Elemental Release

Chapter Four

I returned to the Academy, frustrated that my airmaking abilities relied so heavily on my emotional state. I hadn't felt calm, peaceful, or completely in control of myself for a long time. If I ever had at all.

I hurried through the lunch line in the dining hall, hoping not to see anyone from my Council. I wanted to eat alone, brood alone, and reason through what my mentor had said. Alone. Thankfully, I made it back to my room with my roast beef sandwich. I braced myself to witness Isaiah and Cat entwined, and exhaled heavily when I found the apartment empty.

I settled into a hard corner of the balcony, where the air could reach me but I could still have privacy. I ate slowly, trying to sort through why I felt such a tornado inside myself so often.

I made my own choices, so I didn't feel trapped the way Gabby did. I'd survived Alex and her harsh treatment pretty much unscathed, so I didn't carry resentment the way Isaiah did. I needed to truly mourn Hanai's death. I knew I wouldn't be fully in control until I let myself grieve for him. I added that at my first item on the list for Airmaster Rusk.

I didn't feel powerless the way Cat sometimes felt. Or maybe you do, I thought, crumpling up my napkin. I wanted to mend things with Gabby, and I felt powerless to do that. I wanted Felix to recognize my airmaking talent, and I felt powerless to make him do so.

"I can't change everything," I said aloud. "You can only change what you can control." This was a sentry mantra, one that we learned as six-year-olds first entering the program. But after that, I'd been taught that if I knew enough first aid, if I learned how to use anything as a weapon, if I shut off all my emotions, I could change the circumstances I found myself in—usually to my advantage.

I learned that I could change things I didn't have control over.

I stood abruptly and, before I could change my mind, nearly sprinted back to the dining hall. Gabby wasn't hard to find. She sat with Liz at a table near the windows, her eyes trained on something outside the glass.

I wavered for a moment, but only a moment. Then I crossed the room and took her hand. She startled when I touched her, but she stood when I pulled her toward me.

"Adam—what—?"

I kissed her, hesitant at first. When she didn't shove me away with flaming hands—as she had in the past—I felt encouraged to make the embrace a little deeper. Catcalls and applause echoed around me, but I kept myself centered, kept my attention on the way she tasted like strawberries and cheesecake. The way she threaded her fingers through my hair—I will never cut it—and the way she sighed when I finally pulled away.

She kept her eyes closed as her chest rose and fell, rose and fell.

"Come on," I said, my voice a little hoarse. I threaded my fingers through hers and nodded to Liz. "I need to talk to Gabby. Excuse us."

Her eyes were as wide as dinner plates, and she simply nodded before I towed Gabby out of the dining hall.

#

I didn't take Gabby back to my quarters, though I thought about it. Instead, I softened my fingers over hers, allowing her the ability to pull away if she wanted to. She didn't.

A small smile crept across my lips as we left the Academy and entered the bright noonday sunshine. I wandered down the street, away from school, and cares, and worries. She came with me willingly—and silent, of course.

"How was your morning?" I asked as we entered the shade of a towering oak tree. I released her hand as I sat on the ground, my back resting against the gnarled trunk. I reclaimed her hand after she sat, sandwiching it between both of mine. I didn't dare look up at her, for now content just to be with her without knowing or seeing how she felt.