While Alex had heated the food, Matthew took a seat on the floor in front of the sofa. Alex smiled to himself at Matthew's habit of not utilizing furniture and joined him there, pulling the coffee table closer so it could be their makeshift dining space. Matthew ate his half of the paella so quickly Alex was almost expecting him to throw it back up. He didn't, by some miracle. Instead, he tore through his half of the tarte Tatin and then half a bag of dry cereal by the time Alex was taking his fifth bite.
"That was way better than any of the stuff they've fed us so far," Matthew said around a mouthful of brightly coloured loops. "They have been holding out on us?"
"It's Chef Jerimiah's speciality," Alex said. "He trained under a chef from Spain who's famous for it. He doesn't make it very often."
"My abuela would kill for the recipe."
"I can get it for you if you'd like."
Matthew raised an eyebrow. "He'll just give it to you?"
"He's offered it to me before," Alex said quickly, not wanting Matthew to think he'd bully Chef for some rice. "Since he knows it's my favourite."
"Wait, did he make this today just for you?"
"I think so."
"You didn't even ask him for it?'
"No. I didn't order any lunch at all. He was just kind enough to bring it by."
"Huh. That's..."
"It's what?"
"Nothing, it's just... Well, not to make everything about me, but now I feel even worse for acting like a dick. I mean, you are a good guy, aren't you? For him to care about you like that."
"I- I think he just- Well, he works for my family. He's just being polite."
"I think you have people around you that care for you more than you realize. Bringing food is one of the most common ways of showing affection, after all."
"What?"
"Warm beverages also count."
"Warm beverages?"
"Yeah. A cup of coffee. Some hot cocoa. Tea, if you're into that crap."
Alex smiled. "I'm Indian and British, so honestly, I don't have much of a choice. It's in my veins at this point."
"My point is someone is going out of their way to show you they're thinking of you. Especially in moments where maybe words aren't sufficient."
"I... yeah, I get that," Alex said, his mind going to his father. When he would make him chai not really with the expectation that he would drink it, but in the hopes that he'd see it and know Alex had been there.
" Maybe Jerry is just trying to kiss ass, but I don't know. He didn't strike me as that kind of guy."
"Sorry, did you just call Chef 'Jerry'?"
"Yeah. Jerry. I talked to him after he made those carne asada tacos the second week. Almost as good as my dad's. I'd bet he's the only British guy who knows how to make good Mexican food. Ellie tried to take me to this place in Brighton. God, what they did to my burrito should be illegal."
Alex shook his head, still bewildered at that nickname. "He must like you if he lets you get away with calling him that."
"Oh, I'm sure he does. I'm delightful."
"Hm. And humble."
"Thank you for noticing."
Alex took a few more bites but couldn't help but notice Matthew was watching him very intensely. He put down his spoon and scooted the plate over to him.
"Go ahead," he said when Matthew looked at him with a question in his eyes. "I'm getting full."
"Are you sure? I don't want to pressure you or anything. He made it for you."
"I'm sure. Go ahead."
Matthew looked like he wanted to debate further, but he wanted the paella more. He picked up his spoon and attacked the remaining rice.
"Your grandmother likes to cook?" Alex asked as he started on his share of the tarte Tatin. He didn't know why he didn't want them sitting in silence. It wasn't tense, exactly. Maybe there was a part of him that was worried things could still go wrong, so he wanted to talk to Matthew as long as he could manage.
"Don't all?" Matthew said, having the manners to cover his mouth as he talked around his rice.
"I don't think my grandmother ever stepped foot in a kitchen."
"Really? No home-baked crumpets from Granny Conrad?"
Alex let out a snort of laughter. "No, and I think she would have bit my head off if I ever called her that."
"Sorry, your granny was so lame, then. My abuela's cool as shit. She owns her restaurant in San Fernando now. Runs it with my tío. They wanted my dad to run it with them too, but he's too in love with his music. My abuelo was hard on him for that for a while. Less so now that he has a quote-unquote real job."
"What does he do?"
"He's the music teacher at my old middle school. Plus, the soccer coach. Plus, the on-site substitute teacher. They make him do more than they should. My mom keeps telling him he should go back to school for a school admin credential. She thinks he'd be good at it. But right now, any time he doesn't spend working or taking care of my family he's working on his band."
"He's got a band?"
"Yup. With his childhood friends. He's the pianist and lead songwriter. That was actually how he met my mom. At one of his shows in this little bar in Burbank. They go back every year for their anniversary."
"That's so sweet."
"They are obnoxiously in love. This year my dad's going to surprise her with a solo performance there. He never performs on his own, but my mom likes it when he sings... You do have a nice voice, by the way."
"What?"
"You're singing. I know I was being sarcastic shit at the party, but it's very beautiful."
"Oh," Alex said, warming a little bit. It felt different than his usual embarrassed heat, though he couldn't figure out why. "Thank you."
"That song you sang, it was one of my dad's."
"Really?"
"Yeah. That paranoid part of my brain thought that somehow you knew that. That you were trying to get on my good side and pretending to like it. Again, when I say it out loud it sounds ridiculous."
"No, that song is really beautiful. He and his band are very good."
"Thanks. I'll tell him they got a new fan. The band's name is Charon's Ferry, by the way. To answer your question from like, four weeks ago."
"Does he perform with them often?"
"Less than he used to, but yeah. Once a month at least. And if they can't get a gig, they'll at least play in his little makeshift studio in our garage. I think when he was younger, he had this vision of being a giant rockstar. But now he's just happy so long as he's making any music." Matthew smiled with a fondness Alex hadn't seen from him yet. "I think he has the most fun making dumb songs for my sister. Course I always thought it would be cool if I could have told people my dad was a famous musician. Or if he could work on scores for movies and TV. Like Danny Elfman or something."
"Who?"
"Danny Elfman," Matthew repeated like that was a sufficient explanation. Alex just blinked at him. "Come on, you know him. The Simpsons?" Alex blinked again. "Pee-Wee's Big Adventure?" Alex shook his head. "Oingo Boingo!"
"Okay, now you're just making up sounds."
Matthew shook his head in disappointment. "Christ, you have no pop culture knowledge at all do you?"
"Not."
"Don't even know who The Beatles are."
"I know The Beatles!"
"Not the bugs, Allie. The bugs are different. I'm talking about the band, comprised of four men. Spelt like B-E-A-T. It's a pun, you see, because they're a band-"
"I know ."
Matthew chuckled, very amused with himself. "Oingo Boingo is also a band. I'll play you some of their stuff sometime. If you like my dad's music, you'll probably like theirs."
"Do you play any instruments?"
"Piano and guitar mostly," Matthew said, rubbing a couple of his fingertips together. Alex realized his callouses must have been from the guitar. "I'm taking music theory as an elective, but I haven't gotten the chance to play since I got here. Had to leave my guitar back home." He smirked. "Lucky you. Gave me one less weapon to annoy you with."
"You're that bad, huh?"
"Um, no, I am amazing. It's the best musicians who know how to make the worst sounds."
"Hm. Is that what you tell yourself?"
Matthew held out his spoon like a weapon, a playful smile on his lips. "Do not question my skills, Alex," he said. "If I had my guitar with me I would blow your mind right here, right now."
"You can rent a guitar from the music department."
"Really?"
"They have pianos, too. In soundproof rooms, you can book time in."
"Huh. Maybe I'll look into that. Could be dangerous for my grades, though. I could very easily spend all my time fucking around with them."
"Do you want to be a rockstar someday?"
Matthew shook his head. "Nah, I play for myself, mostly. The only time I even perform is with this cultural mariachi group my mom signed me up for when I was a kid. It's a little embarrassing, but she loves it. I have the most fun just writing melodies with my dad."
"Do you sing?"
"Very poorly, but yes."
"I'm sure you're better than you think."
"I'll try not to sing in front of you so you can keep that delusion intact."
"Do you know what you want to do after school?"
Matthew smirked around his last bite of food. "You're asking a lot of questions, Allie. When's it my turn?"
"Sorry, I didn't mean to... Sorry."
"It's fine. I suppose your mystique is part of your charm."
Was that him calling you charming? AJ asked as Alex tried not to heat up at that thought. "I'm not that interesting," Alex mumbled.
"Well, what do you do in your free time? If you don't listen to music or watch TV or movies or play video games or sports or-"
"I get it, thank you."
Matthew chuckled as he put the spoon down across the empty plate. "I mean, it can't all be school and extra lessons for you... What about horses? You like them, right? At least, you must go to the stables a lot."
"How do you know that?"
"Once again, sorry for being a dick that day and making you feel like you had to leave. When you did the horses in there were disappointed you were leaving so soon. That one foul-mouthed one called me some colourful things for kicking you out. But you must go there a lot if they all like you so much."
"Popcorn just likes getting snacks from me."
"And you know all their names, don't you?"
"I do... I guess I do spend a lot of time in there. I'm not a skilled rider or anything. They're just good company. And they remind me of my dad." Alex paused for a second, surprised he had mentioned his father without hesitation. "He loves animals, especially the horses we have back home."
"How many do you have?"
"Well, there are a bunch that are housed on the property, but I only think of two as being mine. Amita and Mani."
"Horses are too smart for me. They know too much."
"Afraid they'll rise?"
"They could if they wanted to."
"I'll watch my back from now on then."
"Eh, they'd probably spare you. Is that it? School and horses?"
"I practice archery," Alex said.
"Archery? Like a bow and arrow?"
"Yes."
"For hunting?"
"No, I don't think I have the stomach to kill anything. I just shoot at stationary targets."
"Do they have competitions for that?"
"Yeah. Our school has a team. We compete in the spring."
"Huh. Never really thought about that as a sport before."
"Are you going to join the school's football club? You're really good."
"I've thought about it, but... I don't know. The atmosphere isn't exactly conducive to being a team player around here. Plus, I really should stay focused on my grades right now. Especially French. Alvaro's class is melting my brain a little too. I slip up too much and your family will be able to get rid of me by October."
"What do you mean?"
"Our scholarships. They're contingent on maintaining a certain grade average throughout the year. We get reviewed every half-term."
"That seems so stressful."
Matthew shrugged, but Alex could see faint signs of worry in his eyes. "I'm alright in most of my classes, it's just those two that are tripping me up right now."
"I could... help. If you wanted me to."
"Yeah?"
"French is my best. I'd say I'm decent in English."
"I've always managed to bullshit my way through English before, but Alvaro is a tough grader."
"What did you get on his last quiz?"
"Eighty-nine."
"Really? You're doing great, then."
"What did you get?"
"Ninety-four."
"See, I have a compulsive need to be better than everyone," Matthew said with a self-aware smile. "So that simply won't do. I think I've been spoiled by my old teachers' low expectations."
"They were that bad?"
"There were a few good ones, but most just didn't care, you know?"
"I think some of the professors here care a little too much. About the wrong things at least."
"Yeah, I've noticed. Baxter, especially. And Montgomery, of course. That woman wishes she could kick me out of here herself. At least in Baxter's class, I can shut him up when I answer his asinine questions correctly."
"I'm sorry they're making all this harder for you."
Matthew shrugged. "It's nothing I didn't expect, really," he said, trying to sound nonchalant. "We're talking about me again. You're good at making conversations not about you, aren't you?"
"Like I said, I'm not that interesting."
"How long have you been doing archery?"
"About seven years."
"Are you good?"
"I'm alright, I guess."
"Do you win your competitions?"
"Usually, yeah."
"So, are you just being humble or does everyone else just suck?"
"No, no. Everyone is really good."
"So, you're the best."
"It sounds boastful when you say it like that."
"Not if it's true. Trust me, I talk about how much better and cooler I am than everyone all the time."
"Yes, I've noticed. It doesn't make you come across as arrogant at all."
"Thank you. Hmm, what else can I ask you? Mind if I break out the icebreakers?"
"Icebreakers?"
"Yeah. Like, what's your favourite colour?"
"Orange."
"That's an unusual one."
"It's because I liked Bengal tigers when I was younger. I..."
"You what?"
Alex warmed up enough for Matthew to have to feel uncomfortable, but he didn't move further away. "I was fascinated by them because I read that they primarily lived in India, and... Well, it was the first time I think I realized I was Indian. Half, at least. I never feel it, though. I try to, but... Never mind."
"You feel like a pretender?" Matthew suggested. "Like you don't fit on either side?"
"...Yeah," Alex said, a little bit of relief flooding into his chest. He had never really voiced that to anyone before.
"Lots of mixed kids feel like that. It's okay to not have it all figured out."
"I just wish... I know my dad wanted me to know about all that stuff. His culture. His religion. His family. I've only ever met them once. I barely remember that trip. I was so shy I spent most of my time hiding behind my dad. I think by the end of it my cousin Hema managed to drag me out of my shell a bit, but I haven't talked to her since. My dad wanted us to go back to New Delhi every year, but then he got sick, and..." Alex's throat tightened and his tear ducts reminded him that they weren't empty. "Sorry," he mumbled as he wiped away the couple of tears that managed to escape.
"Don't be, Alex. It's not fair when illness fucks with your plans like that."
"I just wish there was more I could do for him."
"Yeah. I feel that way with my sister a lot... I want to go to med school, to answer your question from before. After I graduate. I'll be a paediatrician. Hopefully."
"I can see you being good at that."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah... Thank you. For not asking about my dad. He's... It's..."
"None of my business," Matthew finished. "No need to thank me."
"I'm sorry that he scared you."
"I was mostly just worried about him. He sounded scared."
A very small part of Alex was tempted to tell Matthew everything right then. About his father's problems with his visions and why he seemed so terrified. Was it even fair of him to keep it a secret, if there was a possibility there was more danger out there? Was it fair of him to start a panic if his father's warning hadn't meant anything?
"He... he loses touch sometimes," Alex decided to say. "With reality. He was confused. He- he's safe now."
Are we? AJ wondered.
"Are you sure there's no way you can visit him when the lockdown ends?"
"No. My mother said I need to stay here, so... I will."
Matthew frowned and shook his head. "Alex, haven't you ever..."
"Ever what?"
"Never mind. You just said like ten minutes ago that you didn't want to talk about your family. Sorry."
"It's alright. You can ask."
"Haven't you ever done anything your mom told you not to? Or not do something she told you to? A little teenage rebellion isn't the worst thing in the world. It's healthy, even. Especially when it doesn't even seem like she bothers to explain her rules to you."
"I... I don't think so," Alex admitted, feeling pretty pathetic about that.
"Really? Not even when you were really little? I mean, my sister's great, but she would throw the worst tantrums over the dumbest things. From ages two to five. You never gave your mom shit back then?"
"Well, I was sick when I was little. Until I was three. I don't remember her being around much. Just my dad and the doctors. My mother didn't start paying me much attention until I was about six. Even then it was mostly Pamela taking care of me."
"Pamela?"
"My nanny."
"Ah. Right. Rich person."
"My mother's not the type to deal with a terrible toddler phase." She barely deals with you now, mate. "I guess... There was once. When I broke a rule."
"Yeah?"
"When I was five. I had heard my dad trying to convince her to let him get a dog. As a house pet, not one for guarding or hunting. She said no. That she never wanted a dog in the house. My dad was upset but didn't argue. A couple of weeks later this little mutt made his way onto the property. I snuck him into the house to try and take him to my dad, but he ran wild. Got mud everywhere. My dad helped me corral him, and he tried to clean it up before my mother saw it. But she happened to come through that section of the house and got furious. My dad took the blame. Made up a story about the dog being hurt so he was just trying to help it. I don't think it was even the mess that made her angry. She didn't have to clean it up, after all. It was just the fact that someone had the nerve to ignore her."
"Your dad's a real one for covering for you."
"He could tell how scared I was of her. And... Well, he knows how to handle her fury better than I could."
"Your folks seem like an odd pair," Matthew observed. "I mean, your dad sounds so nice, and your mom sounds..."
"Yeah," Alex said, his voice bitter. "The opposite. Their marriage was arranged, long before they had ever even met."
"You guys like doing that, huh?"
"The only old family couple I can think of that weren't pre-arranged is Mr. Alvaro's parents. And they caused a fair amount of scandal when they did that."
"Yeah, I think I remember my parents talking about that when they saw his name on the faculty list. People got all bent out of shape because they were interracial, right?"
"Yeah. I guess now it's a bit less proper to have public objections about that. Though I know people said the same kind of stuff about my own parents' marriage in private. My grandfather among them."
"Wasn't he the one who did the arranging?"
"Only to quell a scandal over some things the Conrads were involved with in India. The Joshis are very well regarded there, so if they 'forgave' the Conrads with a gesture like that, then others would follow. The ones who mattered to my family, at least. I'm sure there are plenty who still hold on to that anger. They probably should."
"Do you know who you're going to get engaged to?"
"I've been engaged since I was six. To a girl named Hannah Palmer."
"Hannah Palmer... Wait, that skinny girl with black hair? The one who keeps making fun of Ellie?"
"Yes. I wish I could stop her from doing that, but she never listens to me. She only ever even talks to me when she wants something or feels like entertaining herself."
"She's in my chemistry class. She seems awful."
"She is."
"How are you supposed to spend the rest of your life with someone you don't even like?"
"Liking your spouse has nothing to do with it. It's about status and offspring."
"Offspring," Matthew repeated, scrunching his nose like he smelled something unpleasant. "What a cold way to talk about having kids."
"I think cold is an apt way to describe the whole process."
"Are you all just secretly miserable?"
"I wouldn't say that. A lot of old family wyverns aren't bothered by those things. At least, they act like they aren't. It's just the way it's done, you know? The price you gotta pay to stay in the club. Some get lucky. My Aunt Claire truly loves her husband. Their marriage was arranged. And they both love their kids. They all seem very happy."
"But you don't even want to be in the club, do you?"
"I don't seem to be enjoying myself very much, no."
"So, then what do you get out of it?"
Anxiety and depression, mostly, AJ answered.
"It's the lot I've got," Alex said with a shrug. "Don't feel bad for me. Lots of kids have it worse."
"That's not a reason to not want better for yourself," Matthew said, his expression turning serious. "Why can't you choose to live your life the way you want?"
"I don't even know what it is I want."
"But you do know it's not what your family has planned, right?"
"I do, but..."
"But?"
"I always stop myself from thinking about it, because I know even if I figure it out, I'll never get it. At least now I'm not going mad longing for some specific alternative I can't have. My dad wanted to be a vet, but his family didn't think that was respectable enough. So they pressured him to be a surgeon. He got sick before he finished his program, but I remember how sad he was about having to give up on that. I think I'd rather not torture myself with daydreams."
"They don't have to be daydreams."
"Matthew-"
"Just- just humour for a second," Matthew insisted, turning himself so that his body was facing Alex directly. "What would happen if you told your family to screw it and did what you wanted? If you didn't marry Palmer or got whatever job you wanted?"
"My mother would drag me back by my teeth. If she didn't kill me first."
"Why does she care so much? It's not like there's a shortage of Conrads around to be cogs in the machine."
"Because it's about who's the head of the family."
"What is this The Godfather ?"
"What's-"
"A movie. About a crime family. Putting it on the list."
"Like the mafia?"
"Exactly the mafia. You make your family sound like the mafia."
Alex smiled at the comparison. "Not far from the truth, I think," he said. "It matters a lot to my mother that my grandfather chose her as his successor over her siblings. Especially Thomas. He's the oldest, and I think he always expected he would win. But Alistair chose my mother. If one of my cousins ended up succeeding her rather than her child... Well, she would never let something like that happen. I'm her only kid, so..."
"So, it's all on you," Matthew finished.
"Yeah."
"And that's it? You'll just marry Hannah Palmer, have a bunch of 'offspring', and let your mother's will steer the rest of your life?"
Matthew was looking at Alex like he was expecting him to argue that. Like he desperately wanted him to. But instead, Alex just nodded.
"Yeah," he whispered. "That's it."
Matthew sat with that answer for a bit. He looked disappointed, and Alex felt the need to apologize for that. Genuinely apologize. He hated that the truth was so disappointing. Matthew spoke again before he could.
"Well," he started, looking a little unsure of himself, "I don't know if this is worth much, but... I think you'll be a great dad."
Alex's gut twisted with anxiety. He didn't like to think about becoming a father. He knew he was primed for disaster. But Matthew meant it as a compliment, which made his gut twist with something else.
"Thanks," he said, hoping all that twisting didn't make him throw up. "You're wrong but thank you."
"Hey, I am a genius, remember?" Matthew said slowly. "That means, factually, that I am right ninety-nine per cent of the time."
"That seems unrealistic-"
"Ninety. Nine. Per cent."
"Then this is one per cent time," Alex said with a chuckle. "I have never once cared for a child. I think I've held a baby once in my life."
Matthew waved his hand dismissively. "That stuff you can learn on the job," he said. "Plus there's loads of books and shit."
"You have a lot of experience with fatherhood, do you?"
"I do. My sister- her name's Athena, by the way. In case you want to add that to your spy file. She's six. I've been helping out pretty much since she was born. My parents are both great, but they both work a lot, so I had to step up. Anyway, the technical stuff is no big. You learn it all as you go, and babies are sturdier than they look. But what's important is you. How you treat them and care for them. Care about them. And you... you care about people. People you don't even know that well. I can't imagine how much you'll care about your kid."
"I don't know how true that is, but thanks."
"...Baptiste knew it was true," Matthew said. Alex tried not to flinch at the sound of his name. "I thought he was just exaggerating because he wanted me to like you. But he told me that when he used his powers around you, it was comforting. To know there was someone nearby who just so selflessly cared."
"He mentioned that to me," Alex said. "When I walked him back to his dorm from Dr. Bayer's office. I didn't believe him either."
"Well, I do now. And I think you should too. Baptiste is... was... not the type to be disingenuous about things like that. I should have listened to him soon enough for him to say 'I told you so'."
Matthew started tearing up again, and Alex braced himself in case he needed to be a shoulder to cry again. He was more than willing, but he wasn't exactly sure he could manage to keep himself together again. Matthew flicked at the few tears that managed to escape and composed himself.
"What do you think happened?" Matthew whispered, and Alex knew right away they were talking about how Baptiste had ended up on that walkway.
"I don't know," Alex said, not sure if he should suggest any of the theories that he had discussed with himself. The look on Matthew's face made it clear he had spent his afternoon mulling over those same theories.
"Do you... do you think that he-"
Matthew was cut off by the sudden sound of sharp tapping on the glass. They both jumped slightly and turned their heads to the flat's window, but the curtains had been drawn to cover it. After a few seconds of silence, Alex was about to guess that it had been a wayward bird, but then it started up again. Loud, consistent, and deliberate tapping that was coming from outside the window.
"What the hell?" Matthew muttered, getting up. He drew back the curtain and jumped when he revealed the source of the noise. A dark green wyvern about the size of a housecat was perched on the windowsill. Their golden eyes were wide, and they scratched frantically on the glass when they made eye contact with Matthew.
"Do you know who that is?" Alex said, getting to his feet. Their size meant they had to be one of the scholarship students, but he hadn't seen any of them change yet.
"I think... Ellie?" Matthew said, loud enough to reach the wyvern through the barrier of the window. They nodded and stopped scratching.
Matthew unlatched the window and opened it enough for the wyvern to rush in. Once inside their small frame shimmered and grew until Ellie's familiar form was standing in their lounge. Her hair was in a haphazard bun, and she was wearing an oversized hoodie paired with colourful pyjama pants that almost covered her bare feet.
"Matt!" Ellie breathed out, sounding winded like she had sprinted from her dorm. She shot towards him and pulled him into a hug that looked too tight to be comfortable. Matthew returned it, but his grimace confirmed that it was tight enough to be painful. "Thank God you're alright."
"What are you doing here?" He wheezed out. Ellie released him from the hug as quickly as she had grabbed him. Alex thought it was because she realized her strength, but it was so she could glare at Mathew.
"What do you think I'm doing here? Do you have any idea how mad I've been going all day? Everyone at McAvoy has been freaking out. Rumours are going around like wildfire. None of the faculty are telling us anything. And I can't even ring you because you never bothered to give me your direct line. Even though I gave you mine three weeks ago, not that you would know it from how you refused to utilize it today!" Ellie shoved Matthew's shoulder, but it was with considerably less strength than her hug. "Dick."
"Sorry, Ellie. I... It's been a crazy day. I was in the nurse's office most of it."
"What? Why? What happened?"
"Hey, hey, calm down. I'm fine, I was just sick."
"Sorry," Ellie said, taking a shaky breath. It sounded like it was shaking for a reason other than exhaustion. "Sorry. It's just... People have been saying crazy shit all day about why we're on lockdown and when you weren't calling I just... I thought of all the worst possibilities."
"I'm sorry. You're right, I should have called you when I got back. I thought about it, but..." Matthew trailed off, his eyes meeting Alex's. Alex knew right away why he couldn't finish the thought. He hadn't called Ellie because he didn't know how to tell her what had happened to her friend. He still didn't know.
Their silent exchange made Ellie realize for the first time that Alex was in the room too. She moved towards him like she wanted to hug him too but stopped short. "I'm glad you're okay too, Alex," she said. It was the first time they had spoken directly since they agreed to keep their distance. "You... are okay, right?"
"What rumours have you heard?" Alex said instead of answering.
Eloise stiffened at his tone, looking back and forth between him and Matthew. It took her less than five seconds to figure them out. "You two know what happened, don't you?" Neither of them said anything right away. Eloise advanced on Matthew. "Chidi said Baptiste hadn't been back to their flat all day. Have you heard from him? Was he in the infirmary too?" Matthew looked down at a spot of nothing on the floor. "What happened, Matt?"
Matthew swallowed hard and looked up. "Ellie," he started gently, reaching out a hand toward her. She lightly smacked it away.
"Damn it, Matthew, don't patronize me! Just tell me."
Even from a distance, Alex could see tears welling up in his eyes. Ellie's own eyes widened slightly, and Alex could tell she knew then what the answer to her question was. He could still feel it hanging in the air, so he spoke just to get rid of the weight of it.
"I'm so sorry, Ellie," he said, his heart wrenching when she looked at him and shook her head. Like she didn't want to hear what she knew he was going to say. "He's gone."
"No," Ellie said, shaking her head over and over. "No, he... I know people were saying someone died, but... Maybe he's just-"
"We saw him, Ellie," Matthew interrupted, his voice thick and his tears flowing freely now. "Alex is telling you the truth. He's dead."
Ellie brought a hand up to her mouth and squeezed her eyes tight. But that didn't stop a ragged sob from escaping, or her tears from rolling down her cheeks. She stood still and shook her head as if she could just shake off the news like it was an annoying bug.
Matthew shot Alex a pleading look as if he was suddenly the resident expert on consoling grieving schoolmates. Alex walked towards Ellie slowly, not sure if his tricks would work twice. He wasn't even sure what it was that worked the first time. As he got closer to her, he suddenly remembered the first day he met Ellie. How he made her chai that was almost as good as her nani's. He remembered all the times his dad had made that chai for him or he made it for his dad. How it made him feel cared for, and how he hoped his dad felt the same. A way to show affection, when words weren't enough.
"I was going to make some chai," Alex said, trying not to feel stupid given what Matthew had just said out loud. "Would you like some?"
Ellie stopped shaking her head but stayed where she was with her eyes closed. Alex and Matthew both held their breath as she continued to let out wrenching sobs. Alex fought the urge to apologize profusely until she opened her eyes and looked at him, her eyes a mix of grief and gratefulness.
"Yeah," she said with a trembling voice. "Yeah, I would. Thanks, mate."