The Return of Twelve (A Lorien Legacies Fanfic)

11. Where are the Neighbors?

(Fifteen's POV)

"So, what is it with you and Twelve?" I ask Eleven as we walk in the outskirts of the city, hoping to find clues or anything. "Are you two like, in an unkown relationship or something?"

Eleven blush. "No! We're just-" she pause. "Twelve is my childhood friend. My Memory said so. Until we got separated and was sent here."

"Ahh, so, you're childhood crush?"

"Fifteen!" She's turning red now. I remember Greyson who told me he and his twin brother were both kidnapped. It happened that it was his father who did that. And sentbhin to LISS' museum. The Lorien whatever-organization-it-is for Shapeshifters. While Eleven and Twelve are bith kidnapped as well together. I realize I was the only one who was kidnapped alone.

Im always the loner one. The one who is left behind. The one who is by herself only. I hate that.

And I wonder why I'm that last one to get in.

"You really don't want to like him?" I ask, smiling.

"I don't..."

"But you do like him?"

She laughs. "I do."

"You crazy kid," I laugh with her.

Whenever eleven passes by, plants grow under the ground. It isn't really that visible, but I can see it.

"How about you, Fifteen? And Greyson?" She teases.

I laugh. "Oh, please don't pair me with that wimp. He's not really my type!"

"Well, the old saying says the more you hate, the more you love."

I snort. "I didn't say I hate him. Besides, he got Clara, his human girl friend."

"That's sad, you're already heartbroken," Eleven taps my back, and laugh.

"Oh, shut up, Alicia," I laugh.

I don't like it when the topic turns to me suddenly. Eleven is such a naughty kid. But somehow, asking me with my feelings for Greyson, it's not really something. I like him, but he's not my type, period. Instead, I remember the guy who gave me coffee and stayed for me when I was in New York after escaping from the orphanage. I didn't know his name, though. But he guarded me. That guy, he may be my type.

I wonder where he is by now.

Sometimes, girls like to think about silly things, you know.

As Eleven and I keep walking, we pass by a burned house. The smokes are still there, that means it just happened fews hours ago.

Cars were parked outside the house: ambulance, firefighters, police and normal car. People were huddling in another side. The cops were taking care of a young girl. Suddenly, he sees us.

It's Officer Fudlan.

It's weird how Croatia's quiet city get accidents like this. Officer Fudlan give us a stare, so Eleven and I keep on walking and decide to go back to our lodge.

"That was really suspicious," I tell Eleven, locking the door.

"You mean Officer Fudlan?" She asks.

I nod. "Yeah." I walk in circles thinking about things. "Yesterday, he told us about mysterious cases and reports."

Eleven sit down and listen to me. "He did. Does that mean, something is happening now? Mysterious incidents that may be related with Mogadorians?"

"It's possible," I say. "How about tomorrow we look out in the city again?"

"Sounds like a good idea."