Waldman picks the lesson back up, but we’re all unsettled. It’s eerily quiet, the aftermath of Helsing’s unhinging. I just flop my head into my arms and bury my face into the warm darkness, where I remain until the end of class.
I think Waldman tries to say something as I pass by her desk later, but I ignore her. When I’m out in the hall, Erin hovers near my elbow, following as I stride purposefully to the residence wing. Sawyer sticks to my other side, trying to make me feel better, I guess.
“He’s so wrong about your parents, Avery,” he says. “They were great. Like, those fights he was talking about? Your dad actually took that manticore on his own, and that was only one that your parents fought. Your mom, she left her team because they sucked. She hunted the chimera—”
“Will you shut up about my parents?” I snap at Sawyer. I know he means well, but sometimes too much is just too much. Shock and surprise register on his face, but that doesn’t stop me.
“I’m so tired of you and everyone else talking about them like you knew them, like you were such good buddies with them or whatever. You weren’t. I didn’t even get to know them, so don’t go acting like you did!” I walk faster, leaving him behind. Erin follows me as she always does. A couple weeks ago that might have bothered me, but she’s like a shadow now.
As soon as we get to our dorm I slam my books down on my desk and collapse onto my bed. I run my fingers through my tangle of hair. How did it get to this point?
No. That answer is simple. I’ve been harassed, berated, forced to suffer through all this torment—and for what? Because my parents seem to have affected every person they met in some profound, conflicting way. For Sawyer, they inspired. For Waldman, they were caring. And for Helsing, well, he made his thoughts clear.
“Am I overreacting?” I ask, staring up at the ceiling overhead. Erin doesn’t answer right away, so I glance over. She’s standing at my desk, reorganizing the books I let tumble to the floor.
As I watch, she lays her notes from class earlier on my desk and starts copying them into one of my notebooks. Her hands are shaking, but for once, she doesn’t look afraid.
I sit up. “Erin? You don’t have to do that.”
She looks at me, and she’s wearing an expression I’ve never seen on her before.
“Erin? You okay?”
“That wasn’t fair of Professor Helsing,” she says quietly. She’s wringing her hands, but her voice is calm. “He shouldn’t yell at people like that. And he should’ve been more sensitive about your parents. So should Sawyer, actually,” she adds. She swallows hard. “Someone ought to talk to Professor Helsing.”
I snort and lay back on my pillows. “Yeah. But who’s gonna do that, really?”
She puts her hands down at her side and juts her chin up. “Me.”
My mouth drops open. Before I find any words, she turns and walks out of our dorm, locking the door behind her.
Warmth floods my chest. Whether or not she actually finds Dr. Helsing and tells him off doesn’t matter. Just leaving, just trying, that is enough. She’s gotten so much braver.
At least one of us has.
Chapter Eleven
Halloween morning dawns cloudy and overcast, as it should. I sit up groggily. I fell asleep in my clothes last night waiting for Erin to come back. She’s in her own bed now, but I can see that she was busy last night before she went to sleep. She insisted on copying all her notes down verbatim as she promised, and even brought some snacks from the dining hall and left them on my desk.
She knows me too well. I’ve just gotten used to not waking up early enough to make it to breakfast before PW. The irony of it is that, for once, today I actually did.
It’s way earlier than I normally wake up, but I’m not tired enough to go back to sleep. I had a fitful night, and it’s left me even more restless than I was last night. I get up, get dressed, and grab a bag of cookies from the pile that Erin left. No need to let them go to waste.
The school is eerily empty. I shove my hands into my hoodie pockets as I make my way through the deserted halls. I haven’t opened the cookies yet; the crumpling bag sounds much too loud in the silence.
I’m not really headed anywhere in particular, so as usual, I somehow wind up in the dining hall.
I fully expect it to be devoid of people this early, so I’m surprised when it’s not. A solitary hulking figure sits alone, turning to look when he hears the door open. Bennett stares at me from the only occupied table.
Immediately, I bristle with anger. It is partly his fault I got chewed out by Professor Helsing last night, and his fault that I haven’t been able to pull ahead of them in the rankings.
Bennett stands up, revealing several empty bowls on the table in front of him. Rather than pouring it out of the dispenser like normal people, he carried the whole thing over to the table with him alo
ng with several empty milk cartons. I guess that explains how he stays so massive.
I’m expecting him to make a show of asking me to leave, but instead he just nods in my direction.
He spreads his hands. “Hey,” he says, not unkindly.