Chapter 15 #2
Would I go to prison for downloading pirated comic books?
Although the phone was in his name, if justice were served, Finn would be the one to suffer.
“Focus.” He snapped his fingers in my face, and I leaned back. “This is why we’re discussing scrying. If you can see the future, then we need to figure out how. Because right now, it makes no sense.”
“How does it not make sense?” I argued. “I’m always right! ”
“Mu is logical.” Finn pointed at me. “However, some of your conclusions do not follow logical thought patterns.”
How dare he. “I’m still right.”
“For example, when Damen said you thought they were monks, and I thought—”
I’d slapped my hand over his mouth, and my face engulfed in fire. “He told you?”
Finn’s cheeks darkened, and he jerked away from my touch. “I heard them talking about it. He thought it was funny, especially since Tu was a priest. He said—”
“Miles was a priest?” I gasped, covering my own mouth. “But he’s a witch!” How could this be?
“He had also taken a vow chastity at one point in time.” Finn shrugged. “That’s why Damen and Titus were going to use your assumption to annoy him.”
“They’re picking on Miles?” My racing heart began to slow. And, for a moment, it felt like we were back in high school again—gossiping together on the roof of the school.
“And Titus too,” Finn reminded me. “He found out about The Hobbit, and Miles admitted that he suggested you read it.”
“What’s wrong with The Hobbit ?” Was there something I was missing?
“This is exactly why you need to focus,” Finn said. “You’re already going off on a mental tangent. But without learning to harness your abilities, you won’t be able to determine what is part of your power and what you should ignore.”
I frowned. “Brayden said I need to compartmentalize my emotions. I can’t trust what I feel because I don’t know if it’s me. Now you’re saying I can’t believe in what I think .”
“No,” Finn answered. “You need to know how to sort your thoughts. To determine which items need to be followed up on. ”
“But I research everything,” I pointed out. I was already one step ahead of him.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know.”
“Is that a problem for you, Mr. Stalker?” I couldn’t keep the disdain from my voice. Why was he acting as though he was the one inconvenienced here? “No one asked you to sort through my search history.”
“I was going to tell you this morning.” Finn shot me a wary look. “I’ll teach you. You should know how to meditate. In all the years we’ve known each other, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you just be still .”
I didn’t want him to teach me anything. I’d catch pneumonia if he made me sit under any waterfalls. “Why can’t Damen teach me?”
“Do you honestly think Damen can be near you and not be distracting?” Finn scoffed. “Would you be able to focus while he tells you dumb shit?”
A mental image of Damen holding a ruler flashed through my thoughts. Yes, he would be very stern. When he snapped into his professional mode, he was quite intimidating.
It would probably be for the best that Damen didn’t teach me a thing.
“Still, how do you plan to hide this?” I asked, pointing between the two of us. “They’ll find out, and Julian would be really upset.”
“That’s why we have to be discreet,” Finn answered. “He can’t kill me now unless you tell him to. But if Julian finds out what we’re doing, he’ll make sure Damen is the one to teach you.”
“Fine,” I grumbled. “How does someone meditate?”
I got bored within five minutes, and Finn had the nerve to complain that I was a terrible student. He had no idea what he was doing. I could definitely be calm and collected when necessary—but meditating? That was impossible.
“Clear your mind,” he’d said. “Focus on breathing.”
I couldn’t. The moment I tried to still my thoughts, memories flooded back, making it harder to breathe. And then, I couldn’t help but notice the strange patterns in the moss spread out over the stone.
So, really, I was observant. And that was a commendable trait.
Finn didn’t understand. So it was a relief when he told me the lesson was over and to sneak back to bed.
Sunday passed with the same uneventful rhythm as Saturday. The day started with a lesson from Brayden, neither of us mentioning Kieran. Lunch was a quiet affair with Julian and Miles. Titus was absent, and Damen still wasn’t ready to show me my new room.
Then, in the middle of the night, Finn sent Kiania to wake me. He wanted to meet once more.
She didn’t talk to me this time; her appearance was enough to let me know he was waiting. And the event led to a repeat of the night before.
It was almost depressing to consider that I could not, not think about anything.
Then there was school.
Monday turned out to be far less eventful than I’d anticipated.
Bryce ignored me, people stared, and Xavier kept his distance, giving me odd looks from afar.
Damen had finished my bedroom by Monday night.
The space was a copy of what I’d communicated to him, complete with an antique white canopy bed made with pink quilted covers, a fluffy bean bag chair near a mini-library, flower- shaped lamps, and a built-in window seat.
Damen—and Bryce—had even made sure to reserve a spot on the bed for the rabbit I’d asked Bryce to fetch.
My heart fluttered at their thoughtfulness.
I was so exhausted that all I could do was fall face-first into the mattress and sleep straight through until Tuesday morning. We were all busy, scrambling to catch up and settle into routine.
The rest of the week was a blur of trying to catch up on missed work, dodging the stares of my classmates, and seriously reconsidering my life as I grew to loathe French class more with each passing day.
For now, everyone seemed to have backed off from trying to pry answers out of me.
I had to catch up on my schoolwork. I was so far behind.
And every night, Finn sent for me. It became our routine.
I’d sneak out the window. We’d sit while he lectured about patience, and I tried not to call him out on his hypocrisy. Then I’d find something far more interesting than him to look at. Then he’d send me away only to do it again the next day.
He was so annoying.
By Friday, I was barely holding it together. The only positive aspect of this week was that I’d avoided seeing Dr. Nam, and no one had called me out about it.
Yet.
Bryce checked to see that I wore the ring before class began. Then, again, he ignored me for the rest of the class. But I was used to that now.
However, in French class, the routine had been broken. Xavier had been absent.
I hardly spoke to him, so I shouldn’t care about him missing class. Yet I couldn’t get past the gross feeling crawling across my skin .
However, it wasn’t until I’d left Miles after lunch that the proverbial hammer finally fell.
I saw them as I walked through the small courtyard between the Science and English buildings. A group of students hid behind the shrubbery beside the red-bricked pathway. They were familiar, and when I approached them, I knew why.
It was Heather—my lunchroom foe—and her gang. Their backs were to me, though, and their attention was focused on someone else entirely.
I moved behind them and looked across the way. There, sitting on a park bench—as she read a book in the center of the courtyard—was Jiayi.
She didn’t seem to have noticed Heather and her cronies.
Were they making fun of her? I thought she intimidated them. Or were they the sort to hide and gossip?
In either case, I didn’t like this.
I stepped past the groups and closed the distance between the dark-haired girl and myself. “Jiayi…”
She glanced up, her ruby lips turning down. “Hi, Bianca.”
“Can I sit with you?” I glanced back, but the group had already run away.
She shot me a strange look but moved over. “Is there something the matter?” she asked as I settled beside her.
“No.” I tucked my bag behind my legs. “Why would you think that?”
Jiayi spoke as if she was weighing her words. “Your assignment as my roommate ended rather abruptly.”
My face heated, and I covered my cheeks. I didn’t even consider how she might feel about Bryce showing up to our room in the middle of the night.
Bryce wasn’t the most sensitive person. The conversation between them was probably short and abrupt. He might have even made her cry .
I could imagine the whole scene now.
“I’m sorry.” I couldn’t even look at her. “It wasn’t anything you did.”
“I know,” she said. “Bryce explained everything.”
Dear Lord . I squeezed my eyes shut in horror.
“He told me the jig was up, that he was angry with me, and, most hilariously , that you two were married. He’s quite amusing when he’s in a fluster,” she said, touching her chin. “My favorite part, though, was him asking for your stuffed animal.”
My head was starting to pound. But then her words registered, and I peeked at her through my fingers. “Why would it be hilarious for us to be married?” Not that it was legal or that I would ever—even in my wildest nightmares—want to make it real.
But that wasn’t the point. People were supposed to believe in our love.
“You two do share a familial connection.” She smoothed the pages of her book down. “But not by marriage. You’re brother and sister. Besides, your fate isn’t connected to Bryce Dubois.”
“What?” How did she know?
Jiayi shot me a patient look. “I’m Damen’s Tongjun.”
“What?” I repeated, leaning back. “Wait, so you knew about me?”
“Yes, I knew.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I was briefed before you became my roommate.”
“Oh.” I looked at the ground. She was almost as short as me, and our feet were roughly the same size. My light shoes and ruffled-lace socks starkly contrasted her dark black tights and shiny black ankle boots.
Why did I ever think that we might be friends ?