Sky Ghosts: Marco by Alexandra Engellmann

Author:Alexandra Engellmann [Engellmann, Alexandra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: k'12
Published: 2015-08-25T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

Pain stretched on her bunk with a loud yawn. She could hear her sister stirring on the other side of the room, grumbling into her pillow. It was eight o’clock, and outside the window the day was beautiful. Not a cloud in the bright blue sky…just like her mood. Finally.

She jerked the pillow from under her head and threw it at her sister, while sitting up.

“Rise and shine, baby!”

Jane cursed and hurled the pillow back, so that Pain flattened against the wall as she caught it.

“What’s up? It’s too early for the good mood…” Jane muttered into the covers. “Something’s not right…”

Pain smirked at her, though Jane wasn’t looking.

“You know what’s up,” she said as she pranced to the mirror. “He’s outta here.”

She studied her eyebrow: there was barely a greenish bruise left, and that meant her healing was improving. She rewarded herself with a smug smile.

“You don’t know that,” Jane said, finally raising her face from the pillow.

“He’s outta here!” Pain’s pose reflected her stubborn reply as her hands rested on her hips.

“How do you know? I don’t think…”

Pain began ticking off the reasons on her fingers.

“I saw him leaving with Skull yesterday… He didn’t show up for supper… And he’s not gonna show up today. Trust me.”

Jane sighed and fell back on her bed. With an indifferent shrug, Pain turned on her heels and disappeared in the bathroom, not trying to hide her self-satisfied expression.

Soon enough they were on the second floor, Pain pushing her sister out of the elevator impatiently.

“Hurry, hurry! I can’t wait to see it again!”

Pain shoved Jane in the back as her sister spread her arms wide, pretending to be stuck in the elevator doorway.

“What??” she asked incredulously. “The canteen?”

“The canteen without his face in it!”

The older sister finally broke free and dashed down the hall like a kid running to the Christmas tree in the morning. Jane picked up her pace and followed her, only to bump into her sister’s back as she suddenly stopped in her tracks in the doorway.

Pain stood there as if she’d been turned into stone and stared. There, among the throng of black and white clothing by the counter, a single red T-shirt stood out. It caught her attention like a red rag to a bull. Two thick, tattooed arms protruded from the T-shirt, as well as a Mohawked head. The fighters around them only took a second to notice Pain’s furious expression and point Marco in her direction.

He turned, his expression as cheerful as ever, and stood before her with his fists on his hips and a huge smile that would have looked genuine, if she hadn’t known better. Across his broad chest, a splash of white on red, shone five fat letters:

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