Disclaimer: Not mine. At all.
Author's Notes: Same universe as "Hope is the Greatest Gift." Just... not fluffy this time.
Prompt Set #2 - Prompt #4: Tarrant x Evelyn – "Show me a sane man and I will cure him for you," Carl Jung.
It was lunch, the one period of the day when Evelyn could see her friends. (Though there was a break of fifteen minutes between Second and Third Periods, but since they were all usually at different places on the grounds of the small, private academy, they never managed to get together at that time.) Well, unless it was Day 3, of course. That was the day she and Amara had their Third Period together, both because they both happened to have an Advisory for their floating X Period (Day X there was no X Period, Day 1 they had X instead of First, Day Two instead of Second, and so on and so forth until Day 6, after which everything started over again at Day X) and because Evelyn had Advisory for her Third Period anyways. Aside from that, though Evelyn wasn't the only one taking as many Advanced (Honors or AP) classes as she could of their group, the way their schedules happened to work out, none of them had any classes together. That all being said, the ice-blue-eyed blonde always looked forward to lunch; however, since it had been Day 3, Evelyn was on edge. Amara hadn't shown up to class, and when she had asked around to the few people she knew who did have classes (namely First and/or Second Period) with the older, darker blonde, she had ascertained that Amara hadn't yet shown up for classes.
With that piece of information in mind, the rest of Third, and then the entirety of Fourth and Fifth had been nothing short of hellish on her nerves; she'd been split down the middle both trying to pay attention and to worry/not worry about Amara. So, it was with no small sigh that the 5'3" soccer-player seated herself beside her long-time/childhood-best-friend and still-new-but-not-quite-as-new-as-at-Christmas boyfriend Tarrant Hightopp. He kissed her cheek sympathetically, and then turned back to his history homework. Evelyn had to allow a small smile at that; both Tarrant and Amara always tended to leave certain subjects to the day they were due and then hurriedly complete them during lunch. The ice-blue-eyed blonde was quite sure that was why neither of them managed anything higher than a solid B, grade-wise, but she never commented on it. Of course, it was the fourth and final member of their little group, along with the third and palest blonde, who noted Evelyn's rather drawn appearance and slightly anxious tapping of her feet. With one white-blonde brow raised Mirana Underland posed the question Tarrant was probably thinking, but too focused upon his work to voice.
"What's wrong, Eevee?" The only-slightly-taller blonde's voice was soft at any time, but now it was even more so with both worry and concern. She fixed the soccer-player with a dark grey, almost black, gaze, nibbling on her veggie fries as she did so. Mirana was both a Vegan, and the only person to date who could out-smart Evelyn in Math and Science. She was also the object of a crush that everyone knew about but no-one wanted to say anything about – Amara probably would have hurt anyone who tried. (No, their awkward-mistletoe-kiss hadn't changed much.)
Evelyn blushed at having been caught so easily, but answered all the same. "Amara… " She broke off, sighing, before speaking once more. "Mara hasn't shown up to school yet." She watched as dark grey eyes widened and filled with tears, and Tarrant's hand nearly broke the pencil he held, so tight had his grip become around it. She wanted to tell them both not to worry, but she knew it would be useless; they all knew what it meant when Amara either showed up late – like Third-Fourth late – or didn't show up at all. It was of no use at all to lie and say that it was probably nothing as bad as they were thinking – mostly because, knowing the situation at the martial-arts prodigy's home, it was as bad as they were thinking.
If not worse, but none of them wanted to think about that possibility.
Lunch was half-way over (1:15PM) when Amara finally showed up. Her lip was split, her blonde bangs were flecked with dried blood from a scabbed over cut on her forehead, there were mottled bruises on her face and arms – at least, the fact that there were bruises on her arms was implied, by the ginger way she moved them, or not a sprain or something – and she walked in a way that said she was fighting not to limp, but it obviously hurt like Hell. The long-sleeved shirt, jeans (her brother's, Evelyn noted with a mental wince, for which she knew her best friend would get it later), and sneakers she wore lookd more ratty than ever, and, as always, her homework was crumpled and slightly torn when she removed it from a backpack that looked like it could fall apart at any moment. The look in her dark emerald eyes – haunted and cold and scared only because Evelyn knew how to read her by now – forestalled any questions or comments about it.
"'Show me a sane man and I will cure him for you,' who said it?" The words came out brusque and a demand, her voice hoarse – from crying or screaming Evelyn couldn't tell and didn't know if she wanted to know – as Amara spread what looked to be the second page of an essay out flat on the lunch table. "I want to use it, but can't remember who said it." The elaboration was a silence-filler more than anything, and Tarrant quickly supplied that it had been Carl Jung who had said the words.
Amara finished her homework quickly, and then stood and left without so much as a backward glance. She didn't want to see the residual fury in green eyes almost the same color as her own; the tears in dark grey eyes; or the tired, pained acceptance in ice-blue ones. Mirana left soon after, mentioning that she had a meeting with their Physics teacher about a possible internship over the summer; none mentioned that she had stopped eating her tofu-dog when Amara had arrived, and ended up throwing away the rest of it and her veggie fries. It was normal, and yet it still wrenched at Evelyn's heat-strings.
She spent the last fifteen minutes of the lunch hour sobbing into the shoulder of Tarrant's jacket, and couldn't help but feel cold despite the fact that it was late April and the fact that he held her tightly and securely.