Mandated Reporter

(Sunday Afternoon, August 25th)

"Rent is five hundred and fifty dollars," the black-haired girl informs. "That's two hundred and seventy-five for each of us. There's only one bedroom, but I have a few privacy screens set up. Oh, and there's a setup in the kitchen. Half of the cupboards are yours, and anything in the fridge needs a name and date. This way there's no excuses for stealing each other's food without permission."

Beth smiles. "I was worried about that. Thank you."

"My old roommate is already gone, so you can move in whenever you want."

Beth breathes. "I feel like I really lucked out."

"Me too," she agrees. "Most people hate my rules, but they're only there to keep us from fighting. I'm glad you understand."

She meets her green eyes. "Just do me a favor?"

"What's that?"

Beth unsurely says, "Can I decide when my food gets thrown out of the fridge? The way I cook things, it might look like it's gone bad when it's not."

She smiles. "If something smells or looks funny, I'll just bring it to your attention."

"Thank you." Beth contemplates. "I think I'll move in tomorrow. Is there a key?"

"Oh, yeah." She hands it to her. "Here." Beth examines the old-fashioned key. It's not as old as the large key for the front castle door, but it's not a fob that newer places have either. "Do you have a car? If you do, you need to tell management so that it won't get towed."

Beth purses her lips. "I'm still working on it. It feels like as soon as I get any amount of money, it disappears."

"Well, hopefully having a roommate will help with that."

Beth faces her. "I have all the money in the world tied up in frozen accounts, which I may only access if I become someone I don't want to be, apologize to someone who's hurt me, and agree to things I don't believe in. Am I foolish for wanting to make a new life on my terms?" Her eyes shift. "Am I selfish for denying that money when so many people have so little?"

The girl frowns. "No one should ever have to apologize to the people who've hurt them."


"Hey," Jane announces her presence, and Carlos glances over his shoulder before returning his attention to crushing the seeds. "I'm supposed to tell you it's curfew."

"And I'm going to need to tell you to leave."

"What are you doing?" She moves next to him, and he blocks her with an arm before pushing her back.

"I can't tell you that."

"You can't tell me?"

"You're a hall monitor. That makes you a mandated reporter." She moves forward again, and he turns towards her. "I said stay away!"

"Carlos," she cautions. "What are you doing?"

He scratches his forehead. "Making poison. Okay? And there isn't a cure, so I need you to stop hanging over my shoulder and breathing it in.

"Poison?" she sadly says. "Why are you making poison?"

"Someone paid me very well," Carlos confesses. "I don't know what it's for."

"You're making poison," she disbelieves, "and you didn't ask what for?"

"I trust them."

"Trust them?" she repeats. "Who is it? Mal?"

"Mal's a dragon," he reminds her. "She makes her own poison."

"Not Jay?" she guesses.

"Of course, not."

"I don't see Evie needing your help," Jane inputs.

"She wouldn't," Carlos confirms.

She shakes her head. "And Ben's missing… Who is it? Aziz?"

Carlos rolls his eyes. "You really need to stop guessing."

"Why? The only other person you know is Lonnie." He doesn't speak. "It's Lonnie, isn't it? She asked for it."

"That's confidential."

"Last I checked," Jane dismisses, "Lonnie's not in the army, yet. She's not special ops. What you're doing is illegal."

"Yeah." Carlos evenly says, "That's probably why I'm getting paid so well."

"No amount of money is worth this."

"I'm making more now than I did for a week as Chad's personal slut," Carlos angers, before his expression fades and his eyes lower.

"Carlos?" Jane inquires. He takes his gloves off and then rubs his eyes, a catch in his throat. She steps towards him. "Hey."

He sniffles. "I know it's stupid to think we were friends, but I thought he respected me."

She reaches out but then freezes before touching his shoulder, slowly retracting it. "Are you talking to anyone about this?"

"Why would I want to?"

"He hurt you."

"Chad didn't hurt me." Carlos's jaw drops. "He raped me. He made me think we had a trust-worthy relationship and then lured me into an empty bathroom. School wasn't even in session. He tricked me, turned me into a fool. Why would I want to talk about that?"

Jane frowns. "So, you don't feel alone?"

"I don't feel alone." Carlos whispers, "I feel violated. On the Isle, rape doesn't even exist. Sex is just a day-to-day activity. You know what we don't have on the Isle? Trust. Relationships. I don't care that he took my body. I care that he took my mind. Everything I thought we were, he disproved it, and now I have to walk around wondering what else I was wrong about."

"Carlos."

"You," he shakily breathes. "How am I supposed to know you like me? Maybe you're a spy for the newspaper, and this is just some story to you."

"Carlos." She takes his hands in hers. "Whatever your doubts are, don't doubt me. Please. You need someone you can trust. All I want is to help you."

He steadies himself. "Okay. You want to help?"

"Yes." She hopefully smiles.

"Then leave me alone and let me make my poison." She lets go of him. "I need the distraction, and the sooner I finish it, the sooner I can get it out of here." She fails to speak, and he returns to his project.

"Clean up when you're done. I don't want any students getting hurt."

"Don't worry." He reassures, "It's completely under my control." He turns back to the table and listens as she leaves the kitchen, and once she's gone, he releases his breath. He's a mess. He can't work with poison like this. He takes his phone from his pocket. Maybe Evie can help him. There's a missed call from an unknown number, and he enters the voicemail.

His heart pounds. "This is Auradon City Clinic with a message for Carlos De Vil. Your test results have come in. Please, call us back at 287- 248- 256 extension 8378 to schedule a follow-up appointment." Carlos deletes the call, and his breathing picks up.

His stomach growls, and he texts Evie. In kitchen. Up for making me some cookies?

Evie: Coming down.

Carlos takes a deep breath, puts a new set of gloves on, and lowers his head to the seeds. He crushes them, scrapes the powder into the plastic-lined container, and takes a lighter to the next batch of seeds. The finer he can get the powder, the less detectable it will be. "Hey."

He glances over his shoulder and sees Evie's smile. "Hey."

"You look like a mess."

"Completely exhausted," he agrees. "I need brain food."

She walks over to the pantry. "What kind of cookies do you want?"

"I've been craving the ones you make for Ben."

"Got it." She turns towards him and then halts. "You're making ricin."

"Don't worry." He reassures, "I'm being careful."

"Careful?" She raises an eyebrow. "You're not even wearing a cloth mask."

"Evie," he stresses, widening his eyes at her. "I really need those cookies."

"Alright." She sets the ingredients down. "Just don't eat them while you're working."

"Don't plan on it."

She strides over to the carnivore's fridge and opens the door. "Oh, no."

Carlos frowns. "What is it?" She opens the fridge wider, and nothing's in it. "No way." He jumps from his bar stool and races over. "The school opens this week. Why isn't it stocked?"

"I mean." Evie grabs the red plastic container. "There's lunchmeat."

"That's not meat," Carlos seethes. "After the summer I had, I don't even want to look at that trash." He shakes his head. "I'd rather be eating the butcher's trash."

"Carlos," she sadly says. "I don't know what to say. There's no blood for the cookies."

He eyes up. "Check the freezer."

She opens it, placing some steak and hamburger into the fridge. "No. It's not here." He stares at the wall behind her. "Carlos?"

She reaches for his shoulder, and he backs away. "Don't touch me."

"Carlos," she says again.

"I'm covered in poison," he reminds her before taking a deep breath. "Dark chocolate. Could you replace the blood with dark chocolate?"

"I can try."

He feels the tears sting his eyes, takes off his gloves, and tosses them into the trash before washing his hands. "Out of all the stuff that could go wrong today." The water streams down his cheeks. "Why am I so fucking hungry?" He rummages through the cabinets. "It's not like I didn't eat today."

"What are you looking for?"

Carlos stands on the chair. "Chocolate?" Some chocolate shelled marshmallow donuts would be nice right now. "Why isn't there anything fatty here?"

"There's avocado." Carlos glares at her, and she hurries. "Sorry. I wasn't thinking." He climbs back down to the floor and strides to the door. "Where are you going?"

"Hell."

"Good luck," Evie calls after him, and he heads into the dimly lit halls.


When he reaches the vending machines inside the dining hall, he stares at the frozen desserts. There's chocolate and fat, but it's not warm. In the hot vending machine, he notes the lack of meat. He crouches down and sits against the wall. Nothing looks good. He folds his arms over his knees and rests his forehead on them. He's never been this hungry, even on the Isle. He might even be hungrier than he was in Agrabah. The phone light moves over him, and he sniffles as he sees the professor. "Carlos." Hawthorne kneels next to him. "Are you okay?"

"No." He wipes the tears from his face. "I can't find anything good to eat."

He glances over the full machines before facing Carlos. "Well, what do you fancy?"

"I don't know," he murmurs. "I just really wanted Evie's cookies, but she puts blood in it and the carnivore's fridge is empty."

"And blood's the only ingredient you're missing?"

"Pretty much." He half laughs, "Yeah."

"Come on." He stands up, and Carlos follows him down the hall. Hawthorne opens the nurses' office, and Carlos hesitates to step inside. "There should be blood in the next room." He types something on the computer and then uses his keycard to open the next door. Carlos steps behind him, and Professor Hawthorne opens the chest freezer.

"That's human blood."

"Not as much as I expected." He takes one of the ten blood bags. "The hospital donates the ones close to expiration. If a carnivore is extra hungry, anxious, or predatory, we offer it."

"I'm not a carnivore," Carlos denies.

"Yes, well." Hawthorne closes the freezer. "You don't need to be a carnivore to have a taste for blood." He hands the bag to him. "Either use the blood for the cookies or put it in the carnivore's fridge. The choice is yours, but this stays our little secret."

Carlos nods. "Thank you."


When Carlos returns to the kitchen, he sees Evie taking the cookies from the oven. "Perfect timing. I highly recommend you let them cool for a couple minutes, but you're just in time to try them."

Carlos walks over to the island counters. "Where's my poison?"

"Oh." She turns around. "I finished that for you. It's in the container."

"You didn't have to do that."

"You're in no condition to be working with poison right now," she opinionates. "With Mal in the clinic and Ben on the run, I really don't need you to die right now."

"Thank you," he whispers.

She peers at him. "What's behind your back?"

Carlos reveals the blood bag and rubs his neck. "A teacher gave it to me. He said we should make the cookies and put them in the fridge."

Evie frowns. "Did you want any of the blood cookies?"

"With human blood?" Carlos's face scrunches. "I'm not a carnivore."

"No. Of course, not." She takes it from him. "You can have the first batch, then."

"Evie." Her dark brown eyes meet him. "What do you see—I mean, really see—when you look at me."

She tries to smile. "You have a family here who loves you for who you are."

"You mean, you?" Her eyes shift, and he says, "I'm asking what you sense about me. What do you know that I don't?"

"You belong here. You're pure and good, Carlos. A disease doesn't change that."

He stares at her. "Disease?"

"Oh. You know," she bides time. "Just how desperate you get for food."

"Desperate?"

She sighs. "Carlos. You're a good person, and nothing could ever change that. What more do you want me to say?"

"I want you to say what disease you think I have," he asserts.

She frowns. "You're a scavenger."

He shakes his head. "I thought that was a good thing. How's it a disease?"

"A constant hunger that's only satisfied by continuous snacking?" she sums. "That's not normal, Carlos, and, honestly, the lengths you're willing to go to get food scares me sometimes. As much as I love you, you have to know something's wrong."

"No." Carlos walks over to the first batch of cookies. "Because scavengers are willing to eat anything." He picks one up and bites into it.

"How is it?"

It's not salty enough. It needs blood. He strains a smile. "Amazing as always, Evie."


The next day, Fairy Godmother hears the knock on the door, and she calls, "Come in."

Professor Hawthorne steps inside. "Good Morning, Headmistress."

"If you're here to defend your actions—"

"Not at all," he answers. "I would just like you to know that a student informed me last night that the carnivore's fridge still isn't stocked with blood."

"Last night?" she questions.

"While I was patrolling the school," he explains.

"And the student?"

"Carlos De Vil," he answers. "I saw him next to the vending machines. He looked like he was in a lot of pain."

She nods. "Thank you for informing me on this matter." Hawthorne bows his head before turning around. "Professor Hawthorne." He twists back to her. "Given recent events, I'm going to have to disband you from nighttime patrol."

He falters. "But then who would replace me?"

"I'll find someone." He pierces his eyes at her. "You disagree with my decision?"

"The carnivores at this school trust me," he informs. "I know who they are, I let them go to the kitchen for their midnight meals, and I make sure the humans aren't around to force them out of hiding. I'm valuable—irreplaceable even—in that regard."

Fairy Godmother nods. "Alright. I'll find someone for you to train. They will be by your side during patrol, and you will not be allowed to patrol without them by your side."

He bows again. "Thank you, Headmistress."

"Go on, now," she commands. "You have a speech to prepare."

"Yes, Headmistress."

After he leaves, Fairy Godmother picks up the landline. "Yes, Jane. Could you grab Carlos for me. I need to have a nice, little discussion with him in my office."

She questions, "Is he in trouble?"

"Oh, no," Fairy Godmother reassures. "But it is quite urgent. Bring him straight here, please. Thank you."


When Carlos enters the office, Fairy Godmother gestures to the seat across from her. "Sit down, please."

Carlos cautiously takes the chair. "What's this about?"

"I heard you saw Professor Hawthorne in the halls last night. Tell me about it."

"I'm confused." Carlos asks, "Is this about curfew?"

"No." She smiles. "Of course, not. I'd just like you to tell me what transpired when the professor found you."

Carlos's eyes shift. "I'm still confused."

"He said you told him the carnivore fridge was empty," she starts. "Can you fill in the rest of the conversation to me?"

Carlos frowns. "I don't remember a lot. I've been having a hard time feeling full since I got back, like harder than normal. He found me by the vending machines."

"And then?" she prompts.

"I told him I was trying to get Evie to make the cookies she makes for Ben, but the blood was missing from the fridge." He meets her eyes. "I'm not a carnivore. Sometimes I just get cravings. Um." He shakes his head. "Sorry. Is that why I'm here?"

"That will need to get discussed," she confirms, "but no."

"Then what?"

"Let me be blunt." She faces him. "And this is fairly confidential information, but a student has complained about Professor Hawthorne overstepping the line of teaching and inserting himself in personal matters. I just need to know how your experience compares."

"He was nice." Carlos's eyes lower. "I felt like I was losing my mind. Even Evie was starting to get scared of me, but he wasn't. He stayed. He wanted to help."

"So, he didn't say or do anything that felt wrong to you?"

"Well." He hesitates, "He said to keep it our secret."

"Oh?" She clasps her hands on the desk. "And what's that?"

"He… I don't know if he broke in." Carlos contemplates. "He brought me to the nurse's office and took a blood bag from the freezer."

"In the other room?" Carlos nods. "I wasn't notified."

"He did something to the computer." Carlos continues, "He said it didn't matter if I was a carnivore or not so long as it helped."

"Did you drink it?"

"No." He shakes his head. "Evie turned it into cookies and then put it in the carnivore's fridge. Even though I wanted the cookies, I'm not going to eat something with human blood."

"If you're certain you're not a carnivore, does that mean you got the results back?"

He whispers, "No. I don't know what the results were."

"And how are you feeling?"

"Like I'm still losing my mind?" He partly smiles. "I'm a wreck. I can't get full. Nothing looks good, and everything smells really bad. I feel sick."

"I'll be having the carnivore's fridge stocked with blood today, so if you still have those cravings it will be available." He keeps quiet. "Is there anything else I can do to help?"

"Could you keep Jane busy today?" he questions. "I don't want her to see me like this."

She nods. "I can do that." He slowly stands. "Carlos." He turns towards her. "Do me a favor and don't tell Professor Hawthorne you told me. If he tries using that secret against you, I want you to come to me immediately. Alright?"

He eyes over her. "Yeah. Okay."


"Beth." Noah walks over to her and glances over the cardboard on the flatbed cart. "Done with boxes?"

"Almost."

"Good. I'll clean up." He nods to the mall hall. "Come on." Beth follows him out of the store, and he explains, "We're advertising our autumn protein shakes. We have our, uh…" He grins at her. "Well, you can read the French on the back." A girl with long, black hair turns towards us. "Beth. This is Carmon. You'll be working with her today." He faces Carmon. "This is Beth. She doesn't speak English. You answer the customer's questions." Noah turns to Beth. "Just fill the small cups with water, add the powder, and shake it." He raises his eyebrows as he glances between them. "Good luck."

After he leaves, she sits next to Carmon. "Know French?"

"Little," she answers.

Beth examines the back of the three seasonal powders. There's maple and cinnamon, smoked hickory, and pumpkin pie. "Breakfast, dinner, and dessert." Cameron hums, and she points to each powder as she reiterates each meal in English. Beth takes a sample cup and pours some water and hickory powder into it. "I like bacon, personally."

Her brown eyes widen. "That's it. That's how we advertise this." She smiles. "The first ever meat flavored protein powder."

"Meat's for biting." Beth takes out a stick of gum. "You can't bite this."

"But it tastes like bacon?" she asserts.

Beth shrugs. "Close enough."

"Well, then," she prompts, "make some up. I'm going to talk it up."

"You're going to have a hard time selling that to vegetarians," a girl voices, and Beth's eyes widen as she sees Evie. "I knew I'd find you here."

Beth awkwardly smiles. "I don't know you."

"Well, then," Evie sighs, flipping her dark blue curls, "I guess you don't want these."

Beth watches her pull a large Ziplock bag of cookies from behind her back. "Are those what I think they are?"

Cameron looks at her. "I didn't think you knew English."

"She doesn't," Evie reassures. "Anyway, Carlos didn't want them, but I guess I can always see if the clinic will let Mal have them."

"But I want them," Beth pouts.

She smiles. "You'd take cookies from a witch you know nothing about?"

"I'm done playing games." Beth frowns. "Give them to me."

She hangs the cookies over her, Beth reaches for it, and Evie grins as she pulls it away. "What do you say?"

"Thank you." She hands over the cookies, and Beth takes one out of the bag before biting into it. "Wow. This is even better than I remember."

Evie leans on the table. "You love me?"

Beth smiles. "You know I do."

Cameron interrupts, "How did you say you know each other?"

"AA," Evie answers.

She raises an eyebrow. "Alcoholics anonymous?"

"Oh, no." Evie eyes up as she giggles. "Anorexics anonymous. Online. Very small."

Beth rests her head in her hand. "You're beautiful when you're lying."

"Ah." Evie twists her hair. "Thank you."

"Beth," Noah shouts from inside the store. "This isn't social hour. Finish. You can talk to your girlfriend later."

Beth's eyes widen, and Cameron asks, "What did he say?"

"That I shouldn't be talking to my girlfriend when I'm working," she slowly answers.

"He probably meant friend who is a girl," Evie comments. "Like in German."

"You two do look really close," Cameron opinionates.

Beth scratches the back of her head before facing Evie. "Talk to you later."


"Awesome sales today," Noah compliments.

Cameron smiles. "Thank you."

"Tomorrow you can sell the other two flavors too."

Her expression slips. "Right. I'll figure something out."

He turns towards Beth, taking a deep breath. "And you. You look completely tired."

"I'm always tired," Beth dismisses.

"You know you're allowed a day off, right?" he inquires.

"Not until I get my car," she declares.

His blue eyes scan her. "How are you with your health?"

Beth frowns. "I can't get my medication. I forgot how taxing it was to keep such a close eye on my temperature."

"What?" Carmon questions.

Beth turns towards her and interprets, "I lost my medicine."

"Oh." She asks, "Is it here? Do you need help finding it?"

"No. Um."

When Beth looks at Noah, he explains, "She doesn't have access to it anymore."

Carmon glances between us. "I don't understand."

"My ID isn't… real," Beth settles. "If I see a doctor, they will know."

"Oh." Cameron smiles. "That's how you knew the villain kid. You're from the Isle too."

After a moment of pause, Beth comments, "My father, uh, kidnapped my mother."

"Does that mean," she hesitates, "that he raped her?"

"Um." She wets her lips. "My mother doesn't think so. She takes his side on everything. She would die for him… I had to get out of there."

Her frown deepens. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said—"

Beth turns to Noah. "Stop leaving food around and trying to make me fat. My lack of body fat is probably the only reason my fever isn't hospitalizing me."

"Am I that clear?" he questions.

"Transparent," Beth corrects, "and, yes, you are."

"You're not fat," Noah quickly revises.

"No." Beth's eyes widen. "And I want to keep it that way."


Carlos picks the lock to the vending machine and opens the vault of chocolate treats. "What are you doing?"

He glances over his shoulder and sees Jane before he grabs the bag of chocolate covered marshmallows. "It stole my money. I'm getting my snack."

"And you're not lying?" she unsurely asks.

He shuts the front and locks it up. "Why would I lie about that?"

When he turns towards her, she answers, "Because I'm a mandated reporter."

"Right." He scratches the back of his neck. "I mean, you can check the cameras." He opens the snack and takes a handful. "But I'm not hiding anything."

"The poison's gone, right?" she concerns.

"Yeah. Don't worry about it." He moves his hand back into the bag, but it's empty. "Where'd my food go?"

Jane frowns. "You ate it."

"But I'm still hungry," Carlos whines, before he tips the bag towards his mouth and the chocolate flecks touch his lips.

"You have to wait to digest it."

"Why?" Carlos tosses the bag into the trashcan. "So that I can feel even hungrier. No." He walks past her. "I'm finding more food."


"Fairy Godmother."

"Yes, Jane?"

She steps towards her, hands clasped behind her back. "I'm worried about Carlos. I think he's sick."

She closes the folder. "How so?"

"He spent the entire day looking for food. Something has to be wrong."

"I was under the impression that Carlos was always a snacker."

"This is different," she insists. "He's so fidgety and agitated. You need to help him."


- Posted: 01/04/2021