Blue Skies Academy

Chapter 9

   My heart thrums in my chest. Will he be there? I sigh to calm myself. I shouldn't care. We shouldn't even be meeting in the first place. And yet... I need to see him after the attack. I need to know that I haven't failed at my job, that he's not as badly hurt, that my parents will still get the money De LaRoche is sending them, that I can still make them proud. I open the doors to the veranda. I don't mind the chilly air around me or how disheveled my hair and clothes are as I scan the gardens around me. And then I spot him.

   Dominic still isn't wearing any loose clothing. He has his typical black suit pants, but this time around, his white shirt is untucked and a bit wrinkled. I freeze as my eyes land on his figure. He has his shirt lifted, one of his hands tracing the contours of a sizable blue and purple bruise on his side. A bruise starting on the last few rows of his ribs and spreading over his well sculpted abdominals...

   "Enjoy the show while you can." Dominic speaks, letting his shirt drop back down.

   My eyes snap back to meet his. The dim light from the veranda's lamps casts delicate shadows on his sharp features. "Don't flatter yourself. If anything, I'm glad someone put you in your place." I nod to the bruise. "I doubt you won whatever fight you got in if that's the mark your opponent left on you."

   He straightens up. "Alright, smarty-pants. I don't need your calculated observations." He says with a snarl.

   I narrow my eyes. Maybe I'm pushing it. But maybe I'm not. He's a snobbish, spoiled, rude, mannerless kid who needs to learn that life isn't just about who holds the most amounts of money. And to learn some respect. Yeah, definitely some respect. I raise my hands in mock surrender. "Chill out, wild boar. No one's coming for your bruised side or ego." I sigh, my hands dropping. "I have no idea why I bother with you, really..."

   He scoffs. "Come on, I know you're interested. If you weren't, you wouldn't make it a point to sneak out every night to see me." I expect him to flash a cocky smirk. But instead, annoyance flashes in his eyes and his tone becomes dismissive.

   "Excuse you? I'm only out here because I need to blow off some steam. And also, it's not me that's coming to see you; I think it's the other way around. Why are you always dressed like this so late at night, always sneaking around here when the boys' dorm is on the other side of the building? What are you looking for?" The unanswered questions that have been bothering me since our first encounter spill over.

   "Trouble, sweet pea."

   "Wh-"

   "A man has his secrets." His gaze darkens slightly, adding weight to the words. Yet, it seems like his playful side is forever embedded in the reflections dancing on his iris. The mix of it all thickens the air around us. "It would take away from my appeal if I were to share them all, especially with such a nosy, entitled, little girl like you. And I have boundaries, too. If you're even the tiniest bit of smart, you'd know not to mingle with things that don't need your attention."

   I'll kill him-

   "Don't make that face." He turns his attention to stuffing his shirt in his pants. "You'll get more wrinkles than you already have. And trust me, you don't need any more of those if you hope to discontinue living your lonely, pitiful life."

   I hold up a hand to stop him from speaking further. "I'm not here to swallow your sad insults. You're absolutely insufferable. And if you think that I'm here just to kiss your feet and bend the rules of nature just to please you, well, it just shows how sickly full of yourself you are!" He has the money, he has the looks, but he certainly lacks the sanity. Like father, like son. "I'm done here." I turn around and leave the veranda, barely withstanding the need of slamming the door.

   I angrily get in my bed and throw the sheets over me, ignoring my lack of discretion to get back into my room. Sleep doesn't find me easily, and when it does, it proves to be a restless one.

                                ***

   The next morning, I'm back to turning dusty pages in the library. As I was making my way here, I got caught by April and Sarah in the hallway, and, with their persuasive arguments, I decided to let them tag along, not that denying them was an option. Getting there, we decided to split up so we could cover as much ground as we could.

   I put down yet another book next to the other twenty that I had already ruffled. Nothing useful. Hoping that the others had more luck than me, I stand up from the squeaky armchair I found and wander back into the book maze. As I round a corner, however, I slam into something. Into someone.

   "God, who-" I stumble back a step. Mrs. Henrig is standing right in front of me. I let out a strained laugh. "Mrs. Henrig! I'm sorry. I really should start paying more attention to-"

   She doesn't do so much as blink my way. "You should leave." Her lips crack as she speaks. "You are not welcomed here."

   I tense up. "Excuse me?" My hand goes to fidget with the elastic at my wrist. I anchor my legs onto the ground. "I have all rights to be here. I pay this school, just like everyone else, I work, I-"

   "You're a fraud, that's what you are." Her tone is cold, dry, rough.

   My eyes narrow. First, people here should seriously stop cutting me off. Second... A fraud?! How dare she?! Wait. Does she know? Did she figure it out? Did she tell anyone? My brain is overheating as questions take turns to flash through my mind, so pressing, so many, so relentlessly showing up, one after the other.

   Mrs. Henrig must've seen the panic in my eyes. Her lips purse together. "You shouldn't be here. If you know what's good for you, you'll leave." Dust practically leaves her mouth as a crack in her lip turns scarlet.

   I let out a slightly shaky breath. I feel the bookshelves closing in on me. And what if she figured out that I'm secretly guarding Mr. De LaRoche's son? And what if she figured out that I'm not part of the high society as I so try to pretend? And what if she figured out that I struggle to sleep? I won't let this old, irritable, strange, little, mighty lady tell me off. I square my shoulders and look her dead in the eyes. "Listen, Mrs. Henrig. I don't know what you think you know about me, but I'm not a weak pushover. I'm not afraid, certainly not afraid of you, and I'm entitled to my place here, just like everyone else in this school. And I will not let anyone else tell me otherwise just because of some wrongly founded opinions based on god knows what information." The words leave my mouth with a slightly wavering conviction as I know that those affirmations aren't as exact. No matter. If I get in trouble for this, then so be it. But who does this witch think she is to attack me-

   Before I continue my defense, she holds up a wrinkled hand. "I've heard enough." Her eyes hold a glacial flicker of light in them, one that makes temperatures drop around us. Her scowl remains engraved on her face, her features distorted to create her stoic, embittered appearance. "You're not asking the right questions to uncover the answers that you seek. Nor are you looking in the right places. Such precious information is kept away from prying eyes."

   She turns around and walks away, leaving me with more holes to fill in my quest. I need to find the others before I go insane or convince myself that I fully imagined what happened just now. I round corners and brush against dusty book covers before making it back to the main entrance. There, I find both April and Sarah sat on an old couch.

   "There you are!" April jumps up.

   "Any luck?" Asks Sarah.

   I deduce, from their slightly deflated expressions and crossed out book titles on the open notebooks on the coffee table that their research was just as fruitless as mine. "No... However, I did have the strangest encounter..."

   I tell them about our history teacher stopping me in my tracks and the last thing she said to me. However, I leave out her threats. If Mr. De LaRoche ever found out that I told anyone about his plans, I'd become dog food in a matter of seconds.

   As we retreat back to the dormitory, I drown in the made-up scenarios illustrating whatever it was that Mrs. Henrig knows about me and what she tried to tell me... What information does she think we're looking for? Was that an invitation to keep digging or a clear warning to stop? I need to find her and talk to her as soon as possible.