Eva hopped over the waist-high old-fashioned iron fence and walked to the back door. A peek through the back door window showed an empty dining room. Eva took a quick glance around before stepping into the house. Sounds of laughter and the pungent scent of drugs assaulted her senses the moment she appeared within the house.
Stifling a cough, Eva made her way to the office and quietly shut the door. Eva slunk down in the corner after turning a fan on and opening the window. Her bed had been removed from this room almost a year ago, but she had no desire to sit in her father’s computer chair.
Laughter and discussion continued for nearly three hours. Eva sat the entire time in the darkness of the office with only the buzz of the fan to help drown out the sounds of the house. She tried to meditate, but uproarious laughter would interrupt the moment she felt at peace.
Memories surfaced instead. Constant fighting between her parents. Shouts and violence. Occasionally it would be directed at her. Eva shuddered as darker memories surfaced. Not her. That little girl was dead.
The front door slamming shut woke her from her thoughts. The group noise had ceased and footsteps could be heard moving towards the bedroom. As the footsteps moved past, Eva rapped her knuckles on the wall. The footsteps paused, then moved back towards the office.
The door opened just a crack at first, letting a small amount of light fall just to the side of Eva. He opened the door wider, reveling the mangy form of Edgar Spencer.
“Hmph,” her father grunted. “I figured I’d be seeing you soon.” He stepped into the office, bringing with him the thick smell of whatever drugs he fancied these days. “I’ve warned you not to draw attention to me. You’re lucky they weren’t cops. Or child services. If I ever–”
“Spare me, daddy.” Eva waved her hand in front of her nose, not that it helped. “Just tell me what they wanted and we can go back to pretending neither of us exist.”
He took a threatening step forwards, but Eva didn’t budge. “I didn’t raise you to be–”
“You’re right, daddy, you didn’t raise me.” Eva stood, causing her father to flinch back. “What did they want?”
He eyed his daughter. His upper lip twitched the way it always did when he got mad. Yet there was no cowering daughter before him. Not this time. Just a young woman glaring back.
Eventually he sighed. “They came by yesterday to invite you to one of them magic academies. Once I realized they weren’t after me, I told them that you still went to Auvlub Junior and that I hadn’t seen you since your parent-teacher conference in January.”
Eva scoffed at that. When her father didn’t continue, Eva said, “that’s it? No messages in case I should show up?”
Edgar Spencer shook his head. Shavings of dander fluttered to his shoulders from his long, dark hair. Eva had to force herself not to take a step backwards.
“Well, I’ll get out of your hair then. I hope to not see you soon.” Eva turned to the open window, but a clearing of a throat gave her pause.
“Are you planning on going?”
Eva considered for a moment. “Don’t know. I’ve other people to talk to first. Not sure why it would matter to you in either case.”
Without another word she stepped through the window, heading to her home.
—
“Aww, did poor little Evaleen lose her cat.”
Eva repressed a flinch. “The name is Eva,” she said through grit teeth. She turned away from the school bulletin board where the final missing owner poster hung. “What do you want, Todd?”
Todd Farkas grinned, showing off a set of shiny braces. His baggy shorts were belted half way down his thighs. A shirt clearly designed with someone of considerably more size and girth covered most of the area left bare by his shorts.
Eva couldn’t help but to shake her head. It would be pitiful if he dressed the way he did because of hand-me-downs, but his mother gave her children the initiative to dress themselves. A poor decision when they had the fashion sense of a troglodyte.
Michael Porter, a boy of similarly deficient dress habits, stood just to Todd’s left. His interest seemed to be solely on a portable game system. Minus the occasional flick of his eyes to Eva, a light blush, and back to his game.
“What I want, Evey, is to just say hi. We’ve only got, what, three days of eighth grade left?” He glanced over his shoulder to a shrugging Michael. “Something like that. It would be a shame not to see my bestest buddy.”
“And just think, two of them are half days. Then I never have to see you again. There aren’t even tests scheduled for Friday. I might just skip.”
“Never again?” Michael said as he looked up from his game. He cleared his throat and turned his head back to his game, but his eyes were all but glued to Eva.
Eva just rolled her eyes.
Todd, if he was surprised, kept it off his face. “Not going to North High?”
