Every rustle in the trees made someone jump. Every shadow looked like a kid with a fish.
We were back inside the bus. The interior was dark and smelled like stale upholstery and fear. Everyone’s phone lights were on, casting long, shaky shadows against the ceiling. Their powers were still recovering from that piercing sound. I could see the strain on their faces, the way they moved slowly, like they were made of glass.
Princess placed a humidifier beside me. She said it was to chase mosquitoes away. She gave me a neck pillow, a bag of chips, and a bottle of water. She was moving fast, her hands steady but her eyes darting toward me every two seconds.
"Wow, you really are taking care of me..." I said with a smile. I tried to make it light, just to lighten her mood because she looked serious as hell. Her jaw was set so tight I thought her teeth might crack.
"Just let me take care of you, okay. Once we get back to Oakland, I’m taking you to the doctor for a checkup," she said. She placed her hand on my forehead to check my temperature. Her palm was cool, a sharp contrast to the phantom fire still lingering in my bones.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Malo giving everyone on the bus pills. He was moving down the aisle, his face grim. He said it would help them regain their strength. I watched the others swallow the medicine, their throats bobbing in the dim light.
"Guess the championship is not going to be held this year," I said. The thought was a dull ache.
"The day is over. The storm might not have happened, but this was the finals, and if both teams aren’t present, it will be cancelled. So... next year," Princess said. She pulled out one of her stockings from her bag and helped me wear it. Guess whatever she packed came in handy. She was focused on the task, her fingers nimble as she worked the fabric over my feet.
I couldn’t help but smile at how she was taking care of me, like I was her baby. It was sweet, in a weird, overprotective way.
I still couldn’t believe the game wasn’t happening. Just like every other year, the biggest basketball championship was always held on the 21st of November, to honor the people who invented the game. The finals were always more intense than a normal basketball match.
Looking at Patrick asleep, I wondered if he was going to get his justice. He looked peaceful now, his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. All that anger seemed to have drained out of him, leaving him hollow.
Princess noticed me staring at him. She stopped what she was doing and looked at his slumped form.
"Don’t worry. Tomorrow, I’ll report this to my Gramps. He’ll take charge of what happened and give Peamah the punishment he deserves. And Patrick will also get his share of punishment for attempted murder. There will be justice. I’ll make sure of that," she said. Her voice was flat, the kind of tone she used when she was making a promise she intended to keep no matter what.
She started rubbing something on my skin. It was thick and smelled like mint and eucalyptus.
"Princess, what are you rubbing on my skin?" I had to ask because she was doing way too much now. She was working the ointment into my arms like she was trying to scrub off the memory of the fire.
"This is a balm to fight against the cold. I don’t want you freezing to death," she said.
I held her hand, stopping her. Her fingers were still moving, resisting the halt.
"I’m fine. I’m not going to catch a cold. My body can take it. I lived around snow most of my life, and that water wasn’t even close to the ice water I bathe with every day. Stop. Instead, you should take care of yourself. I wasn’t the only one in that hallway," I said. I tugged on her arm, pulling her closer to tuck her in with me under the heavy duvet.
She resisted for a second, her duty still calling to her, but then she sighed. She hugged me and leaned against my body. I could feel her relax, the tension leaving her muscles inch by inch.
This was way better than her trying to over warm me up. This, this was enough. She should rest too. Her breathing slowed down, syncing with mine. The bus was quiet except for the occasional cough or the rustle of a chip bag. I closed my eyes, letting the darkness take over.
I woke up to the sound of the bus engine. It was a low, rhythmic grumble that shook the floorboards. It was already morning. Bright light was stabbing through the windows, making me squint. Princess wasn’t by my side. The spot where she had been was still warm.
I stood up. My body felt stiff, my joints clicking as I moved. Some people were still asleep, their heads lolling against the windows. The bus driver was in his seat, gripping the wheel and starting the engine.
I walked to the door and stepped out into the crisp morning air.
Princess was outside, standing with a man, probably the mechanic. He was wiping grease off his hands with a dirty rag. He had finished replacing the tires and was driving off in his truck. The heavy vehicle kicked up a cloud of dust as it rolled away.
"Good morning," I said. My voice was scratchy from sleep.
Princess turned to look at me. Between her fingers was a burning cigarette. A thin trail of smoke curled up into the clear air.
So she still brought her cigarettes with her...
"Morning, Omega. It’s time we go home," Princess said, giving me a smile. She took a long drag and exhaled, the smoke disappearing into the wind. She looked tired, but the hardness in her eyes had softened. She was back to herself.
