Moving Objects

Chapter 8

If I thought Dimitri's face looked bad last night, it was worse in the harsh light of day. Or night.

There was a bruise around it, deep purple and it crept under his eye. The gash had started to heal up, but it was clearly there, and no bandage was going to cover it. I could barely look at him when I woke up and I had a hard time making eye contact with him during training. The whole night made my heart jump into my throat and my stomach tie up in knots.

I hurt somebody, and it wasn't just anyone; it was him. And I felt sick over it.

I was so tied up in my own inner turmoil that I didn't notice Mom standing in the back of my class until Eddie stomped on my foot. The fact that I didn't punch Eddie was clear that I was upset, and he kept giving me concerned looks.

"Did something happen between you and him?" Eddie inquired while we went through different punching techniques, and I shook my head. I barely said a word to him.

I kept to myself until the end of class and hoped to avoid everyone, but the red-headed Scotswoman caught up to me.

"You were very distracted today," she implied as we both walked down the hall. Her voice was even and emotionless, something that I both rejoiced and hated. I didn't want to talk about what happened, but I was beating myself up about it and she may have been the only person who I could talk to about it.

"Did I... Did I ever hurt anyone? Before you placed me in the academy?" I asked quietly, turning to look at her. Mom stopped and frowned before replying.

"Once. I was the only one who got hurt, but it was either I got hurt or you did. Why would you..." Mom explained before trailing off, her eyes widening when she came to the realization. "Belikov."

I nodded my head in confirmation while taking a deep breath.

Mom scoffed and shook her head. "I knew his claim of falling out of bed and hitting the bedside table was a load of shite. What happened?"

"It was an accident! I swear!" I squeaked but Mom nodded and wrapped her arm around my shoulders, shushing me. Mom squeezed my arm and pulled me towards the vacant classroom and shut the door behind us.

"What happened Rosemarie?" she asked in a soothing tone, the way a mother would ask a small child. I ran my hands through my hair and dropped my bag onto the floor.

"Dad and I were doing a lot of practicing yesterday and I fainted, so Dad brought me back to my room and I fell asleep. Dimitri came to check on me because he was worried, and I was in the middle of a nightmare and he..."

"He tried to wake you up and you lashed out."

I nodded my head and wrapped my arms around my waist and rubbed my foot over the other. Mom came towards me and sat on the desk, which funny enough put her at the same height as me. I wasn't sure if the blowout happened because he tried to wake me up or if I had done it already and I couldn't wake up. Either way, it still looked bad.

"It happens to your father too. Lashing out in his sleep, I mean. It usually happens when he's particularly upset or stressed. What was the nightmare about? Spokane?" Mom said as she folded her hands in her lap, looking every bit of the well respected Guardian she is. It didn't feel like I was being lectured but a superior, it just felt like I was having a heart-to-heart with my mom. It was a foreign feeling.

"Did you ever get hurt?"

"Once or twice, usually because I got too close. This is something you'll learn to control. Don't forget, you and your father feed off each other. Being together again will make things harder but he's here to help you learn to control it now that you can," she said before reaching out and squeezing my hand.