Professor Montgomery was a Parisian woman in her 70s that had been teaching at Conrad since before Alex was born. She was strict but not nearly as ruthless as everyone thought she was. Still, for the past couple of years, Alex found himself enjoying her class less and less. It just reminded him of how much he missed Monsieur Abbey. About how his mother had brushed off his request to visit him in Cambridge so callously that he never tried to ask again. Sometimes when he sat in her class, he would daydream about making the three-hour train journey on the weekend. He still had his old teacher's address memorized. Of course, he couldn't be sure Monsieur Abbey still lived there. And to find out he would have to blow off his weekend tutoring sessions, which his mother would certainly hear about. He doubted she would be anything less than aggravated to learn where he went instead. So, he always left it as a daydream.
Alex went slightly out of his way to walk Jack to his beginner's Mandarin class. He was only slightly worried his friend would ditch the class, but seeing as how his uncle would blame him if he did Alex didn't feel like taking that chance. It made him have to run to get to his French class, and when he arrived there were only two empty seats left at the front. He rushed to sit down in the seat by the window while Professor Montgomery wrote some notes down on the chalkboard. Just as she was about to turn around to start the lesson, someone else rushed through the door.
"Shoot, I'm not late, am I?"
Alex had been looking down at his bag to take out his books, but his gaze shot up at the familiar American accent. Sure enough, standing in the doorway, his hair still slightly wet from his post-sprinting match shower, was Matthew Montoya.
Professor Montgomery frowned at him. "Young man," she said in French, "in this class, we only speak French. Understand?"
Matthew stared at her with a slightly panicked expression, and Alex tried not to laugh at seeing him thrown off for the first time. He could practically see the gears turning as Matthew translated what their teacher had said to him. The bright look in his eyes when he finally managed to was almost cute.
"Yes. I mean. Oui, Madame. Je vous... demande de... m'excuser."
Montgomery's frown deepened at his lackluster pronunciation. "Take a seat, sir," she said, gesturing to the only empty desk in the room, right next to Alex. That cloud of disdain covered his face again when he finally realized the two of them would be sharing another class.
"Could I-" Matthew started to ask, but Montgomery cut him off.
"If you cannot say it in French, do not say it at all."
Alex wasn't entirely sure if Matthew could understand those instructions, but he seemed to at least get the point of them. He didn't bother to finish his question, and instead silently trudged to the empty seat.
"As I just said to Mr... " Montgomery said to the class, pausing for Matthew to give his name. He didn't realize that's what she was waiting for until the long silence and pointed look.
"Montoya," he muttered.
"As I just said to Mr. Montoya, in this class, we only speak French. You should all be advanced enough for that to not be a problem. And if it is, I suggest you inquire into transferring to a class more suited to your level."
Montgomery was looking straight at Matthew when she said that, and Alex had a feeling she wasn't just talking about her class. While she had been quieter about it than some, Montgomery was one of the teachers who had campaigned against admitting Matthew and the other scholarship students. She wasn't old family- most of the teachers weren't- but Alex had a feeling the school's exclusive reputation boosted her already big ego. If they start opening admittance, then in her eyes she'd become just a bog-standard prep school instructor.
Again, Alex didn't know if Matthew understood her words exactly, but he more than understood her meaning. He gave her a sickeningly polite smile and took out his textbook and pen. Montgomery looked slightly displeased about not convincing him to leave but continued speaking without paying him much attention.
It wasn't exactly a fair callout. About half the students in Montgomery's class couldn't understand her very well. The ones that could be mostly native speakers who didn't want to challenge themselves with a new language class. Montgomery tended to loosen up on her rule when she got frustrated enough. Alex wondered if she would cut Matthew that slack.
To his credit, every time Alex glanced over at him, Matthew Montoya looked extremely focused on what their professor was saying. His notes seemed to be fairly competent when they weren't doodles. Alex thought he was being discreet every time he looked over, but about halfway through the class, he did it only to see Matthew staring directly at him with an annoyed frown. The shock and embarrassment of being caught staring caused a flash of heat to shoot through his body, so intense it manifested in a tiny flame on top of his head. He yelped and quickly stamped out, interrupting Montgomery mid-sentence.
"Are you alright, Mr. Conrad?" She asked pointedly while a few other students poorly stifled their giggles.
"Oui, Madame," Alex muttered. "Désolé."
Alex had a feeling if anyone else had interrupted her she would have chewed them out a bit more. But she tolerated Alex more than others since he was fairly decent in her class. So, she just glared at him for a second longer and then continued with what she had been saying.
Once Alex was sure he wouldn't combust, he brought his hands away from his head and kept his eyes fixed on his desk. He could swear he felt Matthew's angry eyes still on him, but he did everything in his power to keep himself from looking up to check. The only time he raised his head was to pass back the yearly syllabus Professor Montgomery handed out.
By the time Alex had calmed down enough to get to his usual state of daydreaming, Montgomery was dismissing the class. Matthew Montoya managed to get out of his seat quickly enough to be the first out the door. Alex packed up his things a bit more slowly and was still in the room when the classroom's landline started ringing from its perch on the wall.
"Hello?" Montgomery answered in her accented English. "Yes, he is. Of course, sir. Bonne journée." Montgomery hung up the phone and nodded at Alexander, who was about to walk out of the room. "Mr. Conrad, the headmaster would like to meet with you in his office. Immediately."
Alex nodded in response, not exactly surprised by the summons. Hannah had told Mary Somers about their chapel plan during lunch. Three whole classes had passed, so word had probably spread to at least their whole year by now. It only made sense that his uncle had heard whispers of a Plan B for the party already.
"Alexander, you're not going to rat us out, are you?" One of his classmates whispered to him as he walked out the door.
"Yeah, don't ruin the fun," another added.
"Rat you out for what?" Alex said when he noticed Montgomery listening in on their exchange. The two boys noticed and clapped him a little too hard on his back.
"That's the spirit, mate," one said before they walked off. Alex waited until they were out of sight to rub the spot they had hit and headed out of the building. When he reached the front entrance, he spotted Matthew Montoya sitting near the bottom of its grand steps, Baptiste right next to him. Alex walked past as quickly and as far away as possible, but he still heard a snippet of their conversation.
"-should have taken beginner's Spanish," Matthew was saying. "The French teacher thinks I'm an idiot. And she's an ass."
"I heard she has a reputation," Baptiste said, sympathy in his voice. "Maybe I can be your tutor?"
"Hm, is that an excuse for you to spend more alone time with me?"
"Do you want it to be?"
Alex quickened his pace when the tone of their conversation turned flirtatious. Unfortunately, that drew more attention to him. Baptiste turned his head in time to see him zoom by, and he heard his name spoken in a question before he all but ran out of hearing range.
Alex had never spent much time alone with his uncle Thomas. He was pretty sure he never had. The closest he ever came was when Jack had started that "fight" and the both of them were in his office to receive their punishment. After he dismissed Jack, he had Alex hang back for a moment.
"I trust you're aware of how the Farrows hold a higher station than us on the national stage," he said. Alex nodded without a word in response. "This incident changes nothing. Put it behind you."
"Yes, sir," Alex said, trying to keep his voice level. He could still remember the heat that coursed through his body when his uncle had said that. It was different from the heat or small flames he produced because of his powers. Instead, it was just the cold heat that came with rage. There may have been a time when his family capitulating to anyone would have shocked him, but by then he truly understood what his mother had told him the first time she stuck him with Jack. The Farrows had been placed above them by some archaic origins that had no real relevance anymore. But if his family started ignoring that hierarchy, even if for only a few seconds, what was to stop all the wyverns who had been placed below them from doing the same? Bowing to one family was a small price to pay if it helped them maintain their power over everyone else. It was the same logic that ran through the minds of every old family wyvern, and why so many were so vehemently opposed to the concept of letting go of that hierarchy. Lower-status old-family wyverns had to deal with a lot of shit from those above them, but at least they were higher on the ladder than the common masses. Higher than all the "runts" they insisted they were better than.
Alex reached the administrative building in a few minutes. His uncle's office was on the top floor, at the end of a winding staircase. The door was closed when he arrived, but his uncle's assistant was at her desk outside, making notes in a planner. She looked up at the sound of Alex's footsteps and gave him a small smile.
"Afternoon, Alexander," she said. Her name was Emily Faraday, and she had been working for the school since his uncle had been a student. She was one of the few staff that called him Alexander, but he had a feeling it was because she was so used to calling his uncle 'Mr. Conrad'. "How was your first day of lessons? I trust the fact that I didn't get any calls about fights or fires is a good sign?"
"You didn't?" Alex said, causing her to chuckle.
"You sound so surprised. Should I have?"
"No, I don't think so. I mean, I didn't hear about anything. But the atmosphere was so... tense. I was expecting something ."
Mrs. Faraday nodded with a slight frown. "I suppose we've still a long way to go. Plenty of time for that something to happen. You can go ahead in; he's waiting for you."
"Thank you."
Alex opened the door without knocking, hoping his uncle didn't have the same hang-ups about that as his mother did. He didn't seem to, but just like his mother, he didn't glance up when Alex walked in.
"Close the door behind you, Alexander," he said as he was writing something with a fountain pen on a nice piece of stationary. The only time he handwrote anything rather than have Mrs. Faraday type it up for him was when he needed someone to feel they were getting personal attention. Usually, because he needed something from them. "Do you remember who Daisuke Himura is?"
Alex paused to think over the name, lingering by the doorway. "He's married to Alice Tennant," Alex remembered. "Their son is Warren."
"Is that all you know?"
Alex pushed down the wash of shame he felt at his uncle's unimpressed tone. "Yes. Sorry."
Thomas finally looked up with his eyebrows raised slightly. He looked like he wanted to say something, but instead shook his head and gestured to one of the empty chairs across from his desk.
"I suppose knowing his son is important," he continued as Alex crossed the room and sat down. "He is very protective of him, after all. Both he and Alice are. They're very concerned about his safety this year, especially. The boy is a bit of a bleeding-heart pacifist."
"I don't know him that well."
"Mr. Himura seems to think that if the tension in the air boils over, young Warren will get hurt. Several families have that anxiety. Many of them have expressed their hesitation about keeping their children enrolled. Any student pulled is a loss to the community, of course, but if the Himuras leave, they'll be taking their annual donation with them. I trust you understand, then, why convincing them their son is in a safe environment is very important."
"Yes, sir."
"And why, the second any violence breaks out between the two factions we now seem to have, they are likely to no longer take any of my assurances seriously."
"Yes."
"There is more than bad press on the line, Alexander. While our reputation as an institution- as a family- is nothing small, the truth is that we have a lot of money to lose if things start going poorly. This school has never been our family's most profitable venture, sure, but I'll be damned if it turns into a money pit on my watch. I know your mother didn't mention any of this to you. She felt it didn't matter whether or not you knew, she just expects you to follow through on orders without question. But you need to know the reason and logic behind the things we ask of you, don't you? Lest you think we're all just a bunch of paranoid and old-fashioned gits."
"I don't think that," Alexander said at the same time his inner voice quipped, You are.
"Hm," Thomas said, sounding unconvinced. "Nevertheless, I hope you're now motivated to take your job of monitoring Mr. Montoya more seriously than you have been thus far."
"If you called me in here for a mission report, I haven't heard Matthew plotting a coup or anything. I've hardly even seen him. He doesn't like me much."
"To be expected. And what about our other faction? Even if you aren't. . . close to our legacy students, I'm sure they talk more freely around you than their headmaster."
Alex tried not to wince as his inner voice barked out a laugh filled with more delight than Alex had probably felt in his entire life. He said you have no friends, it mocked. He bit down the urge to tell it off, though even if he tried, he doubted he could come up with a good retort. All it did was tell the truth, after all.
"I'll try to listen more carefully from now on, I guess," he said. "But I haven't heard anything so far."
"Not even about Ms. Somers' little festivity?"
"Only that everyone is upset about it being shut down."
"To be honest I've always wanted to, but it was important for morale. Though if it's anything like it was when I was young-" Thomas cut himself off suddenly and cleared his throat. "Well, it's probably not the kind of thing that should go on unregulated under our roof. And it's certainly not an environment where I would trust two warring factions of teenagers to keep level heads. Hard enough when you're all sober and surrounded by adults. You haven't heard any plans for the party to go ahead? Perhaps at another location?"
"No, I haven't." Alex lied, hoping he sounded less shaky than he felt. "But I'll keep an ear out, from now on. I'm not sure how much they'll trust me if they're trying to get away with it, though. Especially since a few of them heard me getting called in here from class. You might have better luck interrogating Julia or Laurent."
"I doubt they would tell me anything."
Ha, he knows you're the pushover in the family, Alex's voice taunted. He was pretty sure he was going to name him AJ. That or arsehole.
"I guess they would want the party just as much as anyone. I'll try to ask Jack, but he might have the same mindset."
"Very well. You may leave now. Wouldn't want you falling behind on your academics."
"Thank you, sir," Alex said, but to his uncle, he might as well have just evaporated. Alex got up and left without another word, his stomach uneasy until he was out and being greeted by Mrs. Faraday's smile.
"He asking about the results of your espionage already?" she said. Her tone was playful, but Alex still felt a flash of embarrassment over being called out.
"Mrs. Faraday," he started quietly, "can I ask you a bit of a personal question?"
"Yes, I'm thirty-seven. I know, I know. I don't look a day over twenty-five, but it's the truth. Got the luck of the draw on good genes, I guess."
Alex let out an unexpected chuckle. "No, not that. It's just. . . You have kids, right?"
"I do. My son is in university in Manchester, and my daughter just had a baby."
"Congratulations."
"Thank you. Was that all there was to your question?"
"Well, all the years you've been working here. . . Did you ever wish your kids could have gone to school here too?"
Mrs. Faraday's smile turned into a contemplative frown. "Sometimes," she said after a long pause. "All the professors have such high-level degrees. Lots of programs and clubs. Security is good. Even the old student dorms are nicer than my flat. But. . . Well, they wouldn't have felt very welcome, would they? Not by most students, at least. I don't know if I would have wanted to send them into a situation like that. It's going to take a long time for that to change."
"Do you think it ever will?"
"Maybe. If enough good young wyverns lead by example. Like you."
Alex heated a little. "I'm not that good," he muttered.
"Nonsense. You are. Just need to work on being a bit braver, maybe."
Alex glanced at the closed door of his uncle's office. "Do you think Mary's party should be canceled?" he asked.
"I think the old family students feel like they need a way to decompress. Taking that away won't exactly help, but if any new students arrive, I'm afraid the way they'll let off steam will get someone hurt."
"The scholarship students want to have their party. A small one, in the McAvoy dormitories."
"That might help."
". . . One of them invited me."
"Will you go?"
"I... I have my language lessons on Saturday. Besides, won't going to theirs cause the same kinds of problems as them going to Mary's?"
"You won't be looking to start any fights, will you?"
"Of course not. That hasn't stopped me from getting pulled into them before."
Mrs. Faraday chuckled, probably recalling when he and Jack got brought by her desk for the world's dumbest fight in history. "True," she said, her voice betraying the smile she had managed to suppress "but you also have a habit of becoming mates with your attackers, don't you?"
"I think that had less to do with the attack and more to do with me telling him off afterward. Jack responds well to self-righteous reprimanding. I don't think that would work in this case, though."
"You could just, you know, talk."
"About?"
"I don't know, what do kids these days talk about?"
"I wouldn't know."
"For most of them, the fact you're trying will be what they care about the most. Yeah, that won't win over everyone, but it'll mean a lot to at least some. Even if it's just one, don't you think that would be worth the effort?"
Alex thought again about that dark-haired boy with freckles from his chemistry class. He again felt his inner voice berate him for not sitting next to him. Just need to work on being a bit braver, maybe.
"I'll think about it," he said, meaning it a little more than when he had said it to Eloise.