Chapter 15
The walk back from the greenhouse leaves me with energy I haven't felt since arriving on campus. It’s a lighter sort of satisfaction, as opposed to the manic anxiety that's been my constant companion over the last week and a half. It’s the feeling of accomplishing something difficult that’s been a struggle for weeks, proof that I’m not entirely hopeless after all.
Even the darkness that consumes campus feels less eerie tonight and more comforting.
The residence hall is louder than usual, the common room filled with students talking loudly, having drinks, and playing games. I’m tempted to join them, but despite my lightheartedness, I’m still exhausted from the full day.
I set my bag down at my desk and can't quite suppress the smile that's been trying to surface since I left the greenhouse. The way Alaric had complimented me, the pride I felt when I succeeded at something I’ve been anxious about for weeks. I pull the leaf out of the small pocket of my bag that I’d placed it in and set it on my desk, knowing I’ll need to snag a small pot and some dirt next time I’m in the greenhouse.
For now, I place it in a shot glass-sized container that I’d previously been using to hold paperclips.
“What's got you all perky?”
Max's voice cuts through my internal celebration.
I look up from my desk and stay silent for a moment, ready to confront her for the first time since we were forcibly made roommates.
“Do you actually care, or are you just going to use my happiness as another way to ridicule me?” I ask directly. My words don’t come out kindly, but I'm tired of navigating her unwarranted hatred for me.
Max raises an eyebrow, seemingly surprised by my direct question, but to her credit, she doesn’t fire back with a snarky response. Instead, she sighs with frustration, though I wonder if it’s more with herself. “I’m trying to be friendly,” she says in her typical sardonic tone, as if it’s obvious.
“Are you? Because it’s been pretty clear since I arrived that you'd prefer I didn't exist.”
She sighs again. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I’m not really good at the whole BFF bonding thing or whatever. Or the whole people thing in general, if we're being honest. But I decided I should probably try. So yes, I am, with good intentions, asking why you’re happy.”
“Wow, uh… okay. Well, cool,” I stutter, surprised by her transparency. “I’m in a good mood because I haven’t been able to use magic without screwing something up until tonight. It’s been stressing me out since I got here.”
“That doesn't surprise me.” She pulls her legs up to sit cross-legged then grabs an almost-full wine glass from her bedside table and takes a sip.
“That you were struggling, I mean. Learning magic during your grad program has to be hell. Plus, your emotions are like a shaken champagne bottle with the cork ready to blow.”
I bristle at her statement. I thought I’d been hiding my stress pretty well, although I guess that needs to stop now, to some degree, after my lesson with Alaric. “What makes you say that?”
She tilts her head, studying me with those unsettling eyes.
“I'm an empath. I can feel everyone else’s emotions, and they’re difficult to ignore when they’re especially strong.
Which yours absolutely are. All that anxiety and guilt and frustration you keep trying to pretend you don’t have is radiating off you in waves.
Honestly, it's kind of exhausting for me to be in the same room as you.”
My immediate reaction is to take offense, but I pause a moment to think about it from her perspective.
If I’ve been projecting all my stress over the last couple weeks, it absolutely makes sense why she’d be on edge around me.
In my mind, I begin to piece together her actions—how standoffish she is toward everyone, the way she avoids crowded spaces whenever I see her, her general irritation with the world.
I can’t imagine being bombarded by everyone else’s emotions all the time.
“That must really suck,” I say.
Max looks taken aback, like she'd been bracing for a different response. “What?”
“I’m just saying it must be hard to be an empath, feeling what everyone else is feeling. I don’t even want to deal with my own emotions, let alone everyone else’s.”
“It does suck, but there are some perks, at least,” she says. “Although, if you dealt with your own emotions, it would probably make things easier for both of us—you with your magic and me with being your roommate.”
I laugh. “Yeah, so I’ve heard. I just got out of a tutoring session where I was told in no uncertain terms that I need to deal with my shit, so that’ll be a work in progress going forward.”
“Who’s tutoring you?”
“Dr. Vale.”
Max’s eyes widen. “You get alone time with the Dr. Vale? Is he as intimidating as everyone says? Because I’ve seen him on campus, so I know that at least some of the rumors about him are true.”
“Like what?”
“Like how he’s the hottest professor on campus.”
I bite back a smile. “He’s a little less intimidating one-on-one, shockingly enough. Since he’s teaching me already and we share the same Affinity, it just made sense that he’d be the one to tutor me.”
“Wow. Lucky you.” The corner of her mouth lifts in a smile, and I laugh awkwardly. “I heard he’s a bit of an enigma, even with the other professors, so let me know if you find out anything interesting in your private time.” She winks.
Laughing, I wave off her comment. “Anyway, enough about me. How are your classes going this semester? Is it a lot like your other school you transferred from?”
Darkness crosses her expression, but it’s gone as quickly as it came.
“My old school was a lot more difficult in certain aspects, so I’m happy to be here.
My classes are going pretty well, though.
Since most of my classmates are also Mentalists, they’re aware of my abilities, which helps them to be more cognizant of managing their emotions, if only because they don’t want the freaky vampire girl to know more about them.
” She rolls her eyes, as if it’s an annoying side effect of being who she is, but I can tell that it bothers her more than she lets on.
“Do a lot of other Mentalists have your ability? I guess I wasn’t aware there were many different subcategories for Affinities.”
She shakes her head. “No. There are three others on campus, one of whom is a professor and another who’s a freshman. The only other girl, who’s also a grad student, is terrified of me.”
“I guess it makes sense why you choose to spend so much time by yourself, then.”
“Yeah. People are generally terrible anyway, so I rarely enjoy their company,” she adds, but it sounds more like an excuse than a genuine statement. “Most of them don’t care to look past the stereotypes about vampires, so it’s easier to just label me as dangerous and stay away.”
This is the first time she's directly referenced being a vampire, and it makes me curious once again about what that actually means. But it seems like a bad choice to push too hard with asking questions when she's actually being open.
“What kind of stereotypes are there?” I ask, because that seems like the safest question to continue the conversation without prying into her personal life.
“Most people think vampires shouldn’t be allowed at Arcadia because we’re inherently dark creatures who corrupt everything around us.
Which, to be fair, most vampires are too dangerous to attend school here because they use blood magic.
I don’t, though, and the admin tested me thoroughly before they accepted me here. ”
“That’s actually really interesting. I don’t know anything about vampires besides the human mythology and the rumors spread by the students here. It’s sad to see that even in magical environments people are still so prejudiced.”
“It’d be nice for people to give me a chance, but yeah. Vampires as a whole tend to isolate themselves from other communities, so there are still a lot of misunderstandings about us. Maybe one day that’ll change, but my hopes aren’t high.”
“Well, all you need to worry about right now is yourself and your time here. What’s your degree in, again?”
“Psychology.”
“I should have guessed,” I laugh.
We talk for a while longer, mostly about our classes and the more interesting professors—though I conveniently don’t mention my prior interactions with Alaric—until it’s late and we’re both yawning.
I change into my pajamas and get ready for bed, grateful for the comfortable silence as opposed to the tense one that’s stretched between us for so long.
Max keeps her lamp on after asking me if it’s okay while I snuggle into my blankets.
“Thank you for opening up to me,” I murmur, staring at the ceiling and feeling calmer than I have in weeks.
“Don’t get all sappy on me,” she warns with a hint of playfulness in her tone. “I have a reputation to maintain.”