Chapter 25
ELLE
“So school is going well? Nothing odd to report? No kidnappings or violence?”
Mom’s voice has its usual soft tone, though I can sense the worry even through the phone.
While she talks, I notice Quincy’s brown cardigan is unraveling at the sleeve. As she leans forward, picking up the mug of steaming hot tea on the study table between us, the fraying fabric catches my attention and refuses to let go.
She could sew it or at least roll the sleeve up, but instead she pretends she doesn’t notice. I try to look away, glaring at the astronomy textbook in my lap.
Apparently, dissatisfied with my weekly updates, Mom and Dad called Quincy and forced her to corner me in the Obeliskos for more. Luckily, we’re in a corner far from listening ears, but I’m still trying to keep from talking too loud.
I don’t need anyone knowing I still check in with my parents, or that they require it.
Mom rattles off more questions, and I imagine her standing in front of the kitchen sink at the Asphodel wringing her hands together.
She’s probably staring out the window at the beach behind the house and the endless rows of rosebushes and hydrangeas that Aunt Violet has helped her cultivate over the years, since Mom sorely lacks a green thumb and Violet owns a flower shop near the marina.
“Do you realize how weird that is to ask your child?” I ask when she finally pauses for a breath, forcing my gaze away from Quincy’s cardigan. “No kidnappings or violence at school?”
“What’s weird is that you didn’t automatically answer.”
“If you don’t satisfy her curiosity, she’s gonna crash your party,” Violet says from somewhere in the background.
“Trust me, she’s got a bag packed,” Aunt Cora chimes in, sounding slightly farther away. “And if she goes, I have to go. Those are the rules now that Asher and Lucy are living together.”
“Please. Those have always been the rules with you two. Then you drag me and Wolfe along.” Dad’s voice hovers close to the phone, and I imagine he’s bending down to kiss Mom’s forehead or smell her or whatever other weird gesture he has to do.
When I was growing up, they were always touching in some way, whether it was the brush of their pinkies or him slipping an arm around her waist or pulling her into an alcove for a kiss.
And it wasn’t just my parents. All the adult couples in our lives seemed so deeply, madly, incandescently in love that I spent half my life sick with envy and wondering when my time would come.
I wanted someone to look at me the way my dad looks at my mom—like she’s hung the sun in the sky with her bare hands and is the sole reason he’s alive.
“In almost three decades, I’ve never heard either of you complain,” Cora says. “Vi, on the other hand…”
“Because you’re always ditching me,” Violet huffs. “My own brother, leaving me to fend for myself. Be glad he’s your father and not a different relative, Noelle, because the dynamic matters.”
I smile to myself. The main reason our family extends so far beyond blood relations is because of the connections my dad has and how secretly soft he is. Sure, Mom is the glue holding everyone together, but they were caught and adopted by him.
A former Mafia physician. I guess when you’ve seen the things he has, maybe you’d want to spend the rest of your life surrounded by goodness.
“Anyway,” Mom says, and the background noise falls quiet. “So things are okay, my love? When you enrolled, you still seemed a little…off, so I’m just trying to make sure that school isn’t making things worse. It’s an odd place.”
“Odd being the operative word,” Dad adds, and I wonder if she has me on speaker. “You know the deal, Noelle. The slightest hint of a problem—”
“And I call you to come get the three of us,” I finish, looking at Quincy again as she continues reading, pretending she isn’t listening. And that I’m not lying. “I know. And if I do anything to jeopardize my safety or Asher’s or Quincy’s, you cut me out of the inheritance.”
“Kallum,” Mom chides. “We didn’t discuss that as a punishment.”
“There had to be something at stake, little one,” he tells her. “But it won’t be an issue either way. Right, Noelle?”
My heart thumps idly inside my chest, and I gnaw on the corner of my lip. I should tell him about the cloaked figures I saw in the Primordial Forest. I should warn him that this school is a lot stranger than he probably realizes, since Quincy’s admitted to keeping the truth from them.
But if I do, he’ll pull us out of Fury Hill faster than we can collectively blink, and I’m not ready to leave. Going back to my parents’ house already proves what I fear most: that I’m not ready to be out on my own and not cut out for the real world.
Hollywood didn’t want me. Fury Hill probably wants me dead. Sure, those are only two places in the entire world, but to me, it’s starting to feel like I’m not destined to get anything I want.
“Right,” I tell him, even as the dishonesty makes my throat constrict.
We hang up not long after that, exchanging a few more uncomfortable pleasantries, though it’s hard to tell if that was my issue or if they could feel it too.
“You’re being weird.” Quincy interrupts my thoughts without glancing up from the Botany of Empire book balanced on her leg.
“Yeah, well, you’re always weird.”
“Good to see Avernia’s done wonders for your rebuttal skills.”
I make a face. “I’m not looking to become the next debate team captain.”
“Right, that would be beneath you.”
Something about her tone causes me to bristle. I sit up straight, my defensive walls rising. We’ve not spoken much since the day in the Apollodorus basement, and it’s clear there’s been tension from the moment I arrived in Fury Hill, but the blatant digs feel more serious than before.
“What’s your problem, Q?”
“I don’t have one. I’m just making conversation.” A long pause ensues, and she sighs. “How’re classes?”
“Fine.”
“Good.” She taps her fingers together. “Have you thought about joining any clubs or organizations? The Daughters of Persephone has an opening, if you’re interested.”
Disgust pulls my mouth taut. “I don’t think campus beautification is something I’d be very passionate about as a long-term goal.”
“Then what is your goal? I thought you wanted to come here to be closer to me, or Asher, or even Lucy, but now I’m not so sure.” She purses her lips. “Why Avernia of all places?”
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
“Most people would see death and curses and run the other way. Yet you ran toward.”
“I guess I’m not most people.”
“No, you’re not. I used to like that about you—how free and unrestrained you were, especially with your time and emotions. You loved acting, but it wasn’t something that translated to real life. You used to be honest to a fault, yet I just watched you flat out lie to our parents.”
“You admitted you’ve been lying to them about the degree of danger around here. Did you want me to tell them the truth?”
“There are responsibilities—” She blinks, cutting herself off and snapping her mouth shut.
A few students near the desktop computers at the far end of the lobby glance over, disturbed by the raised volume of her voice.
“Not everything is as cut-and-dried as you believe, Noelle. Some of us can’t afford to be truthful. ”
Hurt clouds my chest. “What’s going on with you? This place… You’re different.”
She scoffs. “You mean I’ve changed in the ten years since I left home?
Shocking stuff, truly. And you’re one to talk.
After seven years of you hardly ever visiting and rarely speaking to us unless we called first, you just gave up on your dreams completely?
I find it suspicious. What happened to you in California? ”
“Nothing.” Irritation flexes in my fingers, making them rigid. As if she didn’t make me participate in the torching of the dean’s house before the start of the semester, showing that I’m not the only one of us who’s changed. “It’s none of your business.”
“Did nothing happen, or is it none of my business? Can’t have it both ways.”
No, and apparently I can’t have it my way either when my big sister is a know-it-all who can’t let shit go.
“There used to be this light in your eyes…” she says, cocking her head to one side as she studies me, like I’m some plant she’s trying to determine the life cycle of. A specimen with quality issues she needs to inspect and fix. An ancient text she can’t quite translate.
“Everything is fine, Q. Pinkie swear.” I hold my hand up in offering.
She gives me a long look but eventually exhales and leans forward, hooking her finger around mine. For the briefest moment, we’re little kids again, promising to keep each other’s secrets.
As I discreetly unlink my middle and index fingers on my free hand, I note that I used to keep them crossed back then too.
“Hey, Elle!” Lexington shouts from the back of the Obeliskos. He waves, and out pop Percy and Meg from behind him. “Do you want to run lines for Othello auditions with us?”
Shoving my books into my backpack, I sling the strap over my shoulder and stand up. Quincy stares straight ahead as if I’m still sitting.
“What were you doing in Professor Dupont’s office that one day?”
She glances up at me, narrowing her eyes. “Why do you care?”
“Do you like him?”
“Again—why do you care?” She stares for several beats, then clears her throat. “You know you can’t sleep with him.”
“Who said I wanted to?”
“Noelle.”
“It’s a fair question, I think. I’d hate for your relationship to interfere with my grades.”
“I wouldn’t let that happen.”
Swallowing, I wait for her to elaborate.
Quincy’s always preferred girls to guys, but sexuality is fluid and personal.
None of us kids are straight, mostly identifying somewhere between bisexuality and pansexuality with caveats in between, but I’m not exactly sure where she falls on the spectrum currently.
She has dated men, so I can’t put it past her to be involved with Sutton.