Episode 5

Tough Love

 

Celia's room is like a snapshot frozen in time, capturing the vibrant chaos of her life. Clothes lie scattered like confetti, each piece a memory of the night before her induction ceremony that never came to pass. It's as if she left in a hurry, and any moment now, she'll burst through the door with a playful grin, ready to share her excitement of surviving the trial.

 

The desk, her fortress of knowledge, is a towering mountain of books. Ocalian history texts intermingled with Earth's – a unique landscape of exploration– are a testament to her passionate pursuits.

 

The room breathes with the essence of her—hints of her favorite perfume, Elaire, the vibrant colors she loved, and the indomitable spirit that once filled these walls. Mom and I made a pact not to disturb her belongings, letting it serve as a portal to the past. Now, the entire house echoes with the whispers of their presence, a disturbing reminder that they are both gone, not just one.

 

I'm kinda just killing time, for several reasons. One, I can't leave the house because my face still looks like a paint-by-number gone wrong. Two, I'm waiting on Cameron to respond to one of my thirty-seven texts I've sent the last few days. And three, I'm waiting for a call to tell me I was accepted to the Charter Trials. All of those have my blood pumping and anxiety at an all-time high. It's fine.

 

I sift through the papers on Celia's desk, curious what her internship had her researching as she never spoke about it except to Mom. Underneath one of the books is a black ID card, with the bold word RIVULUS typed boldly on the back side. The front features her headshot, name, title as intern, and– what the hell?

 

A white lotus symbol.

 

The same one on Theodore's card. On Iris's necklace. And my phone, which is currently vibrating in my pocket.

 

My heart sinks. This is it. This is it.

 

I find out today.

 

I don't even look at the screen, I just answer.

 

"Hello?"

 

"Cal?" The soft resonance of the female's voice washes over me. I almost forgot what Gemma sounded like.

 

"Gemma? I was not expecting to hear from you. What's going on?"

 

"Can you come to Hot Shots?" Her tone, usually lighthearted, carries a weight I can't ignore.

 

"I thought you were on Micto for your internship? When did you get back?"

 

"I go back tomorrow. I flew in for a few days."

 

I scratch my head. Her abrupt return raises so many questions. Does she know about Cameron attacking me?

 

"So, can you come?"

 

I feel a surge of worry, a knot forming in my stomach at the uncertainty of the situation. "Yeah, I'll be there soon." The decision to agree hangs in the air, accompanied by a sense of regret as I end the call. She's going to have so many questions if she doesn't already know what happened.

 

I stuff Celia's ID in my pocket and leave.

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The atmosphere is definitely off when I arrive, unlike our usual meetups here filled with laughter and gossip.

 

Pushing the door open, the familiar scents waft in, but that same, unexpected hint of citrus that doesn't belong fills my nose. My eyes scan the room, landing on Cameron and Gemma sitting directly ahead. Gemma's gaze holds a pity I'm not used to, while Cameron keeps his head down, deliberately avoiding any contact.

 

"Hi" I say timidly, cutting through the heavy tension in the air.

 

"Thanks for coming, Cal." Gemma greets me with side-hug – not even a real one– and we both sit. Cameron is still looking away. "Um," she glances at him and back at me. "Your face has looked much better."

 

I can't help but laugh. "Thank, Gem. I missed your sweet words." She shoots me a smile, a positive sign that maybe I'm chipping away at the awkwardness. "What did you want to meet for?" Even though I don't really want to know.

 

"I'm going to the bathroom." Cameron gets up abruptly and leaves the table.

 

"He's not well." She murmurs once he's out of sight.

 

"Yeah, I've gathered that much."

 

"He called me the night it happened. He was in tears, like, completely breaking down. It wasn't like him."

 

"I don't get why he did it. I mean, we got into an argument last week but it was our typical back-and-forth thing, you know? It wasn't something that should lead him to come at me like that. Something else is definitely wrong."

 

She shifts in her seat. "He told me what you guys talked about," She pauses as if contemplating whether she wants to tell me. "He's scared of losing you, Cal. None of us really expected you to actually go through with applying for the trial. Especially after,,," Her brows drop.

 

"My sister?" I interject.

 

"Yeah."

 

"I mean, I'm scared, too. But why would that drive him to do this?"

 

"He believed -- and it's not a good enough reason, mind you-- if you weren't physically capable of participating in the trial, you wouldn't go."

 

"Wait, so he was literally trying to hurt me to the point I couldn't do it? That's insane."

 

"That's Cameron." She quips immediately. But, she's spot on. That's who he is. A tough-love kind of guy, and this is a whole new level, even for him. Gemma continues, "He wants you to find your happiness, as do I. I don't necessarily agree with your reason for applying, because I think clinging to the hope that your mom is still alive is just like pouring salt on an open wound. But if that's what you want to dedicate yourself to doing, then I will support you."

 

My gaze shifts away in an attempt to evade the forming tears. I didn't realize I craved their approval, but now that I do, I'm frustrated with myself for not discussing it with them sooner.

 

Cameron returns, resuming his seat while steadfastly avoiding eye contact.

 

"You can't ignore me forever," I tease. "Remember the other day when you talked about how cool it'd be to claim you have a best friend in the Charter?"

 

Silence.

 

"I met Koba Kinkead at the ceremony. The one on the card you pulled."

 

Still, nothing. I glance at Gemma, silently pleading for assistance.

 

"Cameron, grow a pear," Gemma asserts, arms crossed with a proud sense of determination. My face registers shock, and even Cameron, who has been stoic this entire time, betrays a hint of emotion. Not exactly the support I was hoping for. "You can't keep drowning in self-pity. It sucks, but we don't get to make decisions for him."

 

Cameron exhales, finally meeting my gaze. "Look, I'm sorry," his admission seems to cost him. "It sounded great having a friend in the Charter, that part wasn't a lie. But I don't want that friend to be you. This," he gestures between us, "feels like it's going to fade away."

 

"I won't just abandon all of you."

 

"You will if you die," His words cut through the air, devoid of warmth or emotion.

 

"So, I won't." I declare, trying to infuse my words with a confidence I'm not even sure I have.

 

"Empty promises is all you can muster up, huh." Cameron taps the table incessantly, his legs bouncing, surrendering to his anxious tics.

 

The weight of this decision is intense, and I'm beginning to question whether I should even proceed at all. Realistically, what are the odds Mom is still out there? Slim, at best. And even if I do manage to survive the trials, climbing the ranks until I can travel to the same planet she disappeared on is going to take years. I can't bear the thought of putting my friends through the same anguish I endured when I lost the only two people in my family within months of each other.

 

My resolve wavers on the precipice, and as my phone begins to buzz insistently on the table, I realize I have no idea what I'll say when I answer.

 

End of Episode 5.