Other Sides: 12 Webfiction Tales

Poaching by Lyn Thorne-Alder & Chris Childs

A story of Year Four of the Addergoole School

Literature had never been Wren's favorite subject, but in Addergoole it had its upsides. Professor VanderLinden was stunningly good-looking, and he actually managed to make Lit entertaining, something she'd thought impossible in such an abstract subject. He made books that should seem ancient and dry seem fresh and new again, and spoke of the authors like they were friends of his.

More importantly, Lit was one of the two classes she shared with Phelen. She liked being around him; it calmed her when things got overwhelming and, well, classes with your boyfriend were always better.

Even a good class was still better when it was over. She packed up her books and put her hand in Phelen's so that he could lead her to lunch. He made sure she never missed a meal, kept her from the nervous binging-and-purging cycles she'd gotten into before she met him. He took good care of her.

She squeezed his hand a little, smiling. She'd been a wreck when she came here, not just the food issues, but her whole life. Being sent to Addergoole had disrupted the carefully-built patterns she'd used as coping mechanisms and here, underground and locked away from the world, she'd had no way to rebuild them. He'd fixed all that, taken her life in hand and given it order. She had been afraid, when he'd first slipped the collar around her neck, but now she couldn't imagine going back to what she'd called life without it.

"Phelen? A word?" The sleek brunette stepped out around someone else as if appearing out of thin air: Liza, Wren thought, a First Cohort. Trailing behind her was another student in Wren and Phelen's year, Rafe, looking like he was trying not to appear too forlorn. Why did she want to talk to Phelen? Wren didn't like the look of her, didn't like the way she was intruding on their time. Phelen was hers. Okay, technically she was his, but it amounted to the same thing, didn't it?

"Just one?" Phelen smirked at the taller girl. Wren hid her grimace behind a sweet smile; it looked like they were going to talk to her anyway. "I suppose I can spare that, for a member of my cy'ree. What's on your mind?"

She was pretty; Wren wasn't sure she liked the way he smiled at her. She scooted closer to him; if she did it right, he'd put his arm around her waist without scolding her. And he probably wouldn't scold her now even if she did it wrong. Not in public.

"One word?" Liza volleyed back at him. "Crew."

Now Wren was sure she didn't like it, although at least Phelen's arm had obligingly encircled her. Cy'ree was one thing; it meant they shared a Mentor, and although many cy'rees were also social groups, they weren't necessarily close. Cy'rees tended to have a lot in common, but they were also to some extent creations of coincidence. Crew, on the other hand...

"You want to join my crew?" Phelen asked, still smirking. "I could put in a good word for you."

That wouldn't be too bad - with Magnolia, Shiva, and Tya there to keep her in line, Liza wouldn't get too close for comfort. But the girl was shaking her head.

"Oh, wouldn't that be lovely? I'm sure I'd fit right in, too. No. I want you to join ours."

"Your crew?" He leaned against the wall casually, thrusting his hands into his pockets, his dark hair falling in his eyes but not seeming to bother him. "Remind me again who all you're talking about?"

She didn't like losing his arm around her, not just because of the warmth and pleasure the Keeper-Kept bond gave that touch, but because the shift in posture meant things were getting bad. She knew what she was supposed to do, though, when he got tense and casual all at once like that; she leaned against the wall, putting him partially between her and Liza.