Labelled by Blood

      I left the scene. When I came back to the school, the roadblock was patched away. All that remained were the cones and tape. I walked around to the front of the school. I hid under the veranda that covered the entire front of the school. I checked my phone. I had a couple of missed calls. A few texts. One from Parker, several from Jesse. Both wanted answers to where I was. Both were worried. Jesse called twice.       I felt empty. Freaked out. Not normal. I was the problem. No matter how I saw it. No matter how anyone saw it. I hit the "call back" button. Then I sprinted off school grounds towards home.       Jesse picked up instantly. I didn't know when I started, but I was a sobbing mess of gibberish and mucus. Jesse tried to calm me down. Ask where I was. I told him I was going home.       "We'll be right there," was all he said before hanging up.       I got home breathless but not any less worried and scared. My body trembled, breathing was hard, and I couldn't stop shaking my head. My parent's weren't home, yet. They would be in a few hours. I let myself in and sat leaning against the font door. The fight replayed itself in my mind.       We didn't kill anyone. Not today. Not tomorrow. We were physically okay.       My breathing remained okay enough, but my heart tossed and turned. My stomach fought between sending an acidic waterfall and wanting to eat. Neither sounded fun for me.       What even happened? Why?       Was I really a parasite? A thing? No. Nothing.       No.       A weirdo. A loser. Not a boy. Or a girl. Not a human. Not Alex Linnet. Just a weird culmination of emotions and a perfected egg-shell dance. This was hell.       My spiral was grounded in reality when my doorbell rang. I jumped and yelped. Jesse chuckled on the other side. I stood up and a wave of vertigo made me gag. The door opened. Jesse and Parker were there. Jesse's dumb smile got knocked away fast and he pulled me into a hug. Parker joined.       I told them everything. Between fits of sobbing and hyperventilating. Jessed shushed me after. Parker got me a glass of water. I needed both. I gulped down the water and it really made me slow down. My brain had to fight off the panic of not drowning, and it helped me refocus.       "Who's the boy?" Parker asked. There was no sense of warmth in his voice.       "I don't know," I said.       "It was someone on the football team. Tell me how he looks," Jesse said.       I nodded and described him. The glasses. The moppy hair. The towering figure. They nodded and Jesse seemed to have pinpointed my assaulter immediately.       "Jesus," he said solemnly. "He really said all those things to you?"       My bottom lip trembled into a pout. Jesse hugged and shushed me some more.       "He won't be a problem anymore," Jesse said.       "I'll make sure of that myself," Parker added. "How the hell are you going to say that about one of the sweetest people at this damn school?"       I sighed. We talked and unpacked everything. I mentioned the Collector, which got some intense questioning. I wasn't up to answering. I wanted my own answers, but I knew I wouldn't get them.       Jesse did tell me about Jesus, though. He said Jesus was always cheering for him, even for the smallest things. It was a running gag on the team that Jesse was a "doughnut with all that glaze." Whatever that meant. It made me uncomfortable to hear.       But Jesse said Jesus always struck him the wrong way, but he was their top linebacker. Coach loved him, but had to tell him multiple times to "calm down on the compliments." Jesse shrank after recalling all of that.       It reframed everything for him. And for me. How many other people who gave me a death glare were just like Jesus? How many others were looking for the perfect opportunity to just end me? I only escaped because he was being stupid. It was all luck.       Jesse and Parker reassured me that not killing was the best choice I could've made. I knew it was, but a part of me wished I had pulled the trigger. Jesus wouldn't have hesitated. Why did I?       "It's what makes you human," Jesse said.       "It sure as hell makes you better than that sack of--" Parker held his tongue, but I could see a fire in his eyes.       They both told me to go shower. I sneezed and they took it that I was sick, suddenly. So I went and showered. The hot water did wonders to calming me, but I felt meek. Like a disgusting worm in a world designed to crush me. Somehow I fought back. But how much longer until I just one day couldn't? Whatever, I had enough. I got out and dried off. I put on some pajamas and headed back to them. They were talking about the Collector when I reached them, and they didn't stop when I got there.       "That thing is fast," Jesse growled. "I don't think we can win head-on."       Parker nodded, thoughtful and slow. "Yeah. Do you think it wants us dead?"       Jesse shrugged, "it fixed Alex up. Even their clothes."       Parker nodded again. I butted in. "Can we not talk about any of this right now?" The boys hummed in resignation. Jesse asked what I wanted to do. Hell if I knew. "I want to just take my mind off things."       "Y'know, some sparring matches might help," Parker chuckled, but Jesse raised an eyebrow in agreement.       "But it's raining," I said.       "So?" Parker asked. "What's that going to do us but make things more interesting?"       "Right," Jesse chimed in, "c'mon, Alex. It'll be fun. You have rainboots, I've seen them."       I mulled it over in my head. He was right. Fine. I nodded. "Right. I'll be back."       I went to my room and immediately saw my bouquet wilting more than before. Was it the rain? Did they also feel the dread lingering over us? My morning glories were pale and looked almost lifeless. I ignored it and headed to my closet and pulled out my tall rainboots. They were black with blue stars printed on. I grabbed my raincoat, too. Same design. They made me feel protected and kind of cool, even if I knew I wasn't. I slipped them on and looked at myself in my mirror. I smiled and it felt off. Like the person in front of me wanted, so badly, to believe they were happy.       Shaking off the bad feelings, I got back to Jesse and Parker. They had grabbed their things and lingered by the door. When they saw me, Jesse gave me the gentlest smile and it made me blush. Parker gave me a thumbs up.       "There's my Alex," Jesse almost hummed.       "Right," I said, hiding behind the oversized hood.       Parker led the way, Jesse hung back a few steps with me. He locked his arm around mine and we walked. The rain continued to patter, but it was lighter than before. And my jacket swished. Our footsteps splashed. Water rippled in any direction, the reflections were never still, never perfect. But that made them more beautiful.       Despite the reeling and whiplash of emotions I was feeling, I felt an odd sense confidence blooming in me. I won a fight. Sure, it wasn't easy and had to do more with luck than anything, but the feeling of the fact that I pulled through was slowly sounding more and more impressive.       "Jess?" I asked, slowing down to get a bit more distance from Parker.       "Hm?"       "Are you," I tried to find the right words and stumbled. "I mean. You know. Are you. Proud?"       He pulled me close and unhooked his arm from mine to wrap it around me, instead. "Alex. I don't think I've ever not been proud."       This got something out of me. Tears. My vision blurred and my nose ran. Jesse didn't say anything. I didn't either. Parker was on his phone and wasn't looking up.       "Are you surprised?" I finally mustered the courage to ask.       "About?"       "God dammit, Jesse. You know what about."       He laughed. This got Parker's face darting over like a dog who heard a squirrel. "A little."       "Right." I furrowed my brows. What did that mean?       We made it to the edge of town. The rain had turned into a drizzle and was slowly passing. We wouldn't get sun today, but at least we wouldn't have to worry about the rain the whole time. Walking through the exit, I realized school still wasn't over. Jesse was going to get an earful about it from his parents. I didn't actually know Parker's situation. But it seemed healthy enough.       The bridge was slick and glossy from the rain. The river had picked up in its current and it was a little off seeing it so powerful compared to usual. When we got to the dirt road, it was a pretty muddy mess. We waded through marshy grass, instead. By this point, the rain stopped, but the winds picked up. Parker spoke up about what we needed to do today. He went over what drills he wanted us to cover, who would fight against who first, and just a lot more.       Jesse said he wanted to help me master my close quarters. Parker offered to give me one of his many pocket knives. I almost took a really cool blue and black one. It matched my stapler. But I didn't want to carry something like that on me when I already had something dangerous and inconspicuous. I had to do a double take when Parker so casually pulled out a handful of knives from his backpack.       "You know that's a crime, right?" Jesse asked him.       He just shrugged. "Haven't been caught, yet."       This got us into a roaring laughter and made me feel both more and less safe around him. He just carried those with him at all times? Why so many? If he ever got caught.       "Surprises me none," Jesse said, shaking his head. "You already got a fiery mace. What do you need those for?"       Parker got quiet. I expected a laugh and another joke. Maybe some weird and out of pocket remark. Jesse noticed but didn't say anything. I followed his lead. When we reached our clearing, Parker shifted gears and was hard-set on not wasting any time. Jesse led the call out drills, and we were practicing hand motions. Because Parker and Jesse were melee, they couldn't use them as well as I could, so we stuck to them using them when needing me, specifically, to do something. We even instilled a chain-of-command. Jesse's orders were top. Parker's were after if Jesse didn't issue an order before he did. Of course, they stressed I could always do what felt best. And I was starting to think that, just maybe, I could make a right call.       After call outs, we moved on to basic vestige trainings. Parker was practicing a new swing technique he saw online. Jesse was just trying to tighten his angles and reaction speed by dashing through the trees. I made it a challenge to label a few different trees with a number. Jesse or Parker would call out a number and I had a few seconds to locate and shoot it. Not hard, but more just refining my reaction speeds, too.       After we ran out of fuel, we set our strims in my rustic box and found some good trees to lean on. We had a quick talk on what came next. Parker made it very clear: he would go up against Jesse, first. Then it would be me against him. Finally, me versus Jesse. No actual hits, first one to get a feint wins, and it was first to two. The odd one out was to take notes in a journal Parker brought along with him. It was leather bound with a polished and soft brown cover.       Vestiges were charged. We pushed off the tree.       "Alright. Lex, you take notes. Jess, let's go."