15. Salem
Chapter fifteen
Of all the things I have faced over the years, why does attending classes suddenly feel like it may be the worst? Today, I feel slightly frantic as I pop into my room a few hours before class starts. Constantine left my schedule yesterday, and I have caught myself staring at it in a panic daze too many times. My hands crumble the paper before I fold it to store it neatly in my pocket for later. It feels like my first day is looming over my head as my anxiety builds, and I have no idea what to expect today. It’s a fresh start, but I can’t mentally prepare for the unknown. At least that first class is something I can wrap my head around: Weapons and Hand-to-Hand Defense. It feels like an excellent and familiar way to start, so maybe I can turn my mind off for a while.
I slip into some athletic pants with a red shirt. My closet is full of red and black because, according to Monica, they are my colors. I couldn’t find it in me to argue because I enjoyed seeing the color in my closet. As I look into the mirror, adjusting my ponytail, I smile at myself. You can do this. We are going to have a good day.
The smile on my face doesn’t fade as my eyes take in my tattoos, which seem to move on my skin, almost like the wind is blowing the branches of the roses. The shades of gray to black make me look unapproachable, which I like. As much as I want to fly under the radar, I want to deter people from getting too close to me. I’m poison; ‘don’t touch’ is the vibe I want to radiate. People make me nervous, and I want to learn all I can in these next few years while searching for 203. I only have to keep my head down and focus on the prize.
My mind flashes to what Dean Campbell said: nothing links me to the paranormal prisons. The fake smile I had plastered on my face disappears as it feels like a lead weight falling into my stomach. There is no paper trail for me to follow or to gain access to. How am I supposed to find 203 now? He has to remain a priority. The longer I am away from him, the more I feel like he is a distant memory. I can’t go through this world without having him with me. Does he miss me as much as I miss him? Is he looking for me? Or is he stuck in a place where they wanted to send me, like Fae’s Edge?
I open the door to the common area, hoping to sneak out. However, a girl with beautiful auburn ringlets stands there, almost as if she has been waiting for me to arrive, as I open the door. Her skin is a lovely shade of brown, and she has freckles on the bridge of her nose and cheeks. Her hazel eyes are bright, and she smiles at me. The energy she is sending out is happiness, to the degree that it makes me cringe from the feel of it. “Hi roomie, I didn’t see you yesterday. I’m Skye.”
She extends her hand, and I can only stare at it. I do not see the appeal of touching people after not touching anyone for so long. People are free with handshakes and welcoming touches from others. It’s something that I had forgotten that is expected when meeting people. The feeling of being a giant freak hangs heavy on me as I realize I can’t willingly return the handshake out of fear. What if I touch them and see something I wasn’t supposed to see? Carmen’s warning about glimpsing at things by touching them plays on repeat in my mind. I can’t help but wonder if I am supposed to wear gloves to help keep myself from learning any new gifts. I have enough abilities and issues from existing. No part of me wants to add anything new to the mix. “Salem.”
She nods as she pulls her hand back, not seeming upset with my lack of handshaking. “Are you going to breakfast? Mind if I join?” She doesn’t give me room to argue, even if I want to, as she grabs her bag before opening the door. “I hear the cafeteria is amazing! With fresh croissants and cinnamon rolls with that gooey icing.” She looks me up and down before saying, “You got that badass vibe going.” Once again, she motions me to follow her. “We are going to be friends, I can tell. Were your parents super bummed or just excited to drop you off? My mom cried, and my dad hoped I would learn some control.” She pauses and looks at me, expecting me to answer. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if she would let me answer. I am slightly envious of her positive energy, though.
“Yeah, it’s only my father. My mother isn’t in the picture.” I don’t know what more to tell her. She looks embarrassed now, so I cut her a break and change the subject. “What’s your first class?”
“Oh! It’s music and enchanting! I’m a siren, so I’m trying to improve my gifts. What about you?” she asks as we enter the expansive buffet-style dining hall with four stations.
“Weapons and Hand-to-Hand Defense,” I tell her, trying to be vague. A smell has me drifting to the right while Skye goes after cinnamon rolls.
“See you in a second.” She takes off for the sweets while I drift to the right, finding bacon. I can’t remember the last time I had bacon. Grabbing a pile on my plate, I nod before finding a croissant, excited by the buttery fluffiness. I look around for Skye but don’t see her, so I sit at a table before diving into the bacon. It is as tasty as I remember, maybe even more so, since I can appreciate the salty, smoky flavor of the bacon. The croissant contrasted the two even better. I should have gotten an egg and made a sandwich. Tomorrow is a new day.
My eyes water for a second before I shake it off. Meals were something that didn’t always happen, and now I sit here and can gorge myself. It somehow makes me feel guilty. I will never forget the feeling of my stomach when it felt like it was eating itself. Now, I feel like I have somehow cheated the system, and I don’t deserve it. This place somehow feels as if it’s going to make me soft. That’s something I cannot allow.
I hear Skye approaching. She is talking to someone, which makes me snort. I’ve known her for five minutes and suspect she only stops talking when sleeping. “Yeah, you can sit with me and my roommate. Her name is Salem.” My eyes move up to who she is talking to, and I give an uninterested glance before returning to my bacon.
Skye sits down before smiling at me, pulling out the chair beside her. The guy doesn’t move; he only stands there, his knuckles white as he grips his tray and glares down at me. “Is something wrong?” Her eyes are wide and innocent, looking up at him. Even my gaze drifts up to the guy, wondering what’s holding him up.
“Yes. How can you sit here and act like I don’t even exist? I planned on doing that, but I suppose it’s true. You are a liar, after all.” His curly blonde hair stops at his ears. We stare at each other, not moving. There is no spark of recognition, but he seems familiar.
I point my bacon at him, trying to make my brain work, trying to place him. “I know, I know you, but I am unsure how. It’s there, but it’s not anymore.” My brain is reviewing pictures and images of everyone I have met. I barely recognized Marcus or my mother for crying out loud.
“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re really playing up that the anti-fae movement kept you prisoner, aren’t you?” His nose crinkles in disgust. “You’re such a pathological liar. I didn’t want to believe it.” He sounds like he is about to cry, yet anger is the only emotion he lets out. He pushes his emotions to me, which hurts, but thankfully, the necklace Constantine gave me does its job. It barely makes me cringe.
My eyes narrow, and I squint at the kid. “I am many things, but a liar isn’t one of them.”
“Here, I thought I meant something to you.” The kid shakes his head.
I tilt my head, remembering that I had siblings. “Oliver?” I question him, trying to determine if he could be anyone else.
His brows furrow, and he looks at me with confusion written on his face, but shakes his head. “Like you didn’t know.” I should feel some way about seeing my brother, but I think very little about him. Maybe it’s because I don’t have our memories anymore.
“I truly don’t.” My shoulders shrug, and I wish I could give him more than that. “It’s nothing personal, they—”
Oliver cuts me off before I can explain anything. “Stop! Just stop. I don’t want to hear any more lies.” He looks over at Skye. “Do yourself a favor and request a new roommate. This one is a disease that will cause you nothing but problems. Trust me when I say she is trash. You can come sit with my sister Lulu if you want to.”
Damn, that slightly stings, but maybe he is right not to want anything to do with me. There is no way that Marcus will let him have anything to do with me, anyway. When my eyes look at Skye, she seems torn, unsure what to believe. She met me less than an hour ago. I didn’t expect any loyalty from her, so I decide to be a good person for a second—well, goodish. I dust the bacon crumbs off of my fingers rather dramatically. “It’s cool, Skye. I got to get to class, anyway. Be careful with those who follow blindly.” I don’t give them time to answer. I am taking my plate up to the dishwashing station. By walking away, I know I am ruining any chance of repairing our relationship. However, I know there isn’t a way to make him believe me. He lived in that house, probably believing everything Marcus spoon-fed him.
I can’t let myself feel bad or overthink my actions. Before I can make it to the doors, a blonde with curly hair stands in her chair. “Attention everyone! If you want to stay on mine and my father’s good side, you shun this liar.” She points her finger at me. “Stay away if you know what’s good for you, Salem!”
This must be Lulu; it’s good to put a face to the name. She looks like a doll. She’s still wearing pink, which makes me almost gag. This is a complication that I should have considered. I knew of their existence, but never gave them much thought. The people around us record the interaction on their phones. My eyes meet hers, and I give her a bored look. I keep walking and maintain eye contact before holding my hand up and flipping her off as I walk out of the cafeteria.
Oliver doesn’t seem like too much of a threat. Lulu seems like she is going to be a thorn in my side. There won’t be any flying under the radar with my siblings gunning for me. They both are clearly under Marcus’s thumb, which isn’t surprising. I already have enemies here, and they will continue to turn people against me.
I get to class a few minutes early and start stretching out and doing the morning routine that I used to do with 203. When others come in, I stop the routine and stretch. We are in an indoor gym with turf, which I enjoy feeling under my hands. It helps to distract me from the whispers as I hear Lulu’s voice from the cafeteria playing around me from people’s phones. I avoid eye contact with everyone and pretend they aren’t here. A whistle cuts me from my thoughts, and I look up, seeing a man in a navy tracksuit enter the room. He claps his hands together as his voice booms out in the room. “Way to get a jump on it. You all take notes. Who might you be?”
“Salem,” I say, hearing the group of primarily boys snicker.
I roll my eyes and hear mock coughing, “Liar,” inciting laughter from the other guys, which fuels the fire. “Attention whore.” Another cough rings out, and I wait for the professor to regain control of his class.
Instead, Professor Merrick laughs before blowing his whistle. “That’s enough, everyone. It seems as if the 19-year-old first year is already making friends. Maybe being held back did you some good.” He says this with too much amusement, as if the whole thing is funny. He is making it seem like I had chosen not to come, that I was being pampered and lazy at home rather than attending the Academy. “This is an advanced class; you will not receive special treatment. Dean Campbell warned me of your… presence.” His nose twitches as if he smells something rotten.
“Yeah, he is a fan of mine, but don’t worry, I’ll try to be gentle with your… class.” I hear someone snicker; at least someone has a sense of humor here.
He blows his whistle, “Pair up. We will do hand-to-hand to determine if anyone should change into a different class.” He walks around, looking at everyone before his eyes harden on me. “A less experienced class.”
This is shaping up to be a shitty day. I expected this to be hard, but I never thought it would be this bad day one. Constantine warned me this would happen, and as much as I hoped he would be wrong, it turns out he was right. The professor instructs us to get paired together to spar. We circle them and watch two people go to the middle of the circle we made, sparring, dodging blows after another.
“Gage, you’re up. Show Salem how we do it here.” Gage walks to the center and blows me a kiss. His eyebrow raises, highlighting his piercing, as he takes me in. He pulls his dark blonde hair back into a bun. It’s short on the sides, and he pulls off the long hair almost too well. He stretches out his arms, and I can’t stop eyeing him slightly, appreciating his body. He got the memo that it’s sexy.
“I’ll try not to bloody up your pretty face.” He says with a smirk, running his eyes down my body. I feel a rush of desire coming from him. Why does that make me feel flattered? My beast practically gleams in delight from him, appreciating our appearance. What the hell is wrong with you? We hate him. I question my beast, who only snorts in my head.
“That’s sweet.” I shoot him a wink. “Just know I won’t be returning the favor. I prefer my fights bloody.” He rolls his eyes before taking a swing. My body moves quickly and deflects his blow before my right fist collides with his abs.
“Oh, it’s on.” He says, amused, as he smiles at me. He looks more focused as his stance changes, going into full offense mode. I deflect one, two, and three-punch combos before he surprises me with an uppercut, which connects and causes my lip to bleed. He steps back with a smug look on his face. Little does he know he shouldn’t have let me have the space between us. When I smile at him and lick the blood off my lip, his smile disappears. Gage is right about one thing. It’s on.
Before he can blink, I sweep his legs and jump on top of him, punching him repeatedly in the face. He adjusts and twists his body weight, trying to flip me to get me on my back. I spin because I can’t let that happen. Ending up on his back, I throw my arm around his neck, choking him. He tries to stand, and with my free arm, I elbow his face repeatedly. His blood is in the air and smells delicious. It’s doing something to my system as I crave him. I don’t allow myself to focus on that. I only concentrate on taking him down as I continue to choke him. He staggers but makes it to his feet. I can feel what he wants to do. He wants to fall backward, using my body to break the fall between him and the ground. The move is one I would do as well, which will knock my breath away. I cannot let that happen.
One more squeeze on his neck before my hands grab and push off his shoulders, making my body fly up. Using that momentum, I spin so my thighs squeeze the front of his neck. I punch him repeatedly in the head, and he falls to his knees. Both hands push me off the top of his head, and I do a back tuck before landing in defensive mode.
Professor Merrick blows his whistle, and everyone stands around me, stunned. I wink at Gage, who looks dazed as I lick his blood off my knuckles. “Mmm, you taste better than I thought you would.” In return, I blow him a kiss. Everyone stands there stunned as I wait for further instructions. Yeah, I am not here to make friends.