Hi, guys.
It's been about a week; maybe a week and a day.
Here's the next chapter, as promised. I worked really hard on it.
I hope you guys love it because I stuffed it full of Jlaire.
I just really, really love Jlaire, guys.
Anyways, I'll let you get on with it.
I do not own Trollhunters.
Originally, Claire had been enthusiastic about the school trip to the Museum of Arcadia. Not only were they getting out of school for an entire day, they were also getting the chance to explore an entire museum full of historical artifacts from all over the world. Nothing could've brought her down; not her parents' scolding or even Blinky's crazy idea that her World History teacher was a changeling.
However, as she stood under the hot sun with the rest of her classmates, all of them sweating and sulking, she could feel anything but enthusiasm.
It'd been about thirty minutes since they'd stepped off the bus and they had yet to go inside. The reason for that had been Mr. Strickler getting a head count, but now it was because their tour guide—an Asian woman who was also one of the museum curators—was busy spieling.
"I know contemporary media might lead you to believe European history is full of swords, sorcery, and scandal," Ms. Zelda Nomura said, giving exaggerated waves of her arms. "I assure you, the truth is far more interesting…."
She, along with most of the class, looked on, bored. The only exception was Eli, who had his hands clasped and an enchanted smile donning his face. Even Mr. Strickler looked bored as he stood beside Ms. Nomura, picking at his fingernails and rolling his eyes.
"And there's no better place to start than Renaissance Era Pottery."
Her class—minus Eli—let out a collective groan.
Thankfully, Mr. Strickler stepped in before their tour guide could continue, "Ah, Miss Nomura. Since we have limited time, perhaps it's best if they explore the museum on their own. Don't you think?"
Ms. Nomura barely opened her mouth before her class scattered.
Grouping up with Darci and Mary, the three of them raced their way into the museum lobby, following behind Steve and his friends, and running ahead of Jim, Toby, and Eli. Their class's combined laughter echoed off the walls as they scanned the directory together.
"Dude, dinosaur fossils are this way!" someone said and left.
"Yo, medieval weapons down… that hall!" someone else shouted and ran off.
Slowly, the crowd shrunk until she didn't have to budge someone out of the way to look at the board.
"So, what're looking for, C-Bomb?" Mary asked as she nudged up next to her. "You wanna be a goody two shoes and go see some of that renaissance pottery?"
She gave her friend a look before rolling her eyes.
"Renaissance era pottery?" she scoffed. "No thanks. I prefer renaissance era dresses."
She pointed at the named heading and quickly cross-referenced its location on the museum map. Within minutes, they were chatting and giggling down a hall. They passed paintings and ornate drapes, a few glass cases holding pottery and busts, and a big, red, crossed-out circle signifying an off-limits exhibit.
Eventually, they made their way up a flight of stairs and she gazed upon a set of tall, glass cases holding dresses, suits, and medieval suits of armor. Tall windows sat between each case, letting sunlight pour in and illuminate the exhibits, making it all magical.
"Hey, Claire." Darci nudged her with her elbow. "You better close your mouth before you catch a fly."
She rolled her eyes and turned her awe and wonder down from an eleven to a seven as they strolled past the exhibits. Studying each one, she took note of the differences between their design and modern designs. It was easy pointing them out, but it was hard wondering how to recreate them in a more functional way.
Though they looked uncomfortable, they also had a certain charm that enchanted her. One particular dress, a white and beige one with a golden tan top caught her eye.
"Look at that embroidery," she breathed, putting a gentle hand against the glass as she peered into it.
There was a hum from Mary and a snicker from Darci, but she ignored them as they walked off. A moment passed as she looked the dress over a couple times, picking out more and more details that either wowed her or just intrigued her.
Then, Steve leaned over beside her.
"Hey," he greeted, but she narrowed her eyes and ignored him. "Sorry, you got caught up in that little tiff between Lake and I."
She blinked and made a surprised face. Steve almost never apologized, especially if it was for bullying someone.
"But," he continued, ignoring her ignoring him, "I just want you to know, since joining the play, I feel like there's another side of me that really wants to come out."
She tilted her head and gave him a dubious look. "Really?"
He nodded and hummed. "Yeah."
She pursed her lips and watched him for a moment, internally weighing her options. Either she could accept his apology and be the better person, or she could rebuff it because he was probably lying… but if he wasn't….
"Apology accepted," she said, holding back a sigh. "You were acting like a huge jerk… but…." She swallowed. "Sorry about kneeing you in the gronk-nuks."
He gave her a look. She tilted her head again, and then looked away when she realized that she said gronk-nuks.
"Uh… nah, that's alright," he said after a while. "You're right, I was a huge jerk."
She hummed and went back to peering into the dress exhibit.
I wonder if it could fit me?
Briefly, she fantasized about wearing the dress.
It'd be for a performance; better yet, it'd be for the performance, when they finally played out the story of Romeo and Juliet for Arcadia on stage. She'd be wreathed in gold and white, standing under the spotlight as she called out to Romeo; pouring out her heart and declaring her love as he did. Then, Romeo would call to her and they'd speak their lines and play the dangerous game of love….
She smiled and blushed, then tore her eyes away from the dress.
Maybe I'm getting a little ahead of myself.
Running a hand through her hair, she looked back up at the dress.
Before she could go back to studying it, though, a voice spoke from behind her, "I wish our play had these costumes."
Glancing over her shoulder, she watched Jim step up beside her, his face a little red. She gave him a smile and a laugh. "I know, right? With our school budget, I'll end up doing the balcony scene in my bathrobe."
She expected him to laugh, or give a goofy smile, but instead, he cocked his head and said, "Hey, if anyone could pull it off, it'd be you. You're the only one on stage who looks like they know what they're doing."
For whatever reason, her heart fluttered and her smile got a bit wider.
"Thanks," she said, rubbing her left arm. "You should tell that to my parents."
His smile dropped, and he raised an eyebrow. "Why's that?"
She drew in a breath and sighed, then turned around to lean on the second floor railing. Beside her, Jim's friend, Toby, was messing around on his phone and further down the railing, a bunch of their classmates were huddled together, looking at someone's phone.
"Well," she said, "the one time I get a B, what's their advice? Drop the play."
Jim gave a shocked look before crying out, "Are they crazy? You were born for this! It's like- like-"
He stopped for a moment when his friend, Toby, nudged him and whispered something in his ear. She raised an eyebrow, but Jim just brushed it off.
"It's your calling," he finished, wearing a confident smile.
She rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless.
"It'd be my second one," she mumbled, thinking back to last night's meeting with Blinky and Aaarrrgghh. "But, if acting's my calling, then what's yours?"
She watched him blink and open his mouth, only to close it.
"Uh…."
"Come on, Mister Guru," she said, crossing her arms. "What's calling you, Jim Lake Junior?"
Jim tugged at the collar of his shirt as he stammered, "Uh, well… I, uh…." He swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I… don't really know?"
He held up his hands and shrugged, giving a nervous smile, to which she giggled.
"Really?" she teased. "You can be so passionate about my future, but not about yours?"
Turning his eyes away, he leaned over the railing and rested his chin in his right hand. "I mean… I'm great at cooking. I guess I could be a chef; or something."
He shrugged, but she didn't relent. "But what do you like doing?"
She expected him to stammer and sputter and rub the back of his neck out while he tried formulating a sentence. Instead, however, he looked up. Their eyes met and she studied his sky blue eyes for the longest time.
She only stopped when he looked away, blushing as furiously as her. Neither of them said a word for a few minutes, continuing the reign of silence between them. Then, though, she noticed him looking back and she turned her eyes back on him.
"Honestly," he said, standing up, "I don't really want to know."
She stood up straighter, taking on a more serious face as he sighed. "I know that we're supposed to be getting ready to go to college and find a job and just be an adult in general, but…." He visibly bit back a groan. "Oh, this is going to sound super cliché, but I just want to have a little more adventure before I have to settle down."
Jim didn't meet her eyes again. Instead, he went back to leaning over the railing, head down and eyes watching the floor below. She watched him, though, and felt her fluttering heart drop just a bit.
Biting the inside of her cheek, she reached over and put a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey," she said and he looked up, his eyes a little wide, "it's not a bad cliché."
For a second, he just stared at her. Then, he cracked a smile and laughed under his breath.
"Yeah… I guess."
Claire wasn't sure when she and Jim had stopped sharing their career interests. She wasn't even sure when they had left the dress exhibit. They'd transitioned so easily from talking and leaning to talking and walking.
Together, they'd walked down halls and through chambers, taking in the arts and relics on display. The entire time, they chatted about varying subjects, constantly shifting from one topic to another as they pointed out facts about each exhibit they came across.
It was around twelve-thirty when they headed back to the museum lobby, backtracking to the dress exhibit to find their way there.
"Well, this was fun," Jim remarked, smiling. "I honestly didn't think I'd like walking around the museum."
"Why's that?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
He shrugged, but also smirked. "Come on, you know how I am in World History class."
She snorted, but someone else spoke up, "Indeed, we do, Young Atlas."
Both of them tensed up at the voice of their teacher. Turning around, they found him standing there with a smile.
Mr. Strickler nodded at her. "Hello, Claire."
She gave him a small wave back. "Hi, Mister Strickler."
He turned to Jim then, his smile growing. "Young Atlas."
"Uh, hey, Mister Strickler," he said, waving too.
"How are you two?"
She exchanged a look with Jim and they both shrugged.
"Uh, we're good," Jim answered.
"That's wonderful to hear," Mr. Strickler remarked, but for some reason she felt like there was a second meaning she was missing. "I hope you both enjoyed the exhibits."
"We did, sir," she said, and he nodded.
Suddenly, though, the smile he wore turned into a frown and his gaze went from friendly to serious.
"Oh, before I forget," he said, "my pen went missing just yesterday. You wouldn't happen to have seen it, would you, Claire?"
"Your teacher may very well be a changeling in disguise."
Suddenly, the pen in her pocket felt heavier than Daylight when she first held it and she tried her hardest to look as discreet as possible while hiding the indentation in her jeans. "Uh, I-I don't think so, sir."
"Are you certain?" he asked, cradling his chin. "You were the last person in my office before it disappeared."
There was a glint in his eye, a predatory look that sent chills crawling down her spine. Breathing was getting harder to do, what with her heart pounding and chest heaving. A whisper in the back of her head—suspiciously sounding like Blinky—told her to grab her Amulet and don her armor.
However, she resisted the urge to dig it out of her purse. She really didn't want to assault a perfectly normal human and scare the living daylights—no pun intended—out of her friend. She already had enough trouble hiding her secret, trollhunting life as it was.
Yet, she couldn't help but keep on listening to that Blinky-sounding-voice, because maybe, just maybe, he was onto something about her teacher being a changeling.
"Well, I-I remember seeing it on your desk," she said, wringing her hands in front of her. "B-But, I didn't take it, or anything."
She tried giving an innocent smile, but it shrunk at his unimpressed frown.
"Truly?" he asked, voice devoid of sympathy.
His gaze bore into her, burning a hole deep enough that he could see her heart and every secret she kept close to it. Yet, before he could look, Jim stepped in his way.
"Come on, Mister Strickler," he said, gesturing at her. "This is Claire, you're talking about here. You know, the honor roll student, usually gets A's on her tests, almost never turns things in late, helped me out with my Spanish presentation."
Jim counted off his praise on his fingers, keeping eye contact with their teacher the entire time. On the other side, Mr. Strickler looked back at Jim, his sudden callousness softening into uncertainty. Meanwhile, she fidgeted behind her friend, her pounding heart now fluttering and her cheeks burning with a blush.
"I suppose I see your point," Mr. Strickler said then, tugging at the collar of his shirt. "I apologize, Claire, if I caused you any discomfort."
She smiled timidly and gave a small shrug. "That's alright, sir. I'd be pretty mad too if I thought someone took something of mine."
He hummed and nodded. "Indeed." Lifting his arm, he checked the time on his watch. "It would seem that our time is almost up. Perhaps we should-"
Before he could continue, a rustling beside them drew their attention. Suddenly, they became aware of the fact that they were standing beside the unfinished exhibit, still marked off by a red, crossed-out circle. The white curtain behind the sign, however, had been lifted up by a museum curator/their former tour guide, Ms. Nomura, who was currently sticking her hand out and looking at their teacher.
"Strickla- Er, Mr. Strickler," she stumbled, noticing her and Jim standing there. "I've been looking for you, sir."
"Oh?" he said, turning his attention to the Asian woman. "Has one of my students caused an issue?"
Claire looked between the two adults, then glanced at Jim who shared the same, lost look. They shrugged at each other, waiting to see if they'd be included in the conversation or not.
Ms. Nomura shook her head. "No, they've been quite… pleasant."
She'd noticeably forced the word out, but Claire couldn't blame her. When she and Jim had walked around the museum, they'd found most of their classmates messing around rather than appreciating the exhibits. Thankfully, Darci and Mary weren't a part of that rowdy crowd.
Biting back the hilarious thought of both her besties causing chaos and pandemonium, she tuned back into the conversation.
"Actually," Ms. Nomura said, "it's about our shared acquaintance."
The Asian woman stepped out from the curtain, lifting it up briefly. Neither her or Jim could resist glancing past Ms. Nomura, the curiosity drawing their eyes to a large, stone structure set in an expansive chamber.
Whatever Jim's reaction was, she didn't catch it. She was too busy trying to comprehend the familiarity of the curved, jagged markings covering the exhibit.
There were whispers in the back of her head, tickling her brain with terms and definitions. She couldn't place any of them immediately, not until the curtain fell and Jim glanced at her.
"Are you okay, Claire?"
She blinked a couple times before giving him a nod. "Y-Yeah, just… thinking." Slowly, she craned her neck and looked at the conversing adults. Swallowing down her hesitation, she spoke up, "Um, excuse me?"
Both of them turned to look at her, their eyebrows raised.
"Yes, Claire?" Mr. Strickler asked.
She shifted nervously under their gaze, but managed to direct her voice towards Ms. Nomura, "Uh, well, I was wondering what exhibit you guys were working on in there?"
The Asian woman followed her eyes, looking over her shoulder at the closed curtains.
"Oh," she said, "I'm afraid that exhibit isn't ready to be shown yet."
"O-Of course, but, I was just wanting to know what it'll be about."
Ms. Nomura creased her lips, and suddenly, the courtesy she had shown beforehand had disappeared. With a hand cupping her chin, she looked off into the distance, in thought.
Beside her, Mr. Strickler looked a little tense, like he was about to get caught for something….
Claire moved her attention back to Ms. Nomura just as she answered her question, "Well, I'm not in any position to reveal the whereabouts of our newest exhibit, but I can tell you that it will be finished and open to the public in a little over a month."
A jerk of movement to their left drew Claire's eyes and she glanced at Mr. Strickler who glared harshly at the museum curator. Ms. Nomura, in turn, held her polite smile, but it almost seemed to turn smug as she glanced over at the other adult.
"Well, that's awesome," Jim suddenly spoke up. He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled nervously. "So, it's, uh… it's getting pretty late, right, Mister Strickler?"
Claire glanced at their World History teacher, then at the closed curtains. Those strange, familiar markings were haunting her mind, like distant memories that were right in front of her.
For a moment, she closed her eyes and breathed. She tried clearing her mind, but those whispers in the back of her head were still trying to tell her something… something about markings; about stone; about weird, ancient things that should mean something to her.
Why should they mean anything to her? She was just an ordinary, human girl… and the Trollhunter.
Claire ducked in a breath, and then patted the pocket on the side of her purse where the Amulet sat snugly.
Before Mr. Strickler could check the time again, she shouted, "I lost something!"
Both adults had been caught off guard, their faces wild and a bit disturbed. Beside her, Jim looked like he'd just had a heart attack.
"Is… that so?" Mr. Strickler said, cautiously.
She nodded, bashfully. "Y-Yes, sir. I- I think I left it by the renaissance dresses."
With that, she practically sprinted down the hall past him. There was a call behind her, but she ignored it as she navigated the halls to the dress exhibits, praying that Darci and Mary were still there. For added insurance, though, she pulled out her phone and called them.
"Hi, this is Darcy. Sorry, I can't answer the phone right now-"
Claire cursed, "Fudge-knuckles."
She called Mary's phone next.
A second passed... then another...
"Hey!"
She smiled. "Mary, thank God!"
"How's it going?"
She shook her head. "Not good. It's going really bad actually."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah, seriously-"
Without warning, a burst of laughter erupted on the other end of the line, startling her. Stumbling in her step, she almost ran into a glass case full of painted plates. Thankfully, she caught herself just before that happened.
"Sorry. Sorry, I'm not actually at the phone right now. But if you leave a message I'll-"
She didn't let Mary's voicemail finish, ending the call with a scowl.
"Come on, Claire," she muttered, crossing her arms and tapping her foot. "Think. Those markings were trollish. Where have you seen something like that before?"
She combed her memory. Picked apart every little thing that popped up. Anything and everything remotely related to trolls and stone relics, she held in her mental spotlight and scrutinized. Yet, the only thing she could place about that mysterious exhibit was that it was making the alarm bells in her head go off like she was fighting Bular again.
Holding the sides of her head, she groaned. "What am I going to do?"
If neither of her friends were answering, then they were either busy or their phones died. Either way, she didn't have a lot of time to keep calling before Mr. Strickler came to check up on her.
Claire looked at her phone, then glanced at the camera on its back.
A picture would work, but she'd have to get into the exhibit first. That would be impossible with Ms. Nomura and Mr. Strickler standing right in front of it. Not unless she had a distraction, or something….
"Claire!"
Or someone.
Jim came running down the hall—well, more like stumbling. By the time he stopped next to her, he was panting and heaving, falling over with his hands on his knees. He took a couple minutes to catch his breath, holding up a finger while he gulped in air.
As she watched him, though, she couldn't help but picture him in her plans. Suddenly, it seemed possible to distract the adults down the hall. She could sneak in and take those pictures, then get out before anyone noticed… but asking Jim to basically help her break the law?
"Jim?" she called in a quiet voice.
He looked up at her, taking in one big, final breath before standing up tall. "Y-Yeah?"
She fumbled with her hands and looked at the ground. "I… Can I ask you to help me with something?"
"Uh, yeah! Sure, anything!"
Daring a glance up at him, she spied the goofy grin he wore. Something squeezed her heart. It might've been the sudden realization that Jim looked absolutely adorable with that look to his face. Or it might've been the crushing realization that she was about to ask the boy who was crushing on her to do something illegal. Either way, she felt a weight drop on her shoulders.
Breathing in, then out, she asked, "Could you talk with Mister Strickler?"
"Talk with him?" He raised an eyebrow. "About what?"
"I… I don't know; something; anything. Just… keep him looking away from the exhibit. Okay?"
"Keep him looking away from- Wait." Jim sucked in a breath and she averted her gaze again. "Claire, you're not planning on-"
Her guilt-ridden face must've given it away, because suddenly, she heard Jim shifting his feet and turning around. Glancing up, she watched him run his fingers through his hair and mumble in an incredulous voice. Then, without warning, he turned back around and laughed. "O-Okay. Okay, you got me."
He smiled. She didn't.
"Please tell me this is a prank," he pleaded, but she shook her head.
"Look, Jim," she said. "I need to get a picture of that exhibit. I can't tell you why, or what it even is. All you need to know is that I need to."
He looked at her for a long while. She could practically see the gears turning in his head and the scale balancing his options.
He rubbed the back of his neck while looking away. "I-It's just a picture, right?"
She nodded. "Yes."
He blinked a couple times, glanced around, and then nodded. "...O-Okay."
She had to take a couple seconds to process his answer.
"Really?" she asked, eyes wide with surprise and sudden awe. "You're okay with helping me break the law?"
He shrugged and smiled. "Well… I did say anything.
The gesture was probably just his way of covering up his anxiety with comedy. Yet, she couldn't help but snort and giggle. She brought a hand up to stop herself, but her efforts were in vain and Jim's smile grew.
Claire didn't know what possessed her then. It might've been the heat of the moment, or some charitable part of her brain telling her Jim needed a reward. Or maybe it was that other voice in the back of her head that sounded like Mary, telling her that Jim was the cutest boy she'd ever known. Whatever it was, it compelled her to stand up on the tips of her toes and plant a chaste kiss on Jim's left cheek.
The full realization of what she'd done hit her the moment she stepped back. Both of their eyes shot open wide, though, Jim's seemed to glaze over.
While she blushed the hardest she'd ever blushed, Jim cupped the cheek she'd kissed and smiled dreamily.
She coughed into her fist then, bringing him out of his trance.
"I-... Thanks, Jim," she said, "for doing this."
He gave her one of his quivering grins and brought out those fingers guns he seemed to find of. "N-No problema."
"Problema is very big," he muttered while walking as casually as he could down the hall.
Emphasis on the 'as casually as he could'. How did people walk casually? What even was 'casually'? Should he stick his hands in his pockets and whistle? Nah, that would look stupid… or maybe it wouldn't?
Every other step, he alternated between jamming his hands in his jacket pocket or pulling them out.
"This is stupid," he said quietly. "But, Claire… she kissed me."
He could almost feel her lips on his cheek again. They were soft, and her hair had smelled so nice; and also, a little fruity, probably because of whatever shampoo she used.
A dopey grin showed up on his face again, but he fought it down when he spotted Mr. Strickler and Ms. Nomura, both still standing in front of the unfinished exhibit.
He sucked in a breath to calm his nerves. "Okay, here goes nothing."
He strut down the hall with purpose, drawing the eyes of both adults. Ms. Nomura was the first to notice him, raising an eyebrow and giving him a strange look. Mr. Strickler followed, doing the exact same thing, albeit, with a much more stupefied face.
"Young Atlas, what are you doing?"
"Um, nothing, sir," he answered, coming to on the right side of the curtains. "Wh-What are you doing?"
Immediately, he flinched and opened his mouth to take back the words. He didn't mean to say that so defensively; but he did, and, in response, Mr. Strickler narrowed his eyes.
"If you would like to know, Jim, I was waiting for you and Miss Nuñez to finish finding whatever personal belonging she misplaced." He glanced behind him, down from where he'd come strutting. "Has she found it yet?"
"Uh, no," he said. "She hasn't found her… phone, yet."
Mr. Strickler took on a thoughtful look and cradled his chin. "Her phone, you say? Why not call it and follow the ringtone?"
"We can't."
Jim bit his tongue and cringed at the abruptness of his reply. The suspicion on Mr. Strickler's face grew bigger and he raised an eyebrow.
"And why not?"
"B-Because…." He swallowed and wracked his brain for a reason.
There was movement down the hall then, and he glanced at the purple-clad figure of Claire making her way towards them. She was tip-toeing in her socks, her shoes held in one hand. Her eyes were wide, and he darted his eyes back up to the adults.
Mr. Strickler was in mid-turn, looking to investigate what had stolen his attention, when he blurted out, "Because she put it on silent!"
His World History teacher and the museum curator jumped. He gave a sheepish "sorry" immediately, but then shrugged his shoulders and lifted his hands up. Mr. Strickler didn't look too convinced at first, but slowly, the suspicion on his face dwindled. However, Ms. Nomura, who'd stayed silent the entire time, decided she wanted in on the interrogation too... Just his luck.
"Why did she turn it on silent?" Ms. Nomura asked, crossing her arms.
In the background, Claire stopped in her step and paled. He reflected her frightened composure for a second, but then swallowed and searched for a reason.
"Well," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "she… didn't want it to… ring out loud and bother other people?"
The adults shared a look before they nodded to each other.
"Does she require any assistance?" Mr. Strickler asked then. "I'm sure Ms. Nomura here could ask security to-"
"No!" he cried out immediately, startling both adults for the third time today.
Geez, he and Claire were going to give them heart attacks.
"I mean, no. She's… She's fine," he said, eyeing her stepping up behind Ms. Nomura. "She said that she might've dropped it while we were walking around the museum, so… uh, she told me to tell you that she'll find it and meet us at the bus."
Jim crossed his fingers behind his back.
Mr. Strickler hummed and gave him a skeptical look. "Truly?"
He nodded. "Y-Yes."
A minute passed in silence, with all of them watching each other. Claire, in the meantime, had frozen, one hand holding her shoes, the other lifting the curtain. The mentioned curtain swayed ever-so-slightly, just a tiny movement off from making a sound.
"Well then," Ms. Nomura said, turning around, "If everything is fine, then I'll get back to-"
The world slowed down, as if the whole planet had been dunked in molasses. He watched as Ms. Nomura turned, moving barely a centimeter as Claire backed away, letting go of the curtain. Mr. Strickler next to them was tilting his head up into a nod, but before he could bring it back down, Jim cried out, "Wait!"
Ms. Nomura snapped her head at him, eyes big and rounded, but full of fury instead of shock. Mr. Strickler, on the other hand, had a hand over his heart and gasped, "Young Atlas! What has gotten into you?"
Behind them, Claire lifted the curtain up and flashed him a smile and a thumbs up before sneaking in.
Claire only breathed a sigh of relief after the curtain had fallen and she'd walked about a meter in. Even then, she kept it as quiet as possible.
She had no idea if Ms. Nomura had been the only one in here. Though, it certainly looked like it.
The room in question was a wide and spacious exhibition hall with the only source of natural light being a skylight above. Crates were stacked up all along the walls, with canvas covers draped over some piles. Some of the crates were open, left empty on the ground.
Though, she could guess where their contents went.
Pushed up against the back wall of the exhibition wall was an incomplete, stone arch. Trollish markings adorned its sides, running in lines around carvings of troll warriors pitted in battle.
Her eyes scanned the exhibit, taking in the whole image before she pulled out her phone.
Taking pictures, she moved around it, all-the-while cross-referencing its appearance in her head. She drew up mental images of anything that looked similar or had the same significance. From her knowledge on human architecture, she could tell that it was probably some kind of archway… or a bridge.
Stepping around to the side of it, she eyed the unfinished walkway running the top of it, guarded by railings. After taking a photo of that, she moved back around to the front and eyed the markings. "I wonder what you say."
She reached into her purse for the Amulet, keeping her eyes trained on the carvings as she did. However, the moment she felt its cool, metallic surface, a horrible sensation overcame her.
It was like all her anxiety had balled up and settled in the pit of her stomach, weighing her down from the inside.
She gave a gasp and stumbled back, then looked down into her purse to find the Amulet glaring. Its blue light was unnaturally harsh; almost blinding. She had to blink away the brightness as she took it out.
Immediately upon holding it up, though, she felt an invisible force tugging it out of her hand. She stifled a gasp and tightened her grip in response. Then, she twisted to the left and right.
"Something's pulling it towards the bridge," she said to no one in particular. "Why?"
Taking a few steps forward, she watched the Amulet shine brighter and brighter while its humming nearly became a scream.
Then, a hand grabbed her shoulder.
She let out a shriek and twisted around, coming face-to-face with a security guard. Behind him, Mr. Strickler and Ms. Nomura were watching, both holding stoic expressions. Between them, Jim squirmed anxiously, averting his eyes from her.
The security guard crossed his arms. "You aren't supposed to be in here."
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Claire glanced to her left and watched Jim bounce his right knee anxiously. If it was anything to go by, then he must've been feeling frightened. Add on his sweating brow and pale complexion, then he was downright terrified.
She was in the same boat too, of course. Although, she was handling her soul-crushing anxiety a little quieter by crossing and uncrossing her legs, as well as fumbling with her hands.
Still, though, that didn't change the fact that they had broken the law and were now facing the consequences. That included having their phones taken, their parents called, and being held up so that they couldn't head back to school with the rest of their class.
Claire unclenched a hand and breathed in, then out.
She had to stay calm. If not for her, then at least for Jim. Speaking of which….
She looked over at him again, barely catching him stealing a glance at her. She almost smiled at him but stopped short. After a few seconds of silence, however, she half-heartedly joked, "Well, that could've gone better."
She flashed a small, sheepish smile. Jim looked at her for a moment, and then looked away.
"Yeah," he mumbled.
Her heart wrenched, and she writhed on the inside. She wanted to say something; an apology, maybe some encouraging or reassuring words. Yet, knowing that she'd dragged him into this—into something that should've just been Trollhunting business—stopped her.
Rubbing her arms, she breathed in, then out.
Beside her, she watched Jim look over at Mr. Strickler, who was busy talking with two police officers.
She was thankful that the museum hadn't pressed charges against her or Jim. They'd actually been pretty lenient with them. She suspected Mr. Strickler and Ms. Nomura might've had a hand in that.
Too bad they couldn't get them to give their phones back. She was probably getting a hundred texts from everyone at school, and probably a thousand from Darci and Mary alone.
She glanced at Jim again, and wondered how many texts he was probably getting. His friend, Toby, was probably blowing up his phone, and she imagined his parents- Er, parent was….
Claire sighed heavily and put her face in her hands.
Thinking about Jim's mom, a single parent, dealing with this was making the guilt in her overflow.
"Hey."
She blinked and looked up, then over at her literal partner-in-crime.
"A-Are you okay?" Jim asked.
She stared him for a bit, a little stunned.
"I… Am I okay?" she questioned. "Are you okay? I dragged you into this mess."
She gave a weak gesture with her arms, but Jim just shrugged.
"I mean, we're not in too much trouble-"
"James Anton Lake Junior!"
They both jumped and looked to the front doors where a red-headed woman came marching in. She stopped just past the entrance, adjusting her glasses with a scowl. Then, after taking in the sight of the museum lobby, she made a beeline for Jim.
Beside her, Jim stood up and held up his hands. "M-Mom. Look, I-"
"I don't want to hear it," the woman, his mom, snapped. She pinched the bridge of her nose while Claire looked between them. "I can't believe- Why would you- Urgh!"
She bared her teeth and twisted around, looking away from Jim. A loud sigh came from her and Claire watched her shoulders slump.
The sound of leather shoes on the tiled floor drew her attention to an approaching Mr. Strickler. He wore a sympathetic face as he came up to Jim's mom, holding out his arms.
"Hello, Barbara," he greeted politely, keeping a respectable distance. "I'm sorry we are meeting under these circumstances."
Jim's mom looked at him and breathed in, then let the breath tumble out. Then, she turned back around and faced them.
Her face shifted between anger and sorrow; jumping from an angry red shade to a softer pink one. Her arms remained crossed and her body stayed stiff, up until she brought a hand up to hold her forehead.
"Jim," she called, voice almost cracking, "what-..." She swallowed. "What were you thinking?"
Beside her, Jim opened his mouth, then closed it. His shame was showing up in red all over his face as he looked down at the ground. He opened his mouth again, but then closed it all the same. The only answer he could really give was a shake of his head.
Looking back up, Claire watched his mom sniff and sigh, then turn her furious, blue eyes on her.
"Maybe you can answer me," she said, glaring at her.
Though she'd survived an encounter with Bular, she had to give Jim's mom a higher score on the intimidation scale. In an instant, the color had drained from her face and her body had frozen up out of fear.
She opened her mouth. "I-I… I- Uh…." She summarily closed her mouth.
Jim's mom's glare was threatening to burn her alive.
"Mom," Jim suddenly spoke up. She looked at him immediately and he flinched under her scathing look. "Look, it wasn't her fault."
"Then it was yours?" she snapped.
"I… Yeah, it was."
Claire watched him, wide-eyed and mouth agape.
Had he seriously just taken all the blame? Without question or regret?
Suddenly, before Jim or his mom could continue, Mr. Strickler coughed and called, "Young Atlas."
The name alone made the boy next to her visibly shrink a bit.
"Might I ask, are you certain?"
Jim swallowed, and she waited for him to speak.
"Y-Yes."
"Truly?" Mr. Strickler pushed. "This wasn't Miss Nuñez's idea?"
Their World History teacher's eyes drifted to her and she sat under them like a deer caught in headlights.
"N-No, sir," Jim said. "It… It was all my idea."
Mr. Strickler looked at him, then looked back at her. "Claire, your input?"
She fidgeted for a brief second, collecting her thoughts and weighing her options. Either she could confess, or she could go along with Jim's story. Both were horrible, but at least with one, she might get Jim out of too much trouble.
Unfortunately, before she could even open her mouth, Jim's mom perked up and snapped her head at her. "Claire? This is Claire?"
Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Jim tensing up.
"Yes," Mr. Strickler said, "this is Claire Nuñez."
Those blue eyes of Jim's mom studied her for a moment, taking in everything about her. They darted all over her seated figure and then narrowed.
A disgusted sound rolled out of her mouth and she looked at Jim. "Really, Jim?"
"Wh-What?"
His mom jabbed a finger at him. "Don't play dumb with me, young man!"
"Mom, I swear to you, all of this was my-"
"It was me!" she blurted out then. "I- I asked Jim to help me sneak into the exhibit." She looked down and away from their eyes. "I just wanted to see what it was… so I convinced him to help me."
It remained silent after she gave her confession. No one so much as moved a muscle for a good couple minutes. The only thing she could hear was hers and Jim's bated breaths.
Finally, though, Jim's mom spoke up, "Mr. Strickler?"
"Yes, Barbara?"
"Is everything already settled with the police?"
"Almost," he answered. "We've already given them firsthand accounts, but they'll need to speak with you-"
"Alright." She straightened her scrubs and turned towards the two police officers nearby. "Jim, go wait in the car."
Jim looked at her. "W-Wait, but-"
She whirled around like one of the training dummies in the Hero's Forge, showing no mercy as she jabbed a finger in her son's chest. "If I so much as hear another 'but' from you, then I will ground you until you are thirty, do you understand me, mister?"
The tension in the air was thick. Claire could almost feel it suffocating her lungs.
A few seconds passed before Jim finally conceded, bowing his head in defeat. Then, with a grunt, he stood up, his mom watching his every action like a hawk the entire time.
Without warning, though, she snapped her head at her.
"And you," she said, pointing an accusing finger, "stay away from my son."
With that, she pointed at the entrance and Jim obediently walked away, throwing a single look over his shoulder at her. She couldn't bear to meet it, however, and kept her eyes on the ground as the tears welled up in her eyes.
What had she done?
If you were wondering, the tragic ending was planned all along.
The original idea, though, was to get everyone in trouble; i.e. Darci, Mary, and Toby along with Claire and Jim.
However, as I wrote the chapter, I just kept rolling with Jlaire scenes and just made this chapter Jlaire-centric, with the tragic separation by the parents.
I mean, who can blame them?
Barbara hears her son broke the law, picks him up, and finds out it's because his crush convinced him too.
That's like, ringing a lot of alarm bells.
Anyways, as for the other consequences of this... well, you'll see in the next chapter.
We're gearing up for the Claire vs. Draal rematch. At the same time, getting caught breaking the law is not going to go well with Claire and her parents.
Also, Mr. Strickler's pen is still at large and you guys will get a glimpse at how things are on the other side of the playing field with Bular and the changelings.
Favorite and Follow if you want to keep up with the story, and leave a Review if you'd like to share some nice words, ideas, or constructive criticism.
Sincerely,
Apex Primus
