Chapter 4 Quinn
Quinn
“Quinn, honey, say something!” My dad’s voice sounded so far away.
I blinked a few times, wobbled, and then screamed as I wrapped my arms around the tree branch under me. I was high up in the oak tree outside my apartment building, with no memory of getting up here.
“Quinn, it’s OK. I’m right here,” my dad said from below me.
“Is she stuck in a tree?” Zack, one of my childhood bullies, asked him.
“No!” I yelled. “I can get down.”
I didn’t know if that was true, but I needed to get down. I didn’t want to give Zack more ammunition, and my dad needed to see me be strong. I needed to be strong. Dad said so over and over.
“How did she get up so high?” Zack asked, almost impressed.
“I don’t know. She must have climbed,” my dad answered, less impressed. “Why don’t you get back on your bike and head home?”
Zack didn’t. In fact, he pulled out his cell phone and typed before pointing the camera at me.
Tears stung my eyes, but I pressed my lips together so hard they hurt.
I inched backward, bark scratching at my legs and grabbing my shorts like it wanted to keep me there.
I yanked them free, but they kept bunching up, digging in where it hurt.
My back bumped the trunk. I sat up, heart pounding. I could get down. I had to.
The sound of speeding bicycles filled the air as Zack’s pack of pre-teen friends joined him.
“I think I can see her underpants. Look at that wedgie!” Zack pointed. The group laughed.
My cheeks burned with shame.
“You guys need to leave,” my dad stated.
But they didn’t.
For better or worse, my fear made the world fade into the background and dried my tears.
Only me and the tree existed. My pulse beat in my ears.
I turned, and one slow grip at a time made my way down the tree.
It felt like hours before I reached the bottom, and by the time I did, my scrapes were bleeding freely.
The front of my shirt was in tatters, exposing my training bra.
A small twig with leaves still attached was wedged in my ruined French braid.
But I’d made it down without anyone’s help. Pride literally beamed off me. I’d taken care of myself. Even Zack and his cronies couldn’t take that from me.
“Come here.” My dad grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the group of laughing and picture-taking boys.
“You need stronger medications.” He squeezed my hand.
“We had a few good months before this. I was reading about Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing. I don’t know what traumatic experience started all of this, but everything is traumatic now.
We have to find the right treatment, and you’ll be normal. ”
A glob of blood dripped from a cut on my cheek, and my pride melted into guilt. It didn’t matter that I’d made it down on my own. I shouldn’t have been up in the tree in the first place.
I woke up in a bed, not on the ground or in some other delusion; this was the same bed I snuggled into last night. I hurt everywhere, but not from injury. An achy burn from my workout filled my muscles and made me smile.
Like with Rowan, I’d let my mouth run and my eyes roam over Ezra.
Unlike with Rowan, I’d manage to actually check in with myself to see if straddling the tall, dark, and handsome shirtless mage over a bench press would make me happy or not.
And the truth was, I liked the fantasy, but acting on it wasn’t me.
I wanted more from a man than sex, especially for my first time.
And maybe I shouldn’t pop my cherry, banging my subconscious, because that’s what sex in this delusion would be.
I ran my hand down my face and groaned. It was too early for these thoughts.
Sunrise spilled pink and orange through the skylight overhead. Four clear cauldrons hung at its corners, the same kind I’d seen in every room so far. They could glow, but I didn’t know how. For now, the morning light would have to do.
I stretched, letting my memories of Ezra’s hands, positioning my body, and spotting my exercises wash away in the first morning rays.
Every touch had been platonic; I was reading into things. I didn’t know if he liked me, and it didn’t matter. He’d be gone in a few days anyway. For the first time, I kinda hoped Doctor Oz would take his sweet time.
With the sun fully up, I stopped lounging and sat.
Although the outside of Grady Hall had that dark medieval vibe, the inside looked almost modern, well, for a round tower filled with windows.
The stone walls had been plastered over and painted a calming shade of blue.
My bed sat above a desk with a ladder at the foot, and a kitchenette nestled into the wall opposite the stairs leading down to my landing.
I eyed the identical empty bed across the space.
I didn’t want a roommate, especially here, in my all-male dorm.
All male.
Brody.
I let out a frustrated groan. He’d answered my questions, at least.
AT and BT stood for after and before the tremors: the disaster that changed the very foundation of Earth’s energy a hundred years ago.
Physical earthquakes shook the world so hard it changed the basic principles of energy.
Electricity and fire vanished. With the collapse of civilization, society broke into families, each holding its own values and governing system.
Slavery was alive and well. Body snatchers were specialists in exactly what their name suggested.
A chill settled around my neck. If the scenarios weren’t separate.
.. I rested my fingers against my pulse points, feeling the warmth of my skin and not the cold from the collar that still haunted my dreams.
No. I wasn’t going there. Delusions. That’s it: a string of dreams. What had I watched before my surgery that sank so deeply into my subconscious?
A handful of movies came to mind, but none of them were similar to this.
Scenario one began with me waking up in a futuristic space pod with its lid open.
Moments after I sat up, a single flashing red light went out and plunged the space into darkness so deep I thought I’d died.
Fear gripped my heart, freezing me in place. I didn’t want to remember any of this.
Breathe, Quinn. Ezra’s voice came to me out of nowhere.
Like last night, I did what I was told. One deep breath, then another, calmed my unexpected panic. The big picture didn’t matter. All I needed to do was deal with the here and now until I woke.
My bladder squeezed, threatening a water leak. I put my thoughts to bed to start the day.
The room was cold, but I didn’t mind. I wrapped myself in layers of sweatpants and hoodies, clothes that hid my gender, for my quick trip to the communal bathroom. Like Hope said, no one gave me a second glance. They only saw what they expected.
When I returned to my room, I found a glowing baby-blue cube, about the size of my fist, resting on top of what resembled a semi-transparent gray book on my desk.
My heart raced. I looked for signs of a break-in.
A cracked, ancient tablet controlled the door lock when I pressed my hand to it.
But that’s all it did. The tablet was a flat surface for whatever spell now clung to it.
I peeked down my stairs to find the door still shut and the tablet dark.
Nothing else in the room had been disturbed.
I calmed down and studied my desk before poking the book-looking thing.
It was solid enough, though oddly squishy.
I picked it up by its cover, which made the baby-blue cube roll onto the desk.
The book fell open. ‘Pages’ fluttered and blurred before turning back into the semitranslucent gray.
A light circle was carved into the desk, exactly where the book had been.
A collection of lines and dots ran through it with a big X through the middle. Maybe magic?
Duh, magic.
I picked up the baby-blue cube next. The moment I did, the glow vanished, leaving behind a rather large six-sided stone block with nothing on it.
I turned it over, and bright gold words appeared on one side, accompanied by a schedule-ish block of text, which I assumed was intended for me based on Hope’s brief introduction yesterday.
I was due in Crown Square for a placement test at ten.
Right. I had no idea what time… nope. That was a lie.
As I kept turning the contraption, seven forty-five appeared on one side, along with a little picture of the sun, right above the seven.
The weird cube was some sort of clock/schedule keeper. Maybe Miss Q’s manifestation of a phone? I would literally kill for ten minutes with Google right now.
I flipped the cube a few more times, but the rest of the sides were still blank.
Right. Whatever. Moving on.
Another glowing paper-like sheet caught my attention, lying partially under my desk. This one was much smaller and in white.
Sorry about Angela. A peace offering on her behalf. A book to solidify your fundamentals for placements. Make sure you lean it against a wall or two. You never know.
- Rowan
P.S. I don’t actually know where you live. I gave this to the librarian, and she put you on the delivery route.
P.P.S. It’s signed by the author, and I will eventually need it back.
My cheeks started hurting, and I relaxed the crazy smile stretching my face. Rowan, my Witcher look-a-like, remembered me. He’d set it up, so I’d have to see him again to return the book…unless I could give it to the librarian and have it delivered to him as well.
I groaned. He said he’d done this on behalf of Angela, his contracted suitor, or whatever the girl part was called. He didn’t like me. Shit. No. Full stop. None of this was real. I needed to cool my heels.
I slid to my couch and cracked open the odd squishy book, scanning the first page. A General Guide to Harmonizing with the Electrical Field of Earth, version seven, by Osric Tate the fourth.
An excited wiggle ran through my body. Even after reminding myself this wasn’t real, in my hands was a book on magic. And for better or worse, until I woke up, I might as well soak up every bit of knowledge Miss Q invented.