"England is rather pretty this time of year, why don't you look out the window?"
My gaze shifted from the floor to the peculiar man beside me; dressed in a white shirt and a pair of loose jeans, he was crouched on the seat, resting his hands on his knees. I shook my head, returning my gaze to the black carpeting of the vehicle. However beautiful England might have been, it was nothing compared to my Gujarat.
"You don't talk much, do you?" He prodded, turning slightly towards me. His bare feet made sucking sounds as they shifted against the leather. I shrugged.
"There are only so many words in the world. They should be used wisely. And for scolding people."
"That's contradictory." I simply nodded, giving in and looking out the window to avoid his intense stare. The town flew by, blurred even further by the cloudy sky and light rain. We passed an epic, white-stone cathedral and I frowned, wishing I was passing Akshardham instead.
"Is there a temple here?"
"Not in Winchester, no." He said. I heard his shirt rustle, a sign of him moving as my frown deepened. "I believe there's one in Bristol and two in London."
"How far is that?"
"About seventy miles."
I sighed, pulling at the denim that coated my legs. Seventy miles was too far for me to trek each day, especially in both directions; I wondered when I'd next get to visit the house of my gods.
"Why do you keep picking at your jeans?" He asked, reaching towards me. Impulsively, I swatted his hand away.
I apologized for the reflex, returning my hand to my thigh. "I've never worn them before. I'm not used to it."
"There are a lot of things that you'll have to get used to living here, Lucky." I looked towards him, raising an eyebrow.
"Did you just call me Lucky?"
"Yes." He answered.
"My name's not-"
"I know that. At the orphanage, everyone is required to use a pseudonym. Yours is Lucky."
"I don't get a say in what I'm going to be called for the next six years?"
"Can you think of something better?" I bit my lip in contemplation, uncomfortable under his scrutinizing gaze. Quietly, I turned back to the window.
"Lucky's fine."
"This way."
We had pulled up to a huge, tan-brick building with a wrought iron fence. The odd man I had been riding with shoved his feet into a pair of tattered sneakers and slid out, heading towards the large gate. I picked my things up off my lap and quickly followed him.
It was night time, and despite the lamps lining the walkway, the courtyard of the building was extremely dark. I trailed closely behind him as he headed towards the entrance; there was no way I was letting myself get lost in this unfamiliar place so soon.
"What's your name?" I asked, realizing that, in the day or two that I had known him, it had never come up.
"L." He said, keeping his eyes forward. The rest of the walk was silent.
The mahogany door creaked open, revealing a well-lit, well-furnished atrium. Instinctively, I slipped off my shoes at the threshold, picking them up and carrying them inside. He did the same, but threw his carelessly to the side. He turned to me with a stern expression.
"Wait here." He pointed at my feet as he said it, like I didn't know what he meant. To prove that I did, I sank down to the carpet, crossing my legs and setting my things down in them. He turned away from me, ascending the left staircase and disappearing around the corner.
I hummed softly as I waited for his return, tugging absently at my white shirt. When L had come to get me, he hadn't let me bring many things along. He'd even made me leave behind the clothes I'd been wearing at the time. Drowning in a pair of his jeans and one of his white long-sleeves, I missed my usual clothing, but I tried to be thankful for what I had on my lap: if he had had it his way, I wouldn't have brought anything.
"Get back here Matt!" A voice howled from the hallway to my right, breaking my concentration. Not a second after, two boys tore into the room, the brunet in front carrying a shiny silver rectangle. The blond behind him looked murderous. I watched in amusement as he dove at the brunet, latching onto his waist and bringing him to the ground.
"Give it back!" The blond cried.
"Not until you apologize!" The brunet retorted.
"You still have five lives left in that stupid game!"
"It's not stupid!"
"You're going to melt it!"
As they wrestled for the silver rectangle, I made the mistake of letting out a giggle. Their eyes shot to me, and I immediately dropped my gaze.
"Who the hell are you?" The blond asked loudly, scrambling away from the brunet. I flinched at his volume, and they approached me. I watched my knuckles turn white as my grip on the mint cloth in my lap tightened.
"I asked you a question." His voice was severe now, and I looked shyly towards him, regretting it when I met his glare. The brunet slapped his head.
"C'mon, Mello, don't be so harsh!" He chided, flashing me a toothy grin. I felt myself relax slightly. "Pretty little thing must be new here."
The blond grunted as the brunet lowered himself down across from me, but begrudgingly followed him.
"What's your name?" He asked, folding his hands in his lap and leaning towards me.
"I'm Lak- Lucky. I'm Lucky." I answered, scowling internally at myself. I'd barely been there for fifteen minutes and I'd already almost blown it.
"I'm Matt!" The brunet bubbled, either missing the slip or ignoring it. He pointed to the blond next to him. "And this is Mello."
"Nice to meet you." I said, looking down again.
"So, how did you-"
"There you two are," a familiar voice interrupted, causing the three of us to look up. L stood behind them, trailed by a white-haired boy in pajamas and a boy who looked so similar to L that I assumed they were brothers. We stood under his gaze. "I see you've already met your newest competitor."
"Competitor?!" Mello cried. L nodded, and I noticed his doppelganger pull a jar from seemingly nowhere and pop off the lid. He stuck his hand into it and scooped up some of its contents. As he raised his fingers to his lips, he looked up at me, grinning when our eyes met. His were red, and I realized then that he wasn't related to the man in beside him.
"What happened to your face?" He asked suddenly, his voice full of glee. I frowned as he brought his fingers to his mouth, making a mess of himself as he licked the red substance from them. I figured it was some sort of jam.
"Beyond," L scolded, glaring down at the dark haired teen, who appeared very hurt. "Apologize."
"Sorry…" He muttered, bowing his head and slurping his hands. I felt my stomach churn at the damp noise.
"As I was saying," he continued, turning back to us. "Lucky is exceptionally adept at psychoanalysis, a skill which I find to be lacking in this group. That being said, her deductive reasoning skills appear to be quite poor, but her talent when it comes to chess leads me to believe that there is room for her to improve there."
"So she's lacking the one major thing needed to succeed you and she's still joining the competition?!" Mello yelled angrily, his hands clenching at his sides.
"You shouldn't be concerned, Mello," I interjected. "If you happen to win, won't you feel silly for getting so hot about the other runners now?"
The attention shifted back to me, and I regretted opening my mouth. Mello's face grew red and he hmphed, turning away from me stubbornly.
"She's right, Mello," L said. I imagined a twinge of pride in his voice but thought better of it as he continued. "You've already met Mello and Matt; this is Near, and this is Beyond Birthday," he said, pointing first to the white-haired boy, then to the jam-covered one. "The other runners."
"It's nice to meet you." I said, absently crossing one hand over my chest. When I noticed myself tapping my ring finger to my thumb, I forced myself to stop.
"Well," L said awkwardly, lifting a foot to scratch the opposite leg. "I guess I'll show you your room."
He turned unceremoniously and began to trudge up the stairs again. As I wove through the four boys to follow him, I heard them shuffling along behind me. Boldly, Matt pulled up next to me, folding his hands behind his head as we walked.
"So, where're you from?"
"Ahmedabad." I said, pulling my back pack closer to my chest. He raised an eyebrow.
"Where's that?"
"In India," an unfamiliar voice piped from behind us. I glanced over my shoulder to see Near reach up to twirl a lock of white hair around his finger. "I believe it's in the western state of Gujarat."
"That's right."
"Aren't you a little old to be carrying a blanket?" He posed, continuing to twirl his hair.
"It's not a blanket," I retorted, frowning. "It's a dupatta."
"A du-whatta?" Matt chimed, reaching for the mint material in my arms. I pulled it away from him.
"A dupatta. It's like a shawl. It was my ama's."
"Why'd you come here?" Mello asked, his voice a combination of anger and curiosity. I shifted uncomfortably under his probing gaze and turned forward to avoid it. Before he could repeat himself, a door to our left opened, and a rather round man with a white mustache and spectacles stepped out. He appeared quite old, and I remembered him being present during my trip. I had lost track of him when we got out of the car at the gates.
"There you are, dear," he said jovially, and I couldn't help but smile at him. "I've gotten a room ready for you, I hope it'll be to your liking. L, you can return to your duties, I'll take it from here."
"Alright," the peculiar man muttered, turning to me. "Welcome home, Lucky."
This is not my home, I thought bitterly, frowning as I remembered my flat in Ahmedabad. He reached out and roughly patted my hair, and, though it was awkward, I did not miss his attempt to show me kindness. I felt a grin tug at my lips. But I think I can make it work.
Woohoo, a story! It's been a long time since I've posted something on here, mostly because I'm the type of writer that hates everything I put down moments after I've done it.
This is a story I want to toy with. It's obviously a bit AU-ish and will probably contain a little OOC-ness, but I just want to take a stab at writing something interesting and original that I can see all the way through. I've finally cracked down and plotted the entire story line (hooray!), but my goal here is to learn to be less hard on myself so that I don't end up feeling like I'm a terrible writer at the end of every chapter of everything I write. That being said, I would LOVE it if you guys encouraged me, and I don't mean that in a 'don't critique me I'm fragile' kind of way! I enjoy feedback of all sorts.
That's pretty much it for my rant. I really hope that you all enjoy this!
Much love,
Marie.