Lying Liars Who Don't Tell The Truth

Chapter Fifteen

In hindsight, continuing to attend high school was probably neither necessary nor particularly beneficial to anyone in the Abara house. An argument could probably be made that continuing to uphold Naja's education was for the best, but that Ansel and I continued to accompany her to school for the entire week after the Halloween dance was done out of nothing more than habit and an uncomfortability with change. I considered putting forth the argument that I should be staying home instead of wasting away in a classroom all day, but the idea of arguing with any of the Abaras was unpleasant enough to keep me waking up to Naja's six o'clock alarm every morning. Also, I wanted to continue seeing Azhar and he had been stringently avoiding me since Halloween.

If I was supposed to feel bad about kissing him, I didn't. It was barely even a kiss. It was an administration of medication via lips. If Azhar wanted to be sour about the whole thing because Amar was emotionally unstable, then so be it.

Finding time to see Amar had also become increasingly difficult with everyone in the Abara house on high alert for anything out of the ordinary. Slipping out of my bed in the night was impossible with Gallem on her new "sleep-during-the-day-watch-at-night" schedule.

All in all, things were more glum than normal. Naja never really let go of the anger she felt toward the Abara's and Lucifus, which meant that the normal ray of sunshine we could all count on seemed to have permanently shaded herself off. She was lurid and flat, mostly ignoring my attempts to cheer her up. Of course she and Ansel seemed just as friendly as ever, moping together in a way that conveniently cut me out of their sob-fests.

They had both, in fact, seemed all the more ready to blame me for the things they should have been blaming Gallem and Lucifus for. I told them on multiple occasions that I was just as clueless as they were, but something about me forever sealed me into outsider status for them, apparently.

It was really rather stupid of me to find Azhar after class on the second Tuesday of November, wandering up to him and demanding loudly that he stop ignoring me.

"I'm not ignoring you, Cora," Azhar said, avoiding my eyes like he had been for more than a week.

"Yes, you are," I insisted, waving Naja and Ansel away from where they were hovering near the door. They were plenty used to my private conversations with Azhar by now, and that Naja apparently believed that we were sleeping together was actually somewhat helpful in ensuring the two didn't linger.

Azhar slammed down a stack of papers he had been holding onto his desk and said, "Though I know it may be wholly inconceivable for you to imagine a scenario in which you are not at the forefront of my mind, I've had more than a few other issues to attend to lately outside of making you feel especially tended to."

His words were sharp and I could tell there was something bothering him that he wasn't cluing me into. "Has Amar been talking to you?" I asked, resisting the urge to engage in some much-needed bickering.

"His name is Zorion, Cora," said Azhar pointedly. "If you ever hope to work up the gall to kill him, you better start using it."

It was the first time I could remember Azhar acting in such a petulant manner, and though I was far past the point of being taken aback by anything, it still took me by surprise.

To shield from the few students who had already filled into the room for the next period, I took a step toward Azhar's desk and said quietly, my tone just as biting as his had been, "Whatever trauma you're working through right now, I suggest you get it under control yesterday because we have things to talk about."

Azhar leaned forward, placing his fists on the desk between us. "You're inventing again, Cora. If you have something you need to say, say it."