by A. L. Knorr
Gage had told me his schedule back in September and I’d promptly forgotten. A rush of shame mingled with gratitude filled me unexpectedly. “Thanks, guys,” I said. “For making me come out.”
Tomio and Gage shared a look.
“We almost gave up on you, you know,” said Tomio. “You spend most of your time with April, and we know that can’t be fun.”
“How is that going?” Gage ran a hand through his wet hair, standing it up in spikes. “Is she getting any better?”
“With some things,” I replied as we turned another corner, this time it was my turn to allow my body to press into Gage’s. The blur of street lights increased as we took the high street toward the pub.
“I think there’s a good chance she’ll be able to pass the skills exam now,” I mused, “but she has dreams of winning the top marks award. She’s always been the best student in every class, her whole school career. Arcturus is a shock to her, believe me.”
Gage chuckled. “No doubt, but she might actually have a chance. She’s better at ignition now. Everyone knows she’ll get top marks in every theoretical class, which will lift her average and make her competitive. It’s possible that all she has to do is pass skills and she’ll sweep the rest of us. I’ve never met a smarter girl.”
“Dude, she’s smarter than all the guys too,” Tomio chided.
Gage nodded and looked at me, contrite. “Sorry. That’s my dad rubbing off on me. No offense.”
“None taken.” His statement about April actually gave me a warm feeling. I would tell her what he’d said and that would encourage her. Goodness knew we both needed reassurance. If April knew Gage thought there was a chance she could actually pass, she’d try all the harder.
“I didn’t know anyone was watching her progress,” I said.
“Of course we are. All the first-years are rooting for her,” replied Gage.
The three of us stood, holding the overhead bar as we came to a stop. I didn’t agree with Gage’s last statement but I didn’t express my doubts. It was nice that he thought only the best of people and I didn’t want to sound cynical by comparison.
The rain had diminished to a drizzle by the time we reached the door of The Chalk Tombs. We found a table under a window and hung our dripping raincoats on the backs of our chairs as a waitress came over with menus. The Tombs, as it was called for short, was a traditional Kentish inn and pub filled with the smells of fish and fries, wood smoke and beer. Thick, dark beams crisscrossed overhead and soot stained the white walls above every fireplace. The warped diamond-pane glass of the windows reflected the light of the wooden chandeliers in a petty, dappled way.
“How old is this inn?” I asked the waitress as we sat down.
“The Chalk Tombs was built in 1348,” she said in a monotone as she dropped menus on our table and liberated a small notebook from the pocket of her apron. “Originally built as a brewery run by monks, it was granted an official license to sell ale in 1545. What do you want?”
“Why is it called The Chalk Tombs?” Tomio picked up a menu and opened it.
“Why do you think?” She took a pencil stub from the top of her ear and poised its tip over a page. “Because its built on top of chalk and there are tombs for dead people underneath, init.”
“Can we go down there?” I didn’t miss the startled look Gage gave me. Right, he hated the dark, which probably meant he had no interest in going underground.
“No. You can’t.” She gave a weary sigh that said she got asked that all the time. “They’re not safe. Might collapse. Can I take your order?”
Gage turned a shade not distant from chalk himself. “If the tombs might collapse, then how safe is it to be in the pub?”
The waitress shot a look at Gage that said dimwit.
“The pubs aren’t right on top of the tombs, there’re tunnels to reach ’em. Plenty of the old buildings around here have tunnels b’neath from old mines. They all empty out along the coast.” She flapped a hand in the opposite direction of the Channel.
Tomio looked like he wanted to laugh but was afraid to. He slid a hand over his mouth.
She went on: “If it was dangerous we couldn’t be in business, could we? Now may I please take your order sometime before I die?”
We gave her our orders and just before she left I asked, “Where is the washroom?”
“Where is the what?” She looked as though I’d asked her where the killing room was but her eye sparkled. She knew perfectly well what I was asking.
“The toilet,” Gage added earnestly. “Canadians call it the washroom.”
“Do they now?” She gave a honk that might have been laughter. “Too fine a sensibility? Canadians don’t wee do they? They only wash?”
“No. See, to us, the toilet is the actual commode—” Gage realized she was having him on and rolled his eyes.
“Down the way, to the left,” she said, then walked away.
“Be right back,” I told the boys.
I took the hallway she’d directed me down and emerged in another cozy room with a fireplace, antique tables and mismatched chairs. Dodging into the narrow passageway to the left, I spotted the door to the ladies. It was identified by the stencil of a woman’s head in a bonnet. As I pushed on the door, I heard a familiar laugh.
Instead of going into the bathroom, I continued down the passageway, pausing at the end where it opened into yet another room. Peeking around the corner, I saw a group of Arcturus students sitting around a table talking and laughing. Jade and Kendall had their backs to me. Seated across from them were Ryan and April.
Shock dropped my jaw. Ryan had his arm over the back of April’s chair as she laughed at something Jade was saying. Ryan and April didn’t quite look like they were together romantically, but they sure did look like good friends. A cold worm of suspicion slithered through my gut.
Ryan and Jade had both demeaned April on multiple occasions, while Kendall was a sheep who followed along. Never in a billion lifetimes would I have guessed that they’d adopt April into their little clique, especially given how insecure and jealous I thought Jade to be.
Ryan tilted back in his chair as Jade and Kendall told a story to April. Gage’s twin leaned back far enough to balance on the rear legs and be out of April’s line of sight. I watched as his gaze wandered to the nearest window and a look of sullen boredom transformed his face.
When April turned to look at him, laughing, Ryan’s expression changed in an instant. He let out a loud laugh as though he’d been following the story all along. If I hadn’t just seen him look like he wanted to pluck out his own eyes from pure apathy, I would have believed he was sharing a genuine moment of humor with friends.
I retreated, processing. What had I just seen? As I went through the motions of soaping and washing my hands, my imagination spiraled with possibilities. Ryan had had a change of heart and had befriended April out of guilt? That didn’t seem likely, but then I avoided Ryan at every opportunity so how would I know if he’d been reprimanded by a professor or something?
As I left the washroom and took my time returning to the table, my sense of foreboding worsened.
“Are Ryan and April friends?” I asked Gage as I settled into my seat. Our drinks had been delivered and I pulled my soft drink closer.
Gage blinked. “Not that I’m aware of. Why?”
The boys leaned forward on their elbows as I relayed what I had seen in the other room.
“Well it’s obvious,” replied Tomio as he picked up his pint of ale. “Ryan wants the top marks award and April kicks ass at everything except skills. Keep your enemies closer, you know?”
Gage frowned. “They’re not enemies. April is nice. Why can’t he just like her for who she is?”
Tomio and I exchanged an obvious look, which Gage did not miss.
He shrugged, unwilling to say anything more against his twin other than: “He’s read too many Ayn Rand novels.”
“What do you mean?” Tomio leaned back as the wa
itress came over with three plates of food.
“He’s saying he shares her philosophy.” I leaned back as a Caesar salad and garlic toast slid beneath my nose. “What was it called again?”
“Objectivism, but most thinkers use the term Rational Egoism.” Gage looked embarrassed. “I only know that because Ryan was a fiend for her books a couple of years ago.”
I looked at Gage as I unfolded my napkin and lay it across my lap. “Are you saying Ryan won’t do anything unless it benefits him? Because I have to say, that makes a lot of sense and it’s good of you to admit it.”
Gage shifted in his seat, brow wrinkling. “It makes him sound bad, but I don’t mean it that way.”
“You admit that your own twin is solely self-interested and in the next breath you defend him?” Tomio picked up his fish-burger and took a massive bite.
Gage shrugged and picked up a fry. “He’s my twin. I love him.”
“Of course you do.” I speared a bit of lettuce with my fork. “But how is it in his interest to befriend April?”
The shadow of something like jealousy flickered in Gage’s eyes. “Why do you care who he befriends?”
The lettuce was half way to my mouth when I froze, then lowered it slowly. I felt heat creeping up my neck. “I don’t, I guess.”
As quickly as the shadow had appeared, it was gone. He glanced from me to Tomio. “Good, then let’s talk about something else. Tell us more about your combat training with this MMA expert.”
While Tomio regaled us with tales of fire-combat with cooking-inspired code words, I couldn’t shake the image of Ryan’s arm around April, her innocently laughing up into his face and his manufactured grin glittering down at her. It reminded me too much of a particular fairy-tale involving a big, bad wolf.
Twenty-One
Doubts
I found April in the CTH practicing simple ignition before our coaching session. She often warmed up this way because she’d improved a lot with it and it made her feel like she was off to a good start. She was now able to hold her flame steady and change the size of it the way Wanda had requested at the placement class.
She held a crackling red flame the size of an apple in her left palm, her face pinched with concentration.
“Watermelon,” I said as I crossed the floor toward her.
She didn’t look up but her brows pinched further and the flame expanded slowly. It stalled out and refused to grow any further when it hit the size of a cantaloupe.
Her gaze lifted. “It’s one of those little seedless ones from Mexico.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
Her flame went out with a pop. “Oops.”
“Still can’t take your eyes off it, huh?”
She nodded and lit her right hand. “But I’m way better than I was a month ago.”
“You are, but of all the first-degree skills you’ll be tested on in December, you’ve only mastered three. Shall we work on metastasis again? It seems to give you the most trouble. You don’t need climb or anything, you can just practice on the floor.”
She looked pained. “Do we have to? I’ve been practicing throwing all week. I was hoping you’d critique my technique.”
“Do you think you can pass your throwing test? Because I know you won’t pass melting, metastasis, pitch, quenching, drawing, concealment, or even detonation for that matter. We need to get those skills up to par. Remember you get the biggest return on investment if you spend the time on what you can’t do, rather than perfecting what you can do. We’re near the forge, why don’t we work on melting if you’re not up for metastasis?”
April blew a stray lock of hair away from her face and let her flame go out. “I hate melting. My pitch is terrible.”
“That’s why you have to practice it. You only have to demonstrate it with metals that take 1000 degrees Fahrenheit or less. You can do this. Trust me.” I headed for the metals storage closet and melting basins. “We’ll start with tin. I know you can produce 450 Fahrenheit at a steady rate. I’ve seen you do it. Just don’t let yourself get distracted and overheat it. They’ll have a way to measure vapor and you’ll lose points if they detect any.”
She followed me but dragged her feet along the hafnium flooring. “If I can melt the tin without vaporizing it, do you mind if I duck out early?”
I emerged from the closet with a chunk of tin in my hand. “You’re always here before me and you always stay after I leave to practice. What’s so important?”
April gave an enigmatic smile and shrugged. She held out her hand for the metal and I passed it over. “No reason.”
A suspicion rose and I narrowed my eyes. “It doesn’t have anything to do with Ryan, does it?”
Her fine brows lifted. “How did you know that?”
I let out a sigh and leaned on the basin with my elbows as April held out her hand, balancing the metal in her open palm. “I was at The Chalk Tombs the other evening. I saw you with them; Ryan, Jade, Kendall. I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to trust him.”
April jerked her palm back, and I looked up into a shocked face. “What business is it of yours?”
Her tone took me off guard. I straightened. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
She snorted. “That’s rich coming from you.”
“What do you mean?”
She cocked a hip and jutted her chin forward. The sassy pose looked strange on her. “You’re cozy with Ryan’s twin. Do you think you’re the only girl in school who can have a hot guy?”
I was even more surprised that her voice was trembling with emotion. I softened my tone. “My relationship with Gage has nothing to do with me not wanting you to get used or stepped on. Gage and Ryan look alike, but they’re very different people.”
“Used?!” April dropped the tin into the sink and put her hands on her hips. She’d lost the sass and now reminded me of an angry stork. “You think he couldn’t possibly be attracted to poor, geeky April Brown, is that it?”
“No, of course not!”
Her eyes flashed. “Ryan has become the only thing about Arcturus that I happen to like. The rest of the time, I’m miserable. Why are you trying to come between me and the only person I have any fun with?”
“You seem to have fun with Kendall and Jade, too. Just saying.” Not that I had any great esteem for either of them, but at least they weren’t downright scary, as Ryan could be.
“I don’t mean that kind of fun and you know it,” she said, lowering her voice as though scared of being overheard, even though we were the only students in the forge.
“Ah.” I had to take a moment to process this and kicked myself internally for not realizing it sooner. April had said she wanted to lose her virginity. Naturally, she had set her sights on Ryan. The idea made my stomach turn. April was too good for him. I cleared my throat, not sure what to say. She was a grown up. “I’m only looking out for you,” I said, sounding weak.
“I can look out for myself, thanks,” she snapped.
Pinching my lips shut, I took a deep breath through my nose. This is what I get for trying to be compassionate? A dressing down from the student I was sacrificing my free time to help. I had a powerful urge to call off the tutoring sessions then and there and leave her to her own devices. Counting to ten, I waited for the feeling to pass and tried to put myself in her shoes in the meantime.
Noble or not, it’s human nature to look for a partner who is equal or better than oneself in some way, including attractiveness. No matter how much lip gloss or eyeliner April wore, she’d never be a beauty. I’d never say it to her, but a guy like Ryan could only be interested in April for selfish reasons. Ryan was good looking and could be charming. Of course, the Ryan I knew was a bully, but that’s not who he was around April, at least not any more.
“One last question but you don’t need to answer it,” I said, working hard to keep my voice soft. “Just think about it. Ask yourself why he was so mean to you at the beginni
ng of the year, and why he’s so nice to you now.”
“I know the answer to that.” April didn’t hesitate. “It’s what I told you when we first met. I know how to make friends. Nobody likes me at first, especially guys. But eventually, they come around. Ryan has given me a chance, and as hard as it is for you to believe, he actually likes me.”
Doubt peppered my mind. Doubt in both directions. Maybe I was wrong and April did know how to grow on people. She’d grown on me. Should I feel ashamed of my thoughts? But I couldn’t shake the sense that Ryan had an ulterior motive.
“You’re right, you did tell me that’s how things work with you,” I said. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
Her expression went through a miraculous transformation. The anger melted away and her eyes filled with a vulnerability so blatant it scared me. She reminded me a of a fawn—defenseless and innocent.
“That’s alright. Really.” She came around the basin and enfolded me in an unexpected hug. “I’m good at melting hearts.”
Patting her back awkwardly, I held her for a moment, letting the dismay I felt show on my face for the brief moment she couldn’t see me.
“Now that we’ve got that out of the way,” I said as we withdrew, “what say we focus on melting metal instead of hearts?”
April nodded and fished the tin out of the basin.
Bone-weary, I unlocked my room and pushed through the door, looking forward to bed.
“Psst,” came a hiss from the corridor.
Leaning back, I looked to see Gage coming down the hall, cringing with a goofy look that said he knew he was breaking the rules but didn’t care. It was nearly eleven. The girl’s block was supposed to be off-limits for the boys at this time.
“What are you doing?” I mouthed, smiling in spite of myself.
“I have something for you,” he mouthed back as he closed the distance between us.
My hand hovered on the doorknob, holding my door half open. “What?”
He swooped in and planted a kiss on my mouth, pushing me back into my room. My heart exploded in my chest as fire shot through my tongue and mouth from his kiss. My door thumped against the wall as Gage steered me inside, mouth moving against mine. My breath hitched in the back of my throat as I swallowed a sound of surprise. There was another minor thud as Gage reached a foot back and swung the door shut behind us.
