Alex was pretty sure he intended to go straight to his dorm when he left the admin building. Well, ran away from is probably the more apt description. He didn't want Sanders and Alvaro to catch up to him. He was sure if he heard either of them ask if he was alright again, he would fall to pieces.
Eventually, he reached a fork in the campus where going right would take him to the dorm, and going left would take him to the school's archery range. The second the split registered in his mind, he heard his uncle's cold voice, repeating those words. He knows how to do as he's told. The dull throbbing on his cheek turned sharp as if the impact was brand new. He brought his hand up instinctively and tensed when he realized that his uncle's ring had caused his lip to split open slightly. The blood had already clotted, but he could feel it pretty easily. He wondered if Sanders and Alvaro had seen it. If that's why their faces had looked so serious.
As he had gained distance from the admin building his anger had dissipated, but now it was raging again. Over being hit. Over his uncle wanting to let Malcolm off easy to save face. Over how confident Thomas had been all it took to keep Alex in line were some harsh words and a good smack. He could feel himself on the verge of combusting, so he gave in to his impulse and went left.
He thought maybe he would have to avoid some other teachers out on patrol, but the only ones he saw were his chemistry professor Baxter and the year eight maths teacher. They both saw Alex wandering around but did nothing. Maybe Alvaro and Sanders were the only ones taking their patrol job seriously. Or maybe they were just the only ones not willing to give Alex a pass on breaking the rules. Either way, the other teachers let Alex be without question. A part of Alex was annoyed by that, but a bigger one was grateful he would be left alone for the moment.
Alex reached the range and headed to the shed where he kept his spare equipment. He grabbed a couple of target sheets and took everything out to the range. He tacked a sheet up to one of the foam rounds and stepped back to the sixty-meter mark. He left his chest and arm guards off, only using his finger tab to pull back the bow.
The first couple of arrows he let fly barely hit the outer rings. He took a few deep breaths and tried to calm down. He tried to push all the things agitating him out of his mind. Tried to forget about his family and their politics, about Malcolm Greene and his cruelty, about Matthew and Eloise and Baptiste, and that one fleeting moment where it felt like they could be real friends. Once his breath was steady, Alex aimed and fired.
He missed completely, hitting a patch of grass 5 meters to the left of the target.
"Oh, piss off," he muttered. Now he could add that shite shot to the list of things he was pissed off about.
Well, you always shoot better when you're upset, AJ said, echoing his old French tutor's observation.
Alex clenched his jaw and let all those frustrations he had just pushed down bubble back to the surface. As he aimed at the target again, he imagined a rotating lineup of faces that had earned his ire. His mother. His uncle. Malcolm Greene. Hannah Palmer. Her friends, even.
The face that always popped up most frequently and most clearly, though, was his own. And when he let loose his arrow and it zipped through the air into the target's bullseye, he was pretty sure it was his own throat he imagined it going through.
Alex lowered his bow and stared at the arrow. All the anger in his body had been fired out along with it, and now he just felt numb. He focused on the brightly coloured fletching and his own self-loathing until the cold morning scene around him faded and blurred. He was sure he was about to slip into his warped reality when a voice pulled him back into the usual one.
" Are you okay, Alexander? " It asked in French. The language and the fact that he had just been thinking about him made Alex think for a moment that the voice belonged to Monsieur Abbey. By the time he realized that assumption was ridiculous, Alex was soundly back in the real world. He turned his head toward the voice and saw Baptiste, dressed in a dark blue long-sleeved shirt and grey joggers. His hair was matted down with sweat and he had a ring of it on his shirt's collar like he had just been running a marathon.
"Yeah," Alex mumbled in the most unconvincing way possible. "A-are you?"
"A little sore. Mostly angry."
"Jack said you got hurt last night."
"It looked worse than it was."
"I- I'm so sorry, Baptiste. I didn't- I should have- I'm sorry."
Baptiste shifted his weight, looking slightly unsure of what to do with the apology. "Was Matthew okay?"
"Physically, I think so."
"That is good, at least."
"Baptiste, I-"
"Apologizing will change nothing, Alex," Baptiste said, his tone slightly bitter. But he made a face like he regretted it immediately after and sighed. "But maybe you do not have anything to apologize for. Maybe we are all just a bunch of frightened children, expecting more from ourselves and our peers than maybe we should."
"No, I messed up. I should have done something."
"You are just a child. Made to fight your ancestors' battle."
"And you guys aren't?"
Baptiste managed a sad smile. " Oui. We are just children fighting children over things beyond any of our control."
"Matthew hates me even more now. I want to fix it, but..." Alex trailed off as a sudden breeze made his lip sting. He brought a hand up to it without thinking, causing Baptiste to notice it for the first time.
"Did that happen to you last night?"
"No," Alex said before he realized he should have just said yes. He tugged on the bow's string. "The bowstring clipped me. I was just careless."
Baptiste looked at the bow and then at the target. "Not that careless, apparently," he said in a way that made it clear he didn't believe him. "Have you been out here long?"
"Just a bit. I... I was in my uncle's office earlier."
"I see," Baptiste said, looking directly at Alex's cut lip.
"What are you doing out here? You look like you've been running."
"I have. I run every morning. I got caught by Coach Sanders and that scary English teacher a couple of hours ago. They looked ready to ship me back to the dorm, but when I told them I just wanted to clear my head after last night, they took pity. Sanders wrote me a note that said I was assigned extra laps as a discipline to show any teachers who tried to stop me while I was out on the track. I have had to show it to quite a few, and most of them radioed him to check it was legitimate as well. I guess they are really worried we will start a riot out here."
Alex let out a puff of annoyance that his suspicion about getting special treatment had been correct. "Mr. Sanders is a good man," Alex said instead of sharing that. "So is the scary English teacher. He's just stoic."
"Those two make odd friends."
"Yeah, but good ones."
"Apparently."
"Does... does Eloise hate me?"
"No, not at all. She was very worried about you. We heard your uncle seemed angry to see you last night."
"Oh," Alex said, clearly disappointed. Baptiste tilted his head.
"You want her to hate you?"
"I just don't think I can... I can't talk with her anymore."
"Why not? If it is because you do not like her as more than a friend, then do not worry. She was worried she may have given you the impression that was all she was interested in. But she would like to be your friend, foremost."
"No, it's not that. I mean, I don't think I like her that. But I do like her as... a friend. I've not got many of those."
"But you want to stop talking to her."
"My uncle thinks that I was... that I was trying to be more than friends with her. And if I deny it, he'll only believe it more."
Baptiste frowned. "And you do not want your family to think you were romantic with a girl like Eloise," he said, almost, sounding hurt. "With a lower wyvern."
Alex's heart felt like it dropped into his stomach. "No, no," he said quickly. "Well, yes, but- It's not because-" Alex grabbed a fistful of his hair and suppressed the urge to shoot himself in the foot. That would be less painful than this conversation.
"Is that where the line is for you? Between our classes?"
"I just don't want her to have another target on her back because of me. I don't think less of her, or that she's beneath me. Please believe that."
"A target," Baptiste repeated. "Your family would hurt her if they thought you were in a relationship?"
"Not physically, I don't think. But they would treat her more awfully than they already do. So would people like Malcolm, or even Hannah."
"Hannah?"
"Palmer. My fiancée. She and my cousin Julia have already been unkind to her for all the standard reasons. I can't imagine what they might say or do if they thought we were involved."
"And if you continue to socialize with her," Baptiste worked out, "they will continue to make that assumption."
"Yes."
"... Is that why your lip got hurt?"
Alex's body heat flared slightly at being called out for his lie. He thought about insisting it was the bow again but figured it best to just drop it. "No," he said. "This was because of what happened last night. Or, because of what I tried to tell my uncle about last night. He doesn't want to punish Malcolm and his friends for fighting, because that means having to acknowledge there was a fight. Which would make him look bad, and make some old family parents start pulling their kids. And their money."
Baptiste's blue eyes almost seemed to get darker. "Those bastards are getting away with what they did? " he said in French. " They almost killed Matthew !"
"I know. I tried to tell him, but he didn't want to hear it. He just- well, you know."
"So, they will just let them waltz around their day tomorrow?"
"Well, Malcolm did break the rule about changing without permission. The punishment for that is two weeks of in-school suspension. But, other than that, yeah. They will."
Baptiste looked ready to fight someone himself, but his expression shifted suddenly. From angry to panicked, or maybe even guilty. "I am sorry," he said. "I got worked up and used my powers without meaning to. Désole ."
"It's alright," Alex said, a little confused as to why he was so apologetic about it. "Happens to me all the time."
"Some feel it is invasive, me feeling their emotions almost like I am reading their minds. Sorry."
"It's alright, Baptiste. Sometimes it's nice to have someone know how you feel."
"Sometimes. And you are just as upset about this as I am. Maybe even more so."
"I don't know about that."
"I do," Baptiste said with a smile. "In a different way, though. Angry, but... defeated."
"That does sound about right."
"I am sorry your family makes you feel that way."
"I'm used to it."
"You should not be, Alexander."
Alex squirmed slightly under Baptiste's earnest expression. "Have you been able to control your powers well this past week?" he asked to change the subject. "I was thinking it might be difficult for you, to be in tune with emotions when so many are negative right now."
"I have not slipped up much. But the couple of times I have... were not pleasant. That boy hurt Matthew. His name is Malcolm?"
"Yes."
"I accidentally felt his, once. He has... so much malice. And at the moment, it was all directed at me. I do not know what I did to make him hate me specifically so much."
"He said something about his fiancée, right? At the party."
"I do not know who she is! And I certainly do not want to have sex with her. I have never been one for women."
"Her name is Opal Kent. Brunette with green eyes, almost as tall as I am."
"Oh, she is in my Spanish class. She is too pretty to be dating someone as ugly as him."
"Well, first of all from what I've heard she isn't so pretty on the inside. And I wouldn't call what they do dating. They act like a couple, sometimes. But they're not exactly monogamous. I guess they figure there will be time for that later. And even though Malcolm doesn't hesitate to pursue other girls, he gets jealous when she flirts with other guys."
"She did seem... overly friendly to me."
"That's probably why he's so hostile, then. He came close to going after my cousin, Laurent when Opal showed an interest in him last year."
"I can imagine he loves that with me he can... What is that English phrase? Punch down?"
"Yeah, that's how Jack phrased it too. I would suggest not doing anything that might encourage Opal, and hope she moves on to someone else that Malcolm can direct his anger at."
"A shame, that there are so many forbidden romances abound." Baptiste glanced at his clunky digital watch. "I suppose I should head back. Still have to study for that dreaded chemistry quiz. You wouldn't happen to be able to direct me back to the dorm, would you?" Baptiste smiled sheepishly. "I only ended up here because I got lost."
Alex couldn't help but smile, at Baptiste's smile and the memory of their first meeting. It was hard to believe it had been a week ago.
"Of course," Alex said and gave him the directions as best he could. A part of him wanted to walk back with him, but he didn't know if Baptiste would want that. And he didn't want to deal with the awkwardness of being shot down. So, he let Baptiste go off by himself and stayed back on the range.
Alex continued to shoot for a little while longer, but his anger didn't rise high enough to make him a very good shot. Not that he should be relying on rage above his actual skill. Maybe he didn't have any, and he was just always angrier than he realized.
After about thirty minutes of putting almost ten years' worth of lessons to shame, Alex decided to pack it up. He collected all of his scattered arrows and the target sheet, briefly seeing his imaginary face in the hole-filled paper again. He didn't quite feel like murdering himself anymore, so he supposed something was accomplished. Unfortunately, the lack of anger was letting that defeated despair that Baptiste had accidentally tapped creep back in.
Once he cleaned up his mess Alex trudged back toward his dorm, this time not running into another soul. He was too deep in his mental wallowing to be very aware of his surroundings, and before he knew it, he was entering the lobby. Only a second after walking through the front doors, he heard Jack calling his name. He snapped out of his haze to see his friend running to him, still dressed in his pyjamas.
"Hey," he said, practically crashing into Alex. "Where were you? I went to your room and- What happened to your face?"
Jack tried to grab Alex's chin to get a better look at his cut, but Alex swatted his hand away. "It's nothing," Alex muttered. "I went to the archery range after I met with my uncle. He wanted to hear why we were there, and what I saw."
"And?"
"And he didn't care what I had to say. He just wanted to hear it so he would know whether or not to tell me to keep my mouth shut around anyone else."
"I see," Jack said, his gaze on Alex's lip still. "I take it Malcolm won't be getting expelled from them."
"My uncle's argument is the only rule he broke was changing, so no."
"Fuck."
"Yeah." Alex glanced around the empty lobby. "Have you been waiting down here long?"
"About an hour. Warren told me there was a daytime curfew, so I didn't go out looking for you."
"Jonathan Farrow following a rule?"
"I know, I know. You're becoming a terrible good influence on me."
"Did you notice if Matthew came back?"
"He did. About twenty minutes ago. He looked like a zombie, so I figured it was best not to say anything to him."
"Wise. Would it be alright if I spent the day at yours?"
"Of course."
"Wait. Damn. My homework is still in my room."
"I can get it for you."
"... No," Alex said after fighting the instinct to say yes right away. "I should get it. I'll have to go back eventually."
"I don't know, I feel like you and I could pretty easily pull a Parent Trap style switch or something."
"What-"
"It's a movie about twins switching places. I can do your accent and everything."
"I think there are a few more obstacles on our road to being twins, Jack."
"Excuse me if I don't see colour."
Alex rolled his eyes and let Jack continue to explain the plot of the film as they walked to and rode the elevator up. Alex got off first after declining Jack's offer to at least go with him. He felt confident with his decision until he heard the elevator doors close behind him. Then the hallway to his flat suddenly looked a lot more intimidating than it had before. He forced himself to continue forward to his door but stopped himself from opening it when he heard Matthew's voice on the other side. It was soft and soothing like he was trying to calm someone down.
" Si, si," he was saying. " Estoy bien, mami. Solamente era una broma . Some bobos trying to rile us up. They didn't do anything too bad. One of them broke the stereo you gave me, though. Luckily one of Dad's tapes wasn't inside... No, Judas Priest. I was only playing it to annoy a friend... I know, I know. I'm an awful friend... Yes, ma, I'm fine. And he gave me money to replace it. Too much. I have a feeling the guy has never walked into a RadioShack and seen how much they go for... No, probablemente voy a comprar el mismo modelo . Maybe the newer version. But I'll still have a lot left over... I was thinking of... Well, I could give it to you... Para la medicina de Athena. But ma, I... It's so much! He gave me like one grand... Because he's a spoiled rich kid! I don't need it, ma... Come on, mami, let me help! Let me use that company's money to do something important... No es más importante de mi hermana ... No, I- I'm sorry, ma. Sorry... Yeah, I'm fine... Lo juro, lo juro. Just tired... I was too worked up to sleep last night. Yeah... yeah, okay. Tell Dad and Thena I said hi... She's what? Attie? That sounds stupid... Yes, tell her I said that... Love you too, ma."
Matthew must have hung up the phone because, after a beat of silence, he let out an exasperated sigh. Alex definitely should not have heard that. It was surprising enough to hear Matthew had a sister, but apparently, she was sick. Sick sufficient that one thousand pounds would help buy her medication. And why would Matthew lie to his mother? Tell her the same lie that Thomas wanted to perpetuate. Did Thomas make him? Was that part of the reason Malcolm had given him so much? But Matthew didn't seem like the kind of person who would agree to that. Was he just that scared? Or desperate for money, because his sister needed it?
Alex was already unsure he could face Matthew again so soon, but right after eavesdropping? He didn't have half the nerve he needed to do that. So, Alex backed away from the door and all but ran back to the elevator, so he could go hide in Jack's room for the rest of the day.
What'll you do tomorrow? AJ asked. Not even in a snarky way, just a genuinely curious one.
"That's a problem for tomorrow's Alexander, isn't it?" Alex muttered under his breath.
Heh. You're right. Fuck that guy.