Chapter 27

Hello, you've reached Penelope's voicemail. I can't pick up right now so please leave a message. *beep*
"Uh... Hi, Penny, I know I've said this in the past 30 something voicemails I left but, yeah. I just wanted to make sure you're alright. Call me back when you can, yeah?"
I sighed before hanging up.
I rubbed my face, trying to make the worry lines go away.
I've been sitting on this same, worn out swing in the backyard of Adam's house for the past 30 minutes, trying to reach out to Penelope. The others were waiting inside. They took a single glance of my ‘I am terribly anxious so you better not shit with me right now' face and instantly saved their rants and questions for later.
If anything happens to her...
I shook my head, trying to push all my paranoid thoughts away. That can't be healthy.
I settled for staring off in the distance, wondering what the hell happened to my life and thinking back to Adam's sticky situation. His mom... Dammit. I need to find out how to help them out. I just need to.
Just then, my phone rang and I immediately tore my gaze away from the flower petals on the ground before me and stare at my buzzing phone instead.
The name ‘Penelope' was flashing and I took a deep breath before letting it all go and slid my thumb over the screen.
"Hello?" A meek voice called out and I sighed in relief when I heard the familiar sound.
"Penny! Where have you been? Are you alright? Where are you?" I bombarded her with the questions before she could even say anything.
I heard a sob from the other line and my heart raced for a second, thinking that she was being held hostage or something. I shot to my feet and stood straight.
"Penny, are you okay?" I called out in a rush.
"Y-yeah, I'm okay. Case, I thought they got you. Oh my God. I-I thought-" sobs filled the line, cutting her short.
I hushed her, ensuring her that I was fine and continued to ask her on her whereabouts.
"I'm in my aunt's house, an hour away from town, I took a bus here and she immediately took me in. I contacted my parents last night."
I sighed in relief and I felt like I can finally breathe again.
"Oh God, Case. I was so scared. I'm so sorry I haven't been answering any of your calls. I was scared that they were on the other line. I'm sorry I left you, oh God. I feel awful."
Despite myself, I smiled at her concern for my well-being. "I'm okay, Pen, a few bruises and a split lip but I'll live."
She gasped at that. "How did you get out of there alive? Did they..?" She sounded hesitant to continue and I could hear her gulp through the line. When I finally caught on to what she was trying to imply, I immediately deflected the idea swiftly.
"What? No! Heavens, no. God forbid, Pen!" I frantically interrupted before pausing to calm the air.
"I-" I thought my answer over. I can't tell her that I fought them, no girl in their right mind would do that, it'll raise some suspicions so instead I told her a stranger stepped in and a friend I called during the fight came to help.
"Oh, thank goodness then. You have no idea how worried I was. Thank you, Case. Thank you for everything; for not letting them catch up to me, for risking your life to let me get away. Thank you."
I could hear the tears behind her words and my eyes tear up.
There was just something in helping people, a feeling that I'm addicted to. It's just something I do out of sheer pleasure. It's always the little things, the pencil lending, the listening to people as they pour their hearts out and the donating or giving money to the homeless.
But hearing Penelope thank me as if I just saved her life was tenfold of that feeling. I could feel the lump growing and I shook the thoughts off. I tried to swallow the lump and shush her before I weep.
I'm Pixie for Pete's sake. I'm supposed to be this tough, street fighter chic who fears nothing.
And here you are crying because someone is thanking you. Smooth Pixie, real smooth.
I mentally glared at my conscience's sassiness.
Oh shut up. I snapped mentally before resisting the urge to slap myself. Now I'm talking to myself. Ugh.
I quickly ended the call with Penelope and sat on the swing for a while, thinking of last night's events I rummaged the pocket of my vest, patting for the piece of paper.
I felt around for it and when my fingers came in touch with it, I pulled it out and stared at it intently.
It was a picture of me and I was laughing. It didn't seem like I was aware that my picture was being taken because there was someone else with me at that time. A familiar arm was around my shoulders which were hunched over my laughing expression.
The bald, fat dude dropped it when he was pulling his phone out. The picture dropped onto the ground and he didn't notice it.
I raised my hand, palm facing up as I beckoned him for the phone as his hands searched his pockets for the animate object.
In the end of my vision, I saw something flutter on the ground but I chose to ignore it, making a mental note to pick it up after he walks away.
The second he gave me his phone, I took a single look on the screen and I could've recited the numbers by heart. Thank God for photographic memories. I took the chance to take a fleeting glance over to the object that's now on the ground.
The light wasn't enough and I could barely see it but I would never be able to miss the familiar dark hair and eyes, the same features I look into the mirror and criticize about every morning.
I shook the thoughts and pushed it into the deepest part of my mind. Someone took that picture of me and someone knew of my whereabouts, my identity, my secret and I was nowhere okay with all that.
I took a last look on it before standing up. I walked towards a corner on the backyard and picked up a twig, digging a narrow hole on the bare ground and took the lighter out of my pocket while holding the tip of the picture. I set the lighter on while holding the paper above it, keeping it aligned with the edge of the picture.
I watched as the fire crawl up towards the fingers that were pinching the piece of paper, suspending them mid-air. I watched the flames lick the picture, leaving black wisps in their wake.
When the flames were high enough to lick my fingers, I let the paper fall into the small hole I dug and when the picture was fully burnt and the flames were out, I brushed the soil back to its original place and pat the area, burying the ashes beneath the ground.
I semi-clapped my hands together, trying to rid the dirt and stood up from my crouched position.
I was about to enter the house when my phone rang again.
I looked down onto the new pay-phone I got earlier, puzzled. I checked the caller ID and when I saw that it was Levy's number, I answered it in an instant.
"Hey sweet cheeks," he greeted cheerfully. (A/N if you don't remember Levy, he's Casey's only friend in the Underground Place besides her brother's friend, the bartender, back in ###Chapter 4)
I smiled at his chirpy voice, "Hey Lev, what's up?" I love this guy like a brother, he's been there for me through thick and thin and even though he doesn't know about my real identity, he's a dear friend to Pixie.
"I just wanted to drop in and check if you're alright. I haven't heard from you since forever, girly!" He said the last sentence in a high-pitched voice.
I just had to chuckle at his antics, amused beyond words. Lev is an 8 year old stuck in a grown man's body.
"I'm fine, Lev, just a bit busy lately. But seriously though, cut the crap. Why are you calling?" I wasn't one to beat around the bush and although I love the dude, he can be a pain in my ass when he was trying to stall.
"Always the patient one, Pixie." The sound of his deep laugh filled the line and I smiled.
"You know it big guy. Now, spill." I demanded jokingly.
"Well, there's going to be this huge street fighting competition thing in the near future that I thought you'd be interested in. Before you blow up on me, Pix, hear me out. This competition is going to be the bomb! The prizes, the money, being given out to winners are insane and I know you don't need the money but just give it a thought, alright?"
Usually, I would've ignored him and gave him a quick goodbye whenever he brought up these things but this time, a flash of Adam's pale mother lying on her bed, resting, floated into my head and I find myself actually considering it.
Silence followed and I contemplated it but I knew I made my choice even before I asked the questions.
"How much?"
Stunned silence filled the call. He sputtered a few incoherent words but he finally took his time to form a decent sentence.
"You're actually thinking about it?" He sounded puzzled but his tone was ecstatic, like a boy on a Christmas morning.
"Yes, Lev. Now tell me how much," I pressed, not wanting to talk about my reasons. He didn't need to know that. Pixie was
heartless, reckless and cared for no one but herself. If I showed that I cared about someone, a rival or an enemy might use it against me.
"You get 2 grand for every match you win and if you win the whole competition, the grand prize will be 10 grand. But here's the catch, Pix. This competition, it ain't like the Underground Place. It's full of vicious and merciless people. They won't hold back just because you're a girl and the last time they hosted something like this, someone died."
My breath hitched on the last word he said. That just made this whole thing more and more complicated. If I don't go in, I'm passing up a chance to help Adam's mother. If I do go in, I might die.
"Pix, are you there?" Levy's voice sounded far away but I managed a distinct "I'll call you back later," before hanging up and falling back on the swing.
Dear God. What am I going to do now?