A WAR WAGED INSIDE HER, THE DESIRE FOR EXPLANATION BATTLING WITH THE BLISS OF IGNORANCE.
Sylvi followed Sienna back inside to find Archer gone.
"Ah," Roman said, directing attention to them, "so they've returned. How was the brawl?"
"You're an idiot," Sienna said but returned to her place sprawled in the small space next to him.
"I apologize for them." Samuel rose from the cathedra and moved towards her. She took two steps back. Samuel raised his hands as if approaching an animal, it made her bristle. "Something of note, Carson. We've been invited to Luthor Henriks eighteenth."
Her eyebrows rose. "A birthday party?"
Roman rolled his wrist absentmindedly. "He fancies himself one of us, specifically as a friend of Archer's. Plus-"
"He's Director Andrea's godson. It'd be rude not to go," Sienna finished.
"Precisely. Friday, save the date, Carson."
"Already burned it into my hippocampus," she said.
A layer of mist clung to the earth when Sylvi stepped out. The drizzle of rain dripped from rooftops and dappled the top of her head. She would have a little time before she had to be in class. She didn't feel ready for reality. Her limbs weighed her down and her head swam with constant unfocus. Few still lounged around on the wet grass, relaxing in the shade as she passed, but all watched her. How jarring it was, she might've pushed to ignore it had she been in a clearer state but she didn't and she wasn't. Sylvi met every eye she passed and called for a challenge, none came to meet her.
The stairway to her dorm seemed both endless and made of nothing as she climbed up. Her mind floated above her, numb. Her body ached like it always did, her joints smarting, but it was dull, as if her nerves shot and gave up right after.
There was light under the door, darkening the carpet. Sylvi barely thought about it. Perhaps this had all been some ploy and there was an assassin in her room sent by Samuel Webb himself, he had said she'd seen too much. Or perhaps she'd simply forgotten to turn it off when she left.
April was sat in front of her vanity, hands up in her hair as she pinned it. They fell to her sides when they met eyes. She was all done up in a navy blouse and dark slacks, tall boots laced up and her coat pressed on the bed. Sylvi pushed down the urge to tease her if she was getting ready to brush past Archer again. Instead she choked out a, "Hey."
"Hey," April replied, and gathered her things.
"Where, uh, are you going somewhere?"
April met her eyes again, her expression indecipherable, everything and nothing swam in her eyes. "Whitney, from a few doors down-"
"I know her," Sylvi cut in, cringing at herself once she realized she'd interrupted. "Sorry."
April shook her head. "It's fine. I ran into her in the hallway a while back and she invited me out with her friends." She shrugged.
"But you... hate Whitney?" She was one of the other girls vying for Archer's attention, and rivaled April in Theater. She was like a copy of April if she were more vindictive.
April's eyes narrowed, mercurial once more. "And you 'hate' Samuel. I'm allowed to like people, Sylvia. You're not the only person I know."
"I-I know that but- April, we need to talk."
April was halfway out the door. "About what?"
"The other night. The things we both said."
She began to close the door, one foot still out. "I'm all ears."
"Listen I-"
Sylvi's phone buzzed, then rang, clear as day. She squeezed her eyes shut. April looked down. She gripped the door, her hold loosening and then tightening once the phone rang. "I'd better not keep you, Samuel's calling."
"April-"
The door slammed in her face.
Sylvi let out a silent scream and tugged her hands through her hair, pacing back in front in the small empty space left in the room. Her phone rang again and she felt compelled to yank the window open and toss it. When she checked the caller ID, it wasn't Webb at all, but her mother. She let it ring.
Sylvi plopped down in her desk chair, her head on the rest. She stared up the ceiling and brought her hands over her eyes. Her groan echoed throughout the room. First Samuel, then April, now her mother. She never should've said yes. She should've told Melissa where she could stick it when she demanded she come back for a shift she hadn't signed up for. None of this would've happened. She would still have the time to focus on school, she'd still have a best friend, she'd still have her life- as uneventful as it had been.
She pulled up to her desk and opened her computer, it took a while to boot up. Sylvi placed her homework binder on the desk and decided she would drown herself in work like she had. She would strangle her self-pity in Latin notes, calculus, and anatomy sheets.
She turned the lights off and flicked on her lamp, closed the shutters, locked the door. She emailed her teachers that she felt under the weather, only Mr. Miller replied, wishing her well. Afternoon settled over Edgewood. She'd skip lunch- dinner too.
Sylvi worked through the stack of worksheets and essays she'd tried to wrangle over the past few weeks, the ones she'd let pile up, and cursed herself for her lack of drive. Her life falling apart wasn't an excuse to be lazy.
Despite the hours that passed, her mind kept straying to one topic: Anthony Crest.
Roman's words echoed back to her- "I don't want you to be another Anthony Crest." She didn't even know who that was. There were snippets of memory, small things, from her early days at Edgewood, but nothing more than that. No matter how she racked her brain, that was all there was. A name and the shadow of a face.
Once the sun readied to dip itself into the horizon, she rubbed at her eyes and clicked through her computer to turn in one last assignment. After it sent, she leaned back and sighed so big it was like all the air had left her body. She stilled, the chair still rolling, and let the tumult inside her crash like waves against the shore. Everything in her buzzed. It was like her insides had been removed and left her with a void, not unlike hunger, but something deeper.
She brought herself to the desk again. A mountain of emails was still left for her to read through but the one at the top was from Mr. Miller. It read:
Good Afternoon, Frances.
I hope you're well. You've missed a few office-hours but I hope everything is all right and that this is not too much to ask of you.
I have a student coming to me who has missed quite a bit of school. She's bright, but she needs some assistance to get her where she needs to be. I thought you'd be the perfect tutor candidate. If you're interested, please contact me. I plan on a meeting the day after tomorrow at 2PM.
Well Wishes,
Terence Miller
Sylvi didn't hesitate to email back a confirmation. She'd tutored before, at her old school. And it was the perfect excuse to avoid the messes she was caught in. Here she was, back on track.
She checked the clock- it was 3AM, already tomorrow. She'd go to her classes and ignore everything. She'd clear her mind of things like Samuel and Anthony and April. She'd work herself to the point of burnout and relish in it. Sylvia Frances Carson- back again.
To Mr. Miller,
Of course.
YOU ARE READING
KINGSMAN
General Fiction"Though they were meant to be Kingsmen, Samuel Webb was not one at all. He was a King." Until Samuel Webb falls out of a window. The question is: Did he fall or was he pushed? Edgewood College is an institution for the elite, presided over by The Ki...
