Page 15 of The Order

“Blackburn!” Josh begins, slamming his hand hard on my desk to stop my focus. Rae slides into the seat beside me, eyeing the man with disgust. He lingers in my area, waiting to find my next button to push.

“There is no scenario in which I want you anywhere near me,” I hiss, shoving away his hand’s hold on my desk.

He isn't focused on the crude gesture. Instead, he stares down Fallan, who could care less about his presence as he continues his gentle brush strokes.

“Whatcha painting there, pig?” Josh questions, kicking his leg forward to jolt Fallan’s desk.

“Josh, don’t antagonize,” Mrs. Auburn warns, removing her focus from her neat handwriting on the board outlining today's lesson.

“You should listen. Enough slip-ups, and you'll be working grunt Untouchable jobs after your Judgement Day,” I warn, narrowing my eyes at him. He swipes my paint cup from my desk, shoving me back into my seat when I try to reach after it. Fallan looks up, acknowledging the man's harsh hold on my shoulder.

“Yeah? And where do you think they'll place you? Last time I checked, you’re living in your brother's shadow,” Josh seethes.

There is no time for anyone to react. Josh drops the cup on Fallan’s desk, snickering as the wet mirage of colored water explores his canvas and front. I grab Josh, pulling him away from Fallan’s area. Raegan scolds the man, swatting his arm for making a mess. Fallan tears away the tuck of his shirt, trying to stop the water from soaking all the way through. A sliver of his back shows. It's hard to stop myself from covering my mouth at the sight of the several white scars working over the surface of most of his skin. I am not the only one who notices. A few students gasp as their silent whispers fill the room. Mrs. Auburn begins to scold Josh while silencing the multiple spouts of laughter muffled behind people's hands. I can't bring myself to laugh at the sight.

Fallan ignores the laughter, turning toward the class with lowered eyes. His shirt is covered in a splotch that will only add to him receiving grief for the rest of the day. My face is as stoic as his. His eyes pass over my own before taking a seat once more. Mrs. Auburn motions Josh away, allowing him to drag a chair away from the front and next to me.

“You should learn when to piss off,” Raegan says, hitting Josh's arm in a way I know he took as playful banter.

He smiles at the blonde, letting his eyes linger on her too long. He looks proud of his actions, like there is no consequence for the damage he inflicts on any Unfortunate.

“Are you mad that I embarrassed your boyfriend, Blackburn?” Josh questions. His lips hover over my ear as he begins his taunt. Raegan tries her best to eye down Mrs. Auburn. The woman is so involved in her lecture that there is no use in trying to get her to pause.

“Give me one good reason not to slam your head into this desk,” I whisper back. He plants his hand on the back of my neck, forcing my focus onto him.

“You don't want to start making big threats like that, Forest. You’re already on thin ice with me,” he whispers.

“Because you did nothing wrong? You’re a saint in all of this?”

“It’sanUnfortunate. Of course I did nothing wrong.”

Does that stop them from being people?

This kind of poisonous thinking has landed me in this position before. They hate us and we hate them. But his scars, all of those scars. How can someone only in his 5th year have so many wounds? They all laughed as if one of us couldn't have any.

My fingers linger above the material where my birthmark resides.

Are imperfections truly that uncommon?

I pull my attention back to my painting, ignoring the growing pit forming in my stomach. Raegan silently works on her painting, doing her best to create perfectly straight lines in the image she’s creating. I avoid turning around to watch Fallan's gentle strokes. Josh watches me, too enthralled with my work to get started on his own. The silent whispers from girls a few seats over break through the air. They cover their mouths, but I catch stolen words like “Shifter” and “military” as they continue to gossip.

Foreign Entities, otherwise known as Shifters, are genetically mutated individuals scorched by the nuclear fallout after the wars. While some humans adapted genetically to the changes in their environment, like our ancestors, others changed for the worse. People's minds were no longer their own. Human's feral instincts came into play as their bodies began to mutate, shifting from something human to something animalistic. They are one of the main reasons we still have the ward. To keep them out. New Haven’s military occasionally goes beyond the ward to flush out any that have gotten too close to our borders. I’ve heard the horror stories of some soldiers never returning home in one piece.

“My uncle went beyond the ward once and said he saw one. It took him and three of his men to take it down,” Josh exclaims, interrupting the girl's once-quiet conversation. Even Mrs. Auburn has paused her lecture to listen in on the conversation about an entity we know so little about.

A hand flies up in my periphery, causing everyone's eyes to shift to the back of the classroom. Fallan’s hand is held high, his back leaned into the chair in the most relaxed position possible. He looks to Mrs. Auburn, patiently awaiting her permission to speak.

“Go on, Mr. Markswood.”

“You said uncle, so I assume he’s an Untouchable like you. Respectfully, the only people tasked with dealing with Shifters are Unfortunate military ranks. An Untouchable has never had to go beyond the ward to fight a Shifter. It would seem your uncle has told you a lie,” Fallan says with a large grin.

The room is dead silent at the Unfortunate’s sarcastic taunt. Josh looks livid, clenching his palms in a sorry attempt to control his anger.

“That's enough from you today,” Mrs. Auburn mutters, sensing an escalated situation.

Josh readies himself to move. With a shove of my desk, I force my hand on his leg, letting Fallan’s smirk grow at his pleasure in the anger he has created.

“I should kill you for that,” Josh spits, swatting away my hand, forcing himself to turn back to the front.

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