Legends of Mirandis Academy

Chapter 39: Communication is for Suckers

It was Tuesday. Brielle had been rather hoping she wouldn't make it past Monday.

Actually, it would have been ideal if, as she had run to her room on Friday night, the pain could have claimed her right then and there. The pain that came from her chest but bound her limbs, as if her heart was pumping not blood but something toxic. Everything hurt, down to the smallest capillary.

And if, for even a moment, the sensation eased—if Brielle experienced a moment of neutrality, or, God forbid, happiness—she shut it down, collapsed upon it. It simply could not be.

Brielle Prescott was evil, and she did not deserve joy. Not while she knew that someone else was in pain on her account.

No, not just someone else. Iridia. Precious, sweet Iridia, whose low voice was like a lullaby on a quiet evening. All those years, Brielle had scorned her childhood friend: she was too messy, too strange. But then she had truly seen Iridia. The girl who protected her and stood up for her when she didn't have to, and whose words, when they came, made Brielle laugh. Everything about Iridia Trilliaris was surprising and beautiful. Everything she made, from poetry to the music box, of which Brielle had stashed beneath her bed. She was terrified to let the delicate gift find its way into her reckless hands again.

She was unable to face it. Iridia made, and Brielle destroyed. It was Tuesday, midday, and Brielle was struggling not to cry in the middle of calculus class.

Once again, Ms. Addington gave Brielle a kind glance and informed her that she could stay for lunch. Brielle nodded acknowledgement, not trusting her voice to remain steady. She found herself wishing, begging, to be back in time to a few months ago (was it really only a few months?) when the worst she had done was be drunk and careless. When Kelam Quincy—

Her heart squeezed painfully. He was the problem, he was always the problem! Why did a part of her still believe that he was the solution?

She stared at the homework problems in front of her, willing her brain to concentrate. Unobligingly, it plunged her into the memory of being in Iridia's arms. The warmth, the way that Brielle somehow knew: the rest of the universe didn't matter. Her universe stopped and started there.

Iridia had skipped Chemistry two days in a row now, and Brielle wondered if she would ever attend again. Maybe she'd switched periods, maybe she'd left Mirandis. Did it matter, Brielle asked herself, if Iridia would ever stand in the same room as her? If she would ever see her again? Would Brielle even be able to face the one person who always wanted her, always cared for her, who had actually loved her for heaven knows how long? It wouldn't be fair to Iridia to ever face the monster that took advantage of her gentle heart and patient hands. A monster that tore them both to shreds.

The equations on the paper were blurry. Brielle swiped the tears from her eyes and gripped her pencil so hard that it nearly broke.

From her desk, Ms. Addington spoke. "Um. Can I help you?"

Brielle glanced up. Ms. Addington was addressing someone at the door—or, rather, someone who had once been at the door but who was currently maneuvering around the chairs and tables in the classroom. Brielle shut her eyes and resisted the urge to put her head down on the desk.

"My name is Luna," said Luna to the teacher. She said it with the confidence that the statement would clarify everything. In case it didn't, she added: "I'm a friend of Brielle's."

Ms. Addington turned to Brielle. "Is that true?"

"Y-yes," stammered Brielle; because it was, and because Brielle was too confused to say anything else. Luna was looking at her the way that Brielle normally looked at her. Consternation. A warning. A threat.