THE LAST ALLEGIANCE
CHAPTER 2: I don’t care about ducks.
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Read part 1 here ˚.🎀༘⋆
PART 1. ˚.🎀༘⋆
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October 2nd, 2015
The room was freezing, not the kind of cold that woke someone up gently. The kind that settled into bone and stayed there sharp enough to make sleep feel like a punishment. Malcolm shivered as he groaned into his pillow.
His navy blue sheets were tangled around his legs as if he had a brutal fight with them while he was asleep. Dark clothes were thrown carelessly across the floor along with pairs of mismatched socks. The walls were covered with various ‘intiminading’ band posters that all had small tears along the edges. Against one of the walls was a punching bag hanging slightly crooked, angled perfectly to hide a jagged hole where frustration must have been taken out a little too much.
Malcolm rubbed his hand down his face before sitting up slowly, he noticed his roommate, as usual, had already made his way to breakfast. “Fantastic,” he muttered to nobody. He stayed there for seconds too long, elbows rested on each of his knees staring blankly at the floor like maybe if he waited long enough the day would simply decide not to happen. Unfortunately he wasn’t that lucky.
With a quiet curse under his breath, he shoved himself upright. He stumbled to his closet. He threw on the first black graphic t-shirt and pair of blue jeans he saw then went to the bathroom to the dorm's shared bathroom to fully finish getting ready.
He stood in front of the mirror, blinking away sleep as he carefully put in his contacts. Malcolm looked exactly as exhausted as he felt. Messy brown hair stuck out in uneven directions, refusing to sit flat no matter what he did with it. Random strands of faded blue cut through the darker color, unevenly dyed like it had either been done impulsively or without much care. His brown eyes looked heavier than they should have for someone his age, shadowed with the kind of tiredness sleep never really fixed. After Malcolm finishes getting ready he makes his way to the cafeteria.
-------- The Cafeteria --------
The cafeteria was loud. Metal chairs scraped against the tile floor while conversations bounced off the walls in a way that somehow made everything feel even earlier than it already was. Students crowded around tables, trading gossip over bad coffee and half eaten breakfasts.
Malcolm grabbed the first thing he saw from the line without really looking at it. Eggs that looked suspiciously fake, burnt toast, and fruit that looked like it had been sitting there for far too long. He made his way toward one of the high-top tables near the back of the room, Alone. Exactly where he wanted to be. He sat down heavily, picking at his food more than actually eating it. Every few seconds his eyes drifted blankly around the cafeteria before dropping back to his tray. Peace lasted maybe two minutes.
“Well, don’t you look miserable.”
Malcolm didn’t bother looking up. A girl slid into the seat across from him anyway. It was Odette, one of the many people who forcibly became friends with Malcolm. Odette had short, raven black hair and dark red eyes that matched the silky, well groomed ears perched atop her head.She wore an aqua green lacy top with flowy sleeves paired with a jean skirt. She somehow had enough energy to make Malcolm immediately regret sitting anywhere visible. “You know,” she started, resting her chin in her hand, “I had the weirdest dream.”
Malcolm stabbed at his eggs.
“Congratulations.”
“No, seriously,” Odette continued, completely ignoring his tone. “There were ducks.”
Malcolm paused, “Ducks.”
“Yes, but not normal ducks.” She leaned forward like this was somehow important. “They were organized.”
He blinked slowly, “Organized.”
“Like military organized,” she whispered dramatically. “Like they were plotting something.”
Malcolm stared at her for a long moment.
“You need hobbies.”
Odette gasped. “I have hobbies.”
“Annoying me isn’t a hobby.”
“It absolutely is.”
Malcolm let out a slow sigh before standing up with his tray.
“Oh come on,” Odette complained. “You’re leaving?”
“Yes.”
“I wasn’t done talking.”
“You never are.” He ignored her dramatic groan and walked toward the trash cans near the side of the cafeteria. The moment he dumped his tray.
“Well, if it isn’t sunshine himself.”
Malcolm paused. He already recognized the voice. Lawrence stood a few feet away, arms crossed, blonde hair annoyingly perfect like he actually cared what people thought at eight in the morning. Beside Lawrence stood the twins, Ada and Abel Sinclair. They had such bright red hair that if you squinted hard enough you might mistake them both for apples.
Lawrence tilted his head slightly. “You know,” he started, “I almost thought you weren’t coming today.”
Abel let out a quiet laugh. “Thought we were finally getting a peaceful morning.”
Ada crossed her arms, already looking irritated. “Please. He was obviously gonna show up eventually.”
Malcolm sighed, “Do you three just stand around waiting for me or is this a hobby?”
Lawrence smiled slightly, “Trust me,” he said, “none of us are that bored.”
Abel snorted, “Yeah,” he said, glancing at Malcolm. “We just wanted to see if you were going to pretend as if nobody exists, like usual.”
Malcolm leaned against the trash can, crossing his arms, “You done?” he asked
flatly.
Ada rolled her eyes so hard it almost looked painful, “God, he’s exhausting.”
Lawrence let out a quiet laugh,“See?” he said, gesturing vaguely toward Malcolm.
“That right there.”
Malcolm raised an eyebrow, “What, talking?”
“No,” Lawrence replied. “Acting like everyone personally offended you for existing.”
Abel snorted, “Pretty sure he wakes up irritated.”
“Pretty sure I don’t care,” Malcolm shot back.
Ada scoffed, “Then why do you always look so bothered?”
Malcolm opened his mouth, paused, then shrugged.“Maybe you’re all just annoying.”
Abel laughed quietly under his breath.
Lawrence smiled, though there was something slightly mean underneath it.“See
that's exactly what I’m talking about.”
Malcolm sighed, “You came over here.”
“Yeah,” Lawrence said casually, “Starting to regret it.”
Before Malcolm could answer.
“Lawrence.” A softer voice interrupted. A blonde girl stood beside him, posture polite, hands loosely clasped together. She lightly touched his sleeve.
“We’re gonna be late,” she said quietly.
Lawrence glanced over before sighing.“Right.”
He looked back at Malcolm. “Try not to hate everybody before lunch.”
Abel smirked, “Might be asking too much.” Ada muttered something under her breath before already turning to leave. Malcolm watched the three walk off and scoffed quietly.
“What was that about?” Malcolm turned. Odette stood there. Beside her was Silas, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, looking half-awake.
“Lawrence being annoying,” Malcolm muttered.
Silas nodded once, “Sounds normal.” Silas wore a cozy autumn weather that looked like a copy and paste of every other one he owned.
Silas shifted his weight slightly. “He always picks you first thing in the morning,” he said.
Malcolm glanced at him. “Lucky me.”
Odette leaned in a little, watching the direction Lawrence had gone. “He’s obsessed with you,” she said simply.
Malcolm gave her a flat look. “That’s not something I want to hear.”
“It’s true though,” she replied, unfazed. “He never talks to anyone else like that.”
Silas shrugged. “It’s not really an obsession, More like irritation.”
“Same thing,” Odette said.
Malcolm turned back toward the trash cans, grabbing the strap of his backpack. “If that’s his way of making friends, he needs therapy.”
Odette smiled slightly. “You’re kind of his favorite, you know.”
Malcolm stopped walking for half a second then kept going, “Don’t say things like that.”
Silas followed beside them. “She’s not wrong, though.”
Malcolm exhaled through his nose. “Why are you two like this in the morning?” They reached the edge of the cafeteria flow, students brushing past them toward classes, the noise slowly thinning into hallway echo.
Odette stretched her arms. “Because mornings are boring otherwise.”
Silas nodded. “And you’re entertaining.”
Malcolm shot him a look. “That sounded nicer in your head.”
“It didn’t,” Silas said.
Odette laughed.
Ahead of them, the hallway split into different wings. Students peeled off in small groups, voices fading into doors closing.
Malcolm adjusted his bag on his shoulder, “I’m going to class early.”
Odette tilted her head. “You say that like it’s a threat.”
“It is,” he replied.
Silas gave a small wave. “Try not to start a war before the first period.”
Malcolm walked off without answering.
Behind him, Odette called out, “You’re still his favorite!” Malcolm didn’t turn around. But he walked a little faster anyway.
Malcolm made it to class and dropped into one of the cold black tables arranged in the center of the room. Five metal stools surrounded it, all identical, all uncomfortable in a way that felt intentional. The first chair beside him scraped loudly as someone dropped into it.
“Finally.” A cocky voice, thick with a heavy Russian accent. Dmitri, Malcolm’s idiotic roommate. He leaned in immediately, throwing an arm around Malcolm’s shoulders like personal space wasn’t a concept he believed in. “What’s got you looking down?” he asked, grinning. “Don’t tell me it’s that blonde rag again.”
Malcolm sighed. “It’s too early for you.”
Dmitri ignored that completely. “You want me to punch him for you?”
“No.”
“Small punch?” Dmitri pressed.
“No.”
“Medium punch?”
Malcolm shoved his arm off, “Stop offering violence. Breakfast just ended, you moron.” Dmitri laughed like that was the funniest thing he’d heard all day. Before Malcolm could settle in properly, another chair scraped. Odette dropped into the seat on his other side.
“Nice seeing you again, did you start a war within the ten minutes we were apart,” she said brightly.
“Don’t,” Malcolm replied immediately.
She ignored him.
More movement. Silas sat beside Odette, pulling his sweater sleeves down over his hands as he settled in. Then the teacher entered. The room shifted instantly, chairs straightening, noise dying down into a low hum. Papers were set down at the front desk. “Alright,” the teacher said, scanning the room. “Today we’re starting group projects.” Suddenly the whole class started looking around the room, whispering, and already deciding who their partners would be. Then there was Malcolm who wanted to die. The teacher continued, already flipping through pages. “You’ll be working in assigned groups of five.”
A pause. Malcolm stared at the table. Dmitri leaned closer again. “This is where it gets interesting.”
Malcolm didn’t answer. Footsteps. The classroom door opened again. Late. A boy stepped in quickly, stopping when he realized every table was already full. His eyes scanned the room to see an empty seat right next to Dimitri.
AUTHORS NOTE:
Hope you liked this :) our writer wasn’t here this week but she got this done last week and I’ve made changes :D
TUNE IN NEXT WEEK (hopefully)
