“You mean you actually met the Grand Duchess Anastasia?” Calvin asked, wide-eyed and fascinated.
“Many times.”
“And you still don’t like dancing?” Jane asked in disbelief. “You’ve been around for such a long time and probably learned so many dances, how can you not like dancing?”
“I never said I do not like dancing,” he corrected. “I said I do not understand these trivial school dances.”
“What do you have against them?” Jane lived for these moments where Depogare revealed a bit about himself, never enough to unravel the mystery he was shrouded in but just enough to make her want to know more.
“Girls dress in inappropriate dresses and dance akin to the way people mate,” he replied, his eyes locked on hers. “Boys only attend to grind against the girls in hopes that actual sex is permitted, to get drunk with their friends, and act like complete imbeciles.” Jane blinked, once, twice, surprised by such an abrupt response from him. He continued to look at her, though now the twinkle in his eyes were enigmatic. “Tell me, Miss Cabot,” he drawled. “Is there a particular reason why you like dancing?”
“Perhaps it has to do with the fact that dancing stimulates arousal and can take place of copulation without the dangers that usually accompany it, such as an unwanted pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases—” Calvin began, but before he could finish, Jane interrupted him.
“And what is that supposed to mean?” she growled.
“Certainly you know what copulation means,” he replied.
“I’m surprised you do.” Jane could feel herself start to get frustrated with Calvin, so she gripped the edges of her desk with both hands in order to try and calm herself down. It was rather hard to do, what with Calvin’s insinuation hanging in the air for all of the room’s occupants to see. She didn’t like dancing because it was the poor man’s version of sex; she liked dancing because she could easily lose herself in the music, forget all of her problems, and finally allow herself the freedom she craved but her good girl reputation refused to permit her. It allowed her to express with her body everything her mouth couldn’t say.
“I think that’s enough for tonight,” Depogare said in a calm voice, but his midnight blue eyes held a warning solely for Jane. “I shall see you both tomorrow night. Miss Cabot, a moment?”
It was only after Calvin was gone and the door was shut did Depogare stand and walk around his desk. “Come here,” he commanded in a soft voice.
Jane did as he asked her to, questions clear in her forest green eyes. It was hard to read his face when it was so guarded, but the look itself was gentle, kind even.
“I want to show you something,” he continued and offered her his hand. Jane’s eyes widened at the prompt for physical contact, but she held herself together and placed her hand in his. He glanced away and in an instant, the room was filled with music, slow and distinctly Southern. He must have used his own quis skills to start the record player off to the side. “The music is Autumn Dream by Archibald Joyce. A waltz.” He placed his hand on her shoulder while his other hand tightened around hers. “Place your right hand on my shoulder, bend your elbow slightly.”
Jane followed his instructions, feeling goose bumps prick her flesh. The position wasn’t as uncomfortable as she expected it to be, what with their height difference; if anything, it felt right. She felt tingles start to buzz from their joined hands and warmth spread through her. She hoped she wasn’t blushing.
“I don’t know how to waltz,” she admitted in a small voice. Her parents never forced her to take piano lessons, dance lessons, or even etiquette lessons like Elle’s parents did to their daughter, though both girls came from the same income bracket.
“That is all right,” he told her. “Let me lead you.”
Jane nodded, biting her bottom lip. She had absolute confidence dancing by herself, but when it came to dancing with another person, it was a completely different story. She was an athlete, not a dancer.
He began to glide her across the room, being wary of desks and chairs as he did so. She did her best to follow, but she got tangled up more than once. Depogare did not seem to notice.
“Do you know why I prefer this dance?” he asked her, cocking his head to the side. Jane didn’t think she could talk and dance at the same time, so she opted to simply shake her head. “We are barely touching, and yet my senses are heightened around you. Back before your time, a touch meant more to people than it does now. People take it for granted. Touching is so common that the sense is convoluted and they barely even react. Back then, besides the customary hand kiss, a woman would only be touched by her suitor, and until they were married, never by bare skin.”
“Why did you never get married?” The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it. However, she forced herself to look at him, as if to pretend that she meant to ask the question. And she actually did want to know the answer.
Before he could, Jane stepped onto his foot just as he was leaning back to shift their position. This caused him to fall back, his hands gripping her waist as he fell, ensuring Jane would remain unharmed even as they careened backwards. Without thinking about what she was doing, Jane managed to place her hands behind his head in order to prevent him from knocking it on the floor. He collided with the ground, letting out a soft grunt with her landing on top of him.
“Are you all right?” he asked her.
Currently, Jane was straddling her professor, the hem of her school skirt bunching around her thighs. She didn’t even notice her awkward positioning as she said, “That was completely my fault. Are you okay? I am so sorry.”
He began to chuckle, ceasing the continuous apologies that tumbled out of Jane’s mouth. All she could do was look at him, unable to breathe. He was beautiful when he smiled, like a dark angel falling into her arms. Her fingers felt the silky strands of his hair and she couldn’t help but curl around them ever so slightly in hopes that he wouldn’t notice.
“You probably wouldn’t win over any suitors with your dancing skills and your obnoxiously big feet,” he teased. Yes, he teased her. Another side of him she had never seen before, another side she desperately wanted to know.
Jane was about to argue with him about the size of her feet but she couldn’t. Instead, she started laughing with him. Her breathing faltered once he reached up and pushed a lock of her hair from her face.
“Miss Cabot,” he said in a low murmur, making her heart feel hot and cold at the same time.
“Yes?” she managed to say.
“You can get off of me now.”
Jane blushed profusely, more than she ever had before. She stood up, dusting herself off and offered Depogare her hand, even though she didn’t expect him to comply. Surprising her, he placed his hand in hers—a spark, a shock—and she helped him up. After a quick thanks, she quickly headed back to her dorm. Sophie and Elle were both waiting for her, though Elle seemed to be staring off, and the three began to talk about nonsensical things that Jane really didn’t pay any attention to.
“So,” Sophie said, turning to Elle after a good half hour of gossip. “Are you going to ask this Aiden guy to the dance?”
Elle didn’t answer. If anything, she seemed dazed, daydreaming even. Jane shared a look with Sophie before Sophie slipped off her bed and headed to Elle. “Hello!” She waved her hand in front of Elle’s face, causing the blonde to snap out of her wistful thinking. “Earth to Elle!”
“Sorry, sorry,” Elle said, waving her hand somewhat sheepishly. “What were we talking about?”
Jane rolled her eyes and smirked, lying on her bed sideways so she could face the girls.
“We wanted to know if you’re going to invite Aiden to the Halloween dance,” Sophie said. “You did say he’d be coming back from England soon, right? You should invite him. I know there’s tension between the two of you, but that’s the best part.”
Elle immediately shook her head, wisps of blonde curls snapping back and forth along with E
lle’s fast movements. “Are you guys kidding?” she asked. “Aiden doesn’t know what I am. He doesn’t know that people like us exist. Inviting him to the dance would be like wearing a shirt that said something like, ‘Hey, by the way, I’m a freak too.’ ”
“You are not a freak,” Sophie said firmly. “None of us are.”
“Elle,” Jane said, finally breaking her silence. She had been rather reserved these past few weeks, and she wanted to change that before her friends started asking her questions, especially since she couldn’t answer them. “Hypothetically speaking, Aiden asks you out and after a couple months of dating, you begin a relationship. Are you ever going to tell him what you are?”
“Ooh, good question,” Sophie said, turning her head and fixing her sapphire stare on Elle.
“I-I don’t know.” Sophie was right; it was a good question, one she had never thought about. She had never dated anyone before Matt, and Matt himself was a peculiar, a shifter even. “Would you guys?”
“I don’t think I could date a guy who wasn’t some sort of peculiar,” Sophie responded. “It’s kind of hard to hide the fact that I’m ridiculously strong and our sex life would be pretty much nonexistent.”
“It also depends on how serious your relationship is,” Jane put in. “Think about it: If you and this guy are planning to have kids, do you tell him, considering that if a parent has the peculiar gene, there’s a fifty percent increase that your kid becomes peculiar?”
“But,” Elle said, leaning forward and throwing her long legs over the side of her bed, “what about the rumors that peculiars are going to come out to society? I mean, doesn’t the government already have some secret group that’s already researching us?”
“Okay, number one, there’s no reason to whisper,” Jane teased. “Number two, where have you heard that rumor?”
“Well, I mean, Murdoch keeps saying that everyone should just be upfront with who they are,” Elle explained. “Obviously. She called Sophie out on her first day. Ethan has said that he’d like to educate panpi about peculiars. Build a relationship, blah, blah, blah.”
“Wait, so Ethan wants to tell the panpi that people like us exist?” Jane asked and then shook her head. “I don’t like that.”
“Why not?” Elle asked. “It’d be so much easier dating if people knew what I was, save me that awkward conversation of being like, ‘Oh, did I mention? I change into a bird every full moon.’ ”
“You’d still have to tell them,” Sophie pointed out. “It’s not like once everyone knows of our existence, they’ll suddenly be able to know who is and isn’t peculiar.” She slouched her shoulders, placing her hands in her lap. “I don’t know, though. I think it’d be nice to not have to hide anymore. And maybe the sooner we do come out to them, the sooner they’ll get used to us and we can maintain a nice, friendly relationship.”
“Or a destructive one,” Jane said. Her response startled her only because she was usually optimistic about things. “Other peculiars want to run experiments on us in hopes to pinpoint where we came from, why some peculiars have no history of it in their family, like mine. Think about what the panpi would do to us. And not only that, but we know that only two physicals exist right now, three if you count the one who died. Who knows what other type of peculiars are out there?”
“Dark, Jane,” Elle said with a smile.
“It’s just scary to think about what someone—panpi or peculiar—would do for power,” Jane finished, looking up at the ceiling. “The panpi might use us as weapons in war; we might use the panpi to get more power by threat of exposing confidential plans or bodily harm. I just think we’re good where we are.”
“Yeah, but there are exceptions,” Sophie said, her voice light rather than argumentative. “I mean, Jared is panpi with no relationship to peculiars, but he’s cool with us. He hasn’t used us as weapons and we haven’t threatened him with harm.”
“Yeah, but is Jared the exception or the rule?” Jane asked quietly. “And do you really want to take that risk?”
There was an awkward pause. Then, to break the silence, Elle said, “So Sophie, is Jason going to coordinate his suit with your dress or what?”
29
Her mind was full. After their discussion last night about peculiars and panpi, Sophie had trouble falling asleep. As much as she wanted everyone to get along, she knew that that would never happen. Jane was right. If the panpi knew peculiars existed, they’d run experiments on them, use them as a means to an end, and, in all likelihood, strip them of their rights. If panpi could treat other panpi as second-class citizens simply because they looked different or believed in different things, they might consider peculiars as not even human.
Why would Ethan want to work with panpi in order to educate them about peculiars? It was a waste of time. If Sophie’s parents couldn’t even accept her for what she was, then how could she expect strangers to?
Jane was also right about another thing; Jared was an exception to the rule. Just because Jared accepted peculiars didn’t mean all panpi would. And once they found out about Sophie and all that she could do, she’d be a goner. Especially since she looked like just an average teenage girl, nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary.
The more Sophie thought about it, the more she didn’t want to think about it. Since peculiars had yet to actually be outed, she was safe.
Although she did question why Ethan had yet to experiment on her. Was it weird that Sophie was okay with Ethan running tests on her, but thought that if panpi did, it would be an act against against her humanity? Did that make her a hypocrite? Maybe it was because Ethan wanted to know about physicals simply for the knowledge, for educational purposes. Panpi would try to duplicate her, use her to do whatever they wanted. Did that make it okay for one and not the other?
Sophie shook her head as she let the hot water fall down on her in the small shower. She had gotten little sleep last night and needed the heat of the shower to wake her up. Whenever she thought about this, she found herself running in circles. It was like trying to solve the meaning of life or something else just as complex.
Other things she could think about that might have otherwise blotted the issue out only enhanced her headache. School required so many things to remember: the different parts of the brain, how suits in Tarot represented an element, the difference between the rising and falling signs, the survival of the fittest theory, anything Jared threw at her about Numerology and Palmistry, and the perfection of hitting in a particular way. If she thought about one part, it made all the other parts come rushing through her head.
Boys were another matter entirely. She liked Jason, looking forward to going to the dance with him and possibly feeling the way she felt about her ex for him. Not the same exact way, of course, but similar. But every time she thought about Jason, she couldn’t help but think of Will, especially after their last encounter together. There was something between them, something that went beyond instructor and pupil, went beyond a silly little crush. She felt it when she touched his stomach after punching him for the first time. Even before that, when they first met and she pushed him away from her in a forest in Tahoe. She felt it when he looked at her with that gold-green gaze and told her he could take care of her in all the ways Jason couldn’t. The crazy thing was, she believed him. Jason was safe and popular, the All-American boy. Will was a loner, but incredibly protective and loyal. She trusted Will with her life.
What Sophie didn’t understand was why he was being such a jerk to her. Why did Will care if Jason asked her to the Halloween dance? If he was jealous, why didn’t he say so? Why didn’t he just tell her? It was wrong, she knew, due to their instructor-pupil relationship, but he technically wasn’t a professor and nobody had to know.
Whoa, a thought erupted, stopping the impulsive nature of her thinking altogether. This is wrong, Soph. Will could get in trouble, and so could you. You have Jason. He’s safe. He’s a student. He’s your age. And it wasn’t like Will would ever adm
it to anything anyway. He’s a loner, remember? And he hasn’t settled down or fallen in love because he hasn’t met his type of woman yet. You’re seventeen. You have your entire, extremely long life in front of you. Forget about Will and have fun with Jason.
She stepped out of the shower, drying off and wrapping her towel around her body. As she blew her hair dry, she tried to harden herself against Will. She wouldn’t allow herself to fall for him, wouldn’t allow herself to hope for something so utterly hopeless. She would focus on Jason; Jason could give her what Will couldn’t whether he said otherwise or not.
The three roommates headed down to breakfast a half an hour later. Jane looked nearly as tired as Sophie did while Elle seemed to carry a pen and notebook with her wherever she went, writing something every now and then. Writing what? She wouldn’t say, and Sophie thought it would be rude to ask her about something as personal as writing.
After getting their breakfast, the three took their usual seats, Sophie making it a point to refuse to look at the professors’ table, and more than that, at Will. She lathered her five pancakes with maple syrup and was about to take a rather big bite when Jason took a seat across from her.
“Hey Sophie,” he greeted with that boyish grin. “Wow, that’s a lot of pancakes.”
Sophie blushed, setting down her fork. Her stomach rumbled in protest, but she wasn’t about to pig out in front of her date. Plus, she needed to make sure that she could fit into the dress she bought.
Will bought.
Technically.
“Oh, I, um, guess it is,” she conceded. She scraped off a couple pieces of pancakes and placed the much smaller bite in her mouth, making sure it was shut as she chewed.
“I love it,” Jason said, sincerity clear in his milk chocolate eyes. “I hate when girls pick at their food, or eat salad and fruit. I love it when a girl has a healthy appetite.”
Sophie’s lips curled up and her eyes rested on Jason’s plate of food. His entire plate was filled with scrambled eggs, sausages, and shredded hashbrowns. He ate nearly as much as Will did—not that she noticed.
Stranger Series Box Set Page 20
