Glaston (The Gifted Book 1)

by C. C. Lynch

  When I returned to the common area of the residence hall my peers were looking at me as if I was some dangerous object about to explode, keeping their distance but watching me intently. I had left Headmaster Josnic’s office, gossip about the interaction would ensue for days to come I was sure.

  “How is the patient?” I asked the mousy girl who was still fumbling about with medical tape.

  Tracy’s eyes were swollen from crying and I felt a small pang of guilt for some reason. The girl stammered and could not seem to find any words or the ability to cut tape.

  “Let me see, before I have to heal another wound,” I laughed lightly taking the medical supplies from her.

  “I would have let you die,” Tracy’s voice was low and remorseful.

  “Well thank goodness I am the one with the healing power then,” I fought the urge to poke her wound.

  “Monday you’re going to get your first test grade back. Just wait and see how you feel about everyone else after then. You can’t be a saint and compete with everyone at the same time.”

  “What is the big deal? So three failed classes and you owe a disgusting sum of money to Glaston Academy. Most students here have the ability to rob a chain of banks and get away with it. Heck, if I really needed to I could get into someone’s mind and work some magic.”

  “You don’t get it,” she scoffed and rolled her eyes, “it is not the money we are worried about. It is what happens if we aren’t deemed useful anymore. The best and brightest get given an incredible job where we actually get to use our gifts and the losers are never heard from again.”

  “Wow, please describe to me the reservoir reserved for losers submitted for genocide. What is with you people, really? I am exhausted of these half told horror stories.” I stood up and placed her arm down gently. “There, you’re all bandaged up. If you want me to heal that the rest of the way you need to wait until I get some food in my stomach. Otherwise, try and be careful. I think you’re under an insane amount of stress and it makes you pretty awful to be around, but I would rather have you here than … well… you know.”

  She pulled her lips into a taut line and looked away with a forced brazen expression. I was too exhausted to allow Tracy to annoy me. I patted her arm quickly then retreated to the residence hall kitchen.

  Sitting quietly in the room was Vlaine. “Oh good,” I sighed making my way to him, “I was looking for you earlier.”

  “Oh?” he raised a brow.

  “Yes, do you have a few minutes to discuss something with me?” I clutched my hands together so he could not see them shaking fiercely from the morning events.

  He leaned back in his seat and folded his hands behind his head. “I’m here right now and I have a few minutes.”

  “Great!” I grabbed a muffin then sat next to him. “So what does this mean,” I placed my hand on his arm and re-watched the dream in my head.

  “It means you have some sort of twisted damsel in distress thing going for my brother.”

  “Vlaine,” I scolded, “be serious.”

  “I am serious. I think you’re talking to the wrong brother about this.”

  “What, do you want me to just walk up to Draxe and say, ‘oh hey, I’ve been dreaming about you since I was a kid. Here let me show you so I can get your professional opinion on yourself?’”

  “That sounds like a crazy stalker way to go about the discussion, but if that works for you, sure.”

  “Vlaine,” I growled, “you’re so frustrating, like, ninety percent of the time.

  “Anything else?” His hands were still folded behind his head and his arms were flexed revealing a small portion of a tattoo underneath his arm.

  I tore my gaze from the ink adorning his perfectly sculpted arm. “Yes. Do you have a partner for the ecology project? The professor said we need to work in pairs.” Since Tracy had already turned in the paper I had done claiming it as her own I would need a new partner.

  “Oh look, a few minutes are up. I’ve got to go.” He leaned forward and continued eating his breakfast.

  “Thank you for your time Prince Josnic,” I curtsied, annoyed with the lack of help he provided with my questions.

  “Later, Abbs,” he simpered, seeming pleased with himself.

  “Infuriating man,” I mumbled as I left the kitchen.

  14

  I spent the rest of the weekend in the gymnasium studying, practicing, and writing letters to home. It was my own personal playground where I was free to do whatever I pleased. Though there were a few points when I felt someone was watching me, I never saw anyone enter the building. I was not sure if the other students did not know about it, or if they simply did not want to take the time to venture to the place. Either way, I was content having my own oasis.

  Writing the letters to home reminded me how much I missed Steph and Nicholas. I wanted to confide in them and tell them everything about Glaston Academy, but that would simply sound insane. I finished the letters by writing a bland and generic one to my mother, which curbed the home sickness I had been feeling.

  Sunday evening, just as I was about to head back to the dormitories, I took out the archery equipment and began practicing inside the gymnasium. Listening and feeling the melodic click and slide sounds, I practiced shooting my arrows with intuition alone. I had hoped with each recoil of the string I would be able to tell where the arrow had gone, but that was not the case.

  Though I was not able to decipher where my arrows had gone, my concentration and intuition was sharper. “Hey Vlaine,” I called out. His entrance had been silent, but I could feel his presence.

  “Evening, Abrielle,” his footfalls drew nearer.

  I turned to face him to find that he was carrying fold-up chairs into the gym. “Preparing for tomorrow’s class,” he lifted them so I would know what he was talking about.

  “Excellent,” I continued on with my archery practice.

  Vlaine set the chairs down in the spot where we practiced my telepathy and walked to my side. “You should have told me you were practicing.” His jaw widened into a smile and deep dimples appeared, “I am your professor after all.”

  “I would have called, but I don’t have a phone,” I shrugged in a sardonic manner.

  “Anytime you need me, just try calling out to me telepathically. I should be able to hear you.” His hand cupped my elbow gently and reassuringly, “anytime you want to practice, let me know.”

  I pondered the thought for a moment, thinking of how truly convenient that could be. I was still irritated by his mercurial nature and put up a passive-aggressive wall between us. I shot another arrow before retrieving them and putting away the equipment.

  “I’ll give it a try next time,” I finally nodded.

  He tucked his fingertips into his pockets and he rocked back on his heels, his dimples growing deeper. “Want me to walk you back to the school?”

  My stubborn side wanted to say no, only because I was irritated with how he was this morning but the other part of me, the secret part, wanted to spend more time with him. “Sure,” I nodded in a supercilious manner, “I need to get my stuff out of the locker room.”

  Vlaine was holding the door open, waiting for me to join him. I smiled in a thankful response and he took my books for me.

  “What a gentleman,” I murmured.

  “A trait I picked up from pretending to be this kid Nicholas,” he smirked.

  “Touchy subject, Vlaine,” my voice was querulous.

  “Sorry,” he grinned mischievously.

  “How often were you Nicholas?” I had never actually asked him, but it was something that bothered me frequently.

  His pace slowed and he looked me directly in the eye, “the night of the concert, a short time at the party, and twice at school.”

  It gave me great relief to find that I knew when he was pretending to be Nicholas every time with the exception of one instance. An even greater sense of reprieve came from finding out that he hadn’t been impersonating Nicholas a
s often as I had originally assumed.

  “Is it weird, pretending to be other people? Is it something you like to do?”

  Our footsteps slowed and fell into a rhythm then his brows rose for a moment as he pondered how to answer my question. “I only use it if I have to. It seems like everyone else obsesses over looking or acting like another person, but to me it’s just a lot of work with no reward.” He laughed, “And being Nicholas was a pain in the ass.”

  “How so,” I chuckled, “he’s the easiest person to read and his personality is so simple.”

  Nicholas had the most static personality in my mind. He was overly affectionate and charming, like the youngest sibling that constantly needs attention. Perhaps it was because I grew up with him, but I thought out of anyone I knew he would be the simplest person to emulate.

  His straight brows curved into a thoughtful curve. “I don’t think you ever dug too deep into his mind.” He held his hands up cautiously, “I mean that respectfully, but I think you trusted him so much that you never dug any deeper than his surface.”

  I scoffed, “my Nicholas?”

  “He has such a mild exterior, but the man is actually really complicated. Even if he seemed stoic and fluid, every move he made was actually incredibly calculated.”

  “Okay,” I tried to understand, “give me an example.”

  “I couldn’t understand how he was best friends with you and Steph and could be so…” he made a repulsive face, “affectionate.” Shaking his head, “he made this effort to treat you two exceptionally respectfully so you would always expect that same treatment from any guys you dated.”

  I stopped walking and stared at Vlaine, contemplating what he had just told me. Could I have missed such a large part of someone that I considered my best friend since elementary school? Nicholas always made sure to take my backpack, open doors, and was never repulsively sexual like most teenage men. He had always been the perfect gentleman to Steph and me, but never crossed the line from friendship into relationship.

  “Wow,” I shook my head dubiously, “so all the time there was a deeper part to Nicholas than the carefree heartthrob?” I chewed on my lower lip trying to figure out what age Nicholas could have possibly decided that he would play that role in Steph’s and my life.

  “Yeah,” he snickered, “he’s a pretty good guy.” His lips twisted in contemplation. “I guess there was some dude, Liam or something, and he stomped on both Steph and your heart. He asked his mother what to do and she told him that no one can ever be told to do something, but led to the direction they should go. Ever since then he has been trying to lead you both in the right direction.”

  I recalled the memory Vlaine was referring to. “Steph and I were thirteen when Liam dated both Steph and me at the same time, thinking it would be funny or something. I mean, it was thirteen so ‘dating’ meant a phone call each night, but it took Steph and I nearly two weeks to figure it out and we were both devastated.”

  We continued walking and I could not shake the idea of Nicholas spending our entire friendship showing us how we were meant to be treated. Vlaine walked me to my dorm and before turning away he gave me a wistful glance and began to say something, but quickly snapped his mouth shut. He turned his body and said goodnight before leaving.

  “See you tomorrow, Vlaine,” I whispered.

  Monday began terribly. The physics professor arrived half an hour early and my need to get there an hour early allowed him time to discuss the test we had on Friday. Though I received the third highest grade in the class, the highest graded student was only worthy of a B+. The rest of the students were graded accordingly leaving me with a C. My stomach dropped at the news. Physics was supposed to be my specialty. Part of me wanted to crumple the paper up and burn it. Instead I thanked the professor for explaining the grading policy and tucked the test neatly into my book.

  My head was hidden in the crook of my elbow on my desk as the students gathered into Ecology. All I wanted to do was crawl back into bed and hide from the world.

  The sound of heels clattering, trying to regain balance caught my attention. I glanced up to see Tracy standing on her desk. “Professor B. I would like to make an announcement.”

  Professor B. watched looking exceptionally nervous. Tracy squared her shoulders and shouted, “I am a terrible human being that should choke on my own tongue. Last week Abrielle finished the entire project in one night and I took the credit because I am a spineless bitch and I willingly accept a failure in this class. Thank you.” She jumped down from her desk and strode out of the room.

  The professor was speechless and I could feel my face enflamed with embarrassment as students looked over at me questioningly. A moment later the professor cleared his throat, “was Tracy accurate with her confession?”

  “Um,” I squirmed feeling my face get even redder, “well, it is true that I did most of the project, but Liz helped too. I would disagree with everything else she said though.”

  Vlaine strolled into the classroom and looked at me, “what’s wrong Abbs? Did you dip your face in a bucket of red food dye?” He leaned back, hands crossed behind his head, arms flexing, and a large grin on his face.

  Tracy had a change of heart and declared her wrong doing with taking credit on the project. And stop flexing like that, it’s distracting. I thought to myself. “I’ll tell you later,” I whispered. “Wait,” I gasped as Tracy strolled into the classroom as if nothing had just happened, “did you have something to do with that little occurrence earlier?”

  “What occurrence?” His face softened into innocence, “I was in the kitchen. Whatever happened?”

  My jaw dropped, “it was you! You pulled a Nicholas, but on Tracy!” I whispered leaning towards him.

  “No, Abrielle,” he shook his head “that would be wrong. My incredible gifts are only to be used during ISE or on weekends.”

  That was unexpectedly kind. “Thank you,” I mouthed.

  He squared his gently clefted chin towards me and gave a lopsided grin, “anytime, Abbs.”

  Betrayal and aggravation had been all I felt for Vlaine when I first met him. He was off-putting, intimidating, and powerful, but was the only person that I completely trusted at Glaston Academy. Our lessons together were my favorite part of the day and the patience he had with me was beyond anything I could muster for another individual.

  Two weeks had gone by quickly and I had made no progress with breaking Vlaine’s wall. He wanted me to work on healing but the only way I could do that was by fixing something that was injured. He figured that a diseased animal would be similar and he would bring in tumor ridden rodents for me to try and cure. It was nearly impossible to tell if I was making any difference with the tumors just because of the immense amount of work that went into trying to reverse the damage as well as decrease the size. Accomplishment came with knowing that I was putting the animals in a more comfortable state while I was working on them.

  People seemed to have a new respect for me after seeing my healing powers in action and I was no longer treated like a person harboring a terrible and contagious pestilence. It was refreshing and empowering to have gained that bit of respect from the high strung group of students so quickly. Humans have short memories, and I was sure that within a week or so I would be back at the bottom of the social ladder.

  Liz, in her constant imperturbable state, kept her distance but broke each night with a sincere “goodnight Abrielle.” Will and I would meet each evening to brush the horses. Our nights were usually in silence, but every so often he would tell me a story about some Glaston memory. Sometimes I would try telling him a bit about my past but whenever I did he was silent, seemingly absorbing the information but never responding.

  One morning I woke up exuberant and vigorous. I sauntered into the gymnasium, sat on the floor, intertwined my fingers with Vlaine’s, and began trying to break the wall.

  “Wait,” I jumped towards him, “I have an idea. Lay your head on my lap.”

 
“That’s really sweet Abrielle, but I just don’t think I’m ready. I mean you never even took me out to dinner. You didn’t even notice my new haircut.” He ran his hand through his hair.

  I rolled my eyes, “just do it and trust me.”

  Hesitantly he rolled onto his back and rested his head on my lap. Fighting the tingling sensation that danced through my stomach, I placed a hand on his forehead and another on his chest. Inhaling, I willed him to be calm and content. His shoulders fell; it was working, at least a small amount.

  My hands grew hot and my body buzzed as I began healing him, checking for anything that could be wrong. Mentally I massaged his muscles, cleansed his tissues, and calmed his mind. As the seconds passed Vlaine’s body melted into a relaxed state. Once his breathing found a gentle but steady rhythm I moved to his brain. Starting from the dura mater and working my way into his lobes I healed and read at the same time.

  Patience was a virtue as I combed through every cell. An image of the headmaster and a group of men at a table flashed in my mind. Vlaine and Draxe were in a room full of men dressed in the same dapper attire as the headmaster. They were discussing some corporation whilst in the background were various names and skills written on a whiteboard under the words “think tank.”

  I gasped, “Vlaine, I did it!”

  He sat up quickly, his face nearly colliding with mine in the process. “What do you mean?”

  “I did it. I found a memory. It was a bunch of men in an office, your dad was there. There were names on a board and they were discussing…”

  He put his finger over his lips signaling me to be quiet.

  “Vlaine,” I grabbed onto his shoulders to make my point more direct, “I did it! I read you. It took me three weeks, but… be proud!”

  He sat there silently thinking. I pulled him in for a hug and squeezed tightly before I let go and started skipping around the basketball court. I was exuberant, thrilled, I felt amazing. Hours of work had gone into breaking Vlaine’s wall and I had finally found a crack.