Maybe it was the cold I was getting, or maybe it was just the awful events of Home Ec, but I was feeling pretty low.
Be honest, Kaitlyn, a little voice in my head whispered, You know neither of those things are what’s bothering you.
Yes, if I was honest with myself, I knew the voice was right. What was really bothering me was the way I’d heard Ari and Nancy talking about me after lunch. Though I had told myself I was being foolish and that I was over it, I knew I wasn’t. The proof of that was in what I had done as soon as I came down to the Norm Dorm by myself while everyone else ate dinner up above in the Dining Hall.
I had gone directly to my wardrobe—a rickety wooden one with peeling paint which was what the Academy provided for us Norms. Opening it, I had reached to the very back and pulled out a white uniform shirt—one that was many times too big for me.
It was Ari’s shirt—one he had given me to wear after the awful incident in PE. He had put it on me himself, his hands gentle as he knelt before me and buttoned it up, hiding my scars which had been revealed by the PE shorts and t-shirt I had been forced to wear.
At the time I had been grateful, both for his protection from Sanchez out on the exercise field and for his consideration in helping me hide my shame. But now I knew it had all been a ruse—just a trick to make me think he liked me, doubtless so he and Nancy could do something awful to me in the future.
I had picked the shirt off the hanger, refusing to notice the warm, spicy scent of his skin which still clung to the white cotton fabric. I had no need of it anymore. In fact, I wondered why I had hung onto it for as long as I had.
Marching over to the laundry chute, I opened the metal drawer embedded in the stone wall of the dungeon and let the white shirt drop. It swirled down into the darkness like a ghost disappearing out of my life for good.
I only wished I could get rid of Ari as easily, I told myself as I closed the laundry chute drawer firmly. But I couldn’t help the sharp little pain in my heart as I turned away—couldn’t help wishing that Ari had turned out to be different from the other Drakes who had teased and tormented me…
“I’m so hungry!” Megan said again, drawing me out of my miserable thoughts. “I could eat a whole cow—seriously.”
She was dressed in her robe and slippers and gown as well and so were Emma and Avery. Griffin, who had just come down to join us a moment before, was the only one still in his school uniform. He was sitting in one of the over-stuffed leather chairs across from me, reading a book. Emma, also in her nightclothes, was studying for a test on the other couch.
The reason I was dressed so warmly and sitting much closer than usual to the fire, was simply because I couldn’t seem to get warm myself. I didn’t know what was wrong with me but inside my furry slippers, my toes felt like ice cubes and I was freezing despite wearing two nightgowns under my robe.
Just this stupid cold coming on, I told myself. Although it did seem strange that I still hadn’t started to cough or sniffle. My throat hurt though and I felt horribly thirsty—I had already drunk three glasses of water and was wondering if I would have any room for the roast beef Avery was presently turning on a spit over our small fire.
“The roast will be done in a few minutes,” he told Megan, getting up from the fireside and dusting his hands on his immaculate maroon smoking jacket. “It’s still too rare right now—it’s practically still bleeding.”
At that, my ears perked up for some reason.
“Um, Avery?” I asked, looking up from my corner of the couch. “Could I have some now anyway? I want mine rare.”
“You do?” He looked at me, clearly surprised. “But Katydid, you always ask for yours well-done,” he protested.
“Yeah.” Emma snorted and looked up from her notes. “Kaitlyn only likes beef if you serve it extra crispy.”
“Well, I don’t tonight,” I insisted. “Tonight I want it rare. Please, Avery?” I gave him a pleading look from behind my curtain of hair and he sighed and shrugged his shoulders.
“Anything for you, Katydid. But don’t blame me if it bleeds all over your plate.”
He went back to the roast turning on the spit and got out a large carving knife and one of the lovely china plates from the set he kept in the little cupboard on the wall. He sliced me off a few thin slices and plated them carefully before turning his head.