FAWN 🍂 6
   "Dhai! What happened to you?" that's the first question when Arlo and I enter their house.
   "Let them rest first, Felly," Lucas says to his sister, who ignores him.
   "Are you okay? Do you feel any pain?" she checks my body and looks at Arlo. "Arlo, what happened? Are you okay?"
   Lucas quickly pulls Felly away from us. "They are exhausted. Fix the room for them."
   Felly glares at Lucas, "Fix the room. I'll check on them first," she says irritably, brushing off Lucas' hold on her arm.
   "Felizitas."
   "Felly," I take a deep breath and hold her hand. "I... want to rest. Let's talk tomorrow, please." I don't want to talk about what happened yet. I'm angry that we left mum alone with Uncle Atlas. She's pregnant and I'm scared of what might happen.
   She sighs, "Okay. I'll accompany you to your room for now."
   Quietly, we follow Felly until we enter a room that seems unused. Then she looks at me, "Just tell me when you're okay with it," and she looks at Arlo. "Rest for now."
   "Thank you," I mouth and she hugs me before leaving.
   (Day 7, Wednesday)
   The next day, I don't go to school. My stomach still hurts from the punch last night. I'm scared, not for myself but for Mum, who is left with Uncle Atlas at the house.
   "Hija, leave that for now." I smile at Mr. Hoffman, Felly and Lucas' father.
   "It's embarrassing if I don't do anything." I continue washing the dishes.
   "Stop that. We need to talk." I stop at his words. I sigh and rinse the soap off my hands before following Mr. Hoffman into the dining hall.
   "Morning, hija," Mrs. Hoffman greets me.
   I smile back, "Good morning."
   "Take a seat," I quietly sit across from the couple. Arlo is still in the room, and I didn't wake him up yet. Felly is at school, while Lucas is at the zoo managing.
   "Tell us what happened last night so we can help you, okay?" Felly's parents are both lawyers. They owned a law firm, and the Hoffman family is known for being the most trusted family in the city.
   I take a deep breath and explain what happened last night, excluding the part where Arlo shot Uncle Atlas. I don't want my brother to go to jail. I need to get Mum away from Uncle Atlas, especially because she's pregnant.
   (Day 8, Thursday)
   The next day, I go to school without my uniform and head straight to the CEO's office. I explain the reason for not wearing the uniform, and he gives me one week to get a new one made, but I need money to pay for it. I don't have any money, and I don't want to ask Mr. Hoffman for it. It's already embarrassing that he let us stay at his house, and now I have to ask for money? That's a no.
   I feel my shoulders slump as I bump into Asher in the hallway. He's a STEM student, we're twins but we have had different interests and hobbies since we were kids.
   "Fawn, why didn't you go to school yesterday and why are you not in uniform today?"
   Maybe there's nothing wrong with asking my biological dad for some money. But my ego tells me not to do it. It's the first time I'm asking him for money since the divorce. There's nothing wrong with that, right? I just pass by Asher and head straight to the classroom.
   "Fawn," I'm surprised when someone suddenly hugs me. By his scent, I know it's Zev.
   "Hey! It's too early for you two to be hugging!"
   "Enough of that! I'm getting jealous! What's happening!"
   "Damn it! I'm getting all emotional! Like I want someone to hug me now!"
   I push Zev away from me, giving him a sharp look.
   "Are you okay? I went to your place yesterday, but your neighbor said you and Arlo left. Did your Uncle hurt you?" I can't speak. He looks concerned, staring into my eyes. "Fawn, are you okay?" He's about to touch me, but I step back. I am not okay.
   I sigh, feeling a lump in my throat, holding back my tears in front of him.
   "Dhai," fortunately, Felly pulls me away.
   Later, our teacher enters the classroom, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Since Zev is my seatmate, I can't avoid feeling his gaze on me.
   "Rizal, are you listening?" our teacher stops his discussion and looks seriously at Zev.
    "I'm all ears, Mr. Dumlao." he replies calmly.
   "Well, if you're really listening. Then what year did Rizal send a poem about his serene life as an exile in Dapitan to Doña Teodora? Tell me the title and recite the whole poem to the class."
   I have no idea what the answer to Mr. Dumlao's question is. I can't even remember Dr. Jose Rizal's full name or even read the book Noli Me Tangere.
   Zev stands up, composed, before facing his classmates. "On October 22, 1895, Rizal sent the Poem to Doña Teodora. The poem was 'Mi Retiro,' in English, 'My Retreat,' which is acclaimed by literary critics as one of the best ever penned by Rizal," he says before looking at Mr. Dumlao.
   "Good. Recite the whole poem." I can sense that Mr. Dumlao is testing Zev. I feel nervous about what's happening.
   "It's a long poem, Mr. Dumlao. It might take some time--"
   "Dr. Rizal is your ancestor. Are you going to disappoint our national hero?"
   "I may have his last name, but Dr. Rizal is not my ancestor." The tension between them escalates. "But if you really want me to recite the whole poem, then I'll do it," Zev adds, and as he said, the poem is indeed long.
    Zev takes his time, every word is clear. It's still early in the morning, but I feel like sleeping again instead of listening to him. I'm not a fan of poems or history. Never.
   "Fudge, I'm exhausted." Felly drops her head on the table here in the cafeteria. "I wish I didn't choose Humss."
   "What do you want to eat now?" we haven't ordered food yet.
   She sits up straight and looks at me, "Why did we choose Humss?" She doesn't answer my question to her.
   "Because we dream of becoming nurses," I give a simple reply.
   She sighs, "Tsk, I wish I chose ABM instead." She grumbles.
   I laugh, "Dhai, we're in grade 12, we can't switch strands anymore."
   "I know. Let's buy our lunch now. I'm getting hungry."
   At exactly 6 in the evening, after our classes, Mr. Damian calls us to the ground floor. It turns out that the school anniversary is near, and as a dance troupe member, we need to practice again. He is obsessed with the word "perfection." I can't blame him too.
   "Dhame!" I flinch at the loud shout of Mr. Damian. "You're not a robot, so fix your dancing!"
   "Aye, sir!" our vice president, who is also a dance troupe member, replies.
   "Kusnetzov! You're a STEM student and you're confused about left and right?! Get it together!"
   "I'm sorry, sir."
   "Stop saying sorry and focus! What are you doing? The event is near and you're all over the place,. messing it all up! Is this the kind of performance you'll show our guests?! No one is leaving until your practice is perfect today." Mr. Damian is visibly frustrated in front of us. After a few minutes or maybe hours, the dance steps become perfect in his eyes before he sends us home.
   "Asher," I call out to him. He quickly turns. "Is Dad at home today?"
   He furrows his brow, "Yes, why?"
   "Uhm, well, I just want to tell him something in person."
   His face perks up a bit, "Do you want to see Dad?"
   I nod, "I haven't seen him since the divorce."
   As we arrive in front of the large house, we quickly get out of the car. My heart beats fast as we walk towards the big door. I don't think this is the right thing to do, but I promised Mum that I would finish my studies. Plus, I don't want to go back home in case what happened the other night with Uncle Atlas happens again. He threatened to kill us. I'm just worried about Mum, who we left with Arlo. I'm waiting for Felly's parents to file a lawsuit against Uncle Atlas.
   "Daddy, Daddy is she gonna be my new nanny?" I snap back to reality hearing the voice of a child in front of me.
   "No, sweetheart," Dad said as he carried his daughter in his arms.
   "But I want her to be my new nanny. She's pretty, I like her already." It's nice to hear a compliment from a child, but I didn't appreciate it because he is Dad's child from another woman.
   "She looks like Asher and you, daddy. Is she your daughter?" The child looks innocent as she looks at me.
"No, she's not my daughter.”