Chapter 13
My perpetual state of denial dissipates the moment I spot William walking toward the dining hall for breakfast the following morning.
Everyone’s huddled in groups or pairs, but William is by himself, outwardly looking like any other Ivernia student.
For a split second, it’s as if I imagined everything else.
Then I recall the weight of those coins, the tidy dates inked in his journal.
The unexplainable and the impossible colliding into chaotic nonsense.
This does not happen in real life.
How do you go about correcting an implausible reality? Wrapping my head around William’s presence is already bewildering enough, not to mention it goes against most laws of physics and carefully constructed scholarly theories.
The grass is speckled with misty dew from the night before. I weave through chattering students on the paved walkway and slip beside William.
His grin reaches his eyes. “Good morning.”
“Hi.” I lower my voice. “Where did you get the uniform?”
“Sumner,” he says like, What else would you expect?
I make a quick mental checklist of items he may need.
His own uniform, for starters. Clothes to wear in his downtime.
A toothbrush—though he must have acquired one by now.
Did they even have toothbrushes in 1859?
He can get by using the computers in the library, though not having one does make him stand out.
He’ll need a crash course on how to use it, let alone type.
We only have so much time before the lost luggage excuse wears thin.
All of this is costly. I don’t have that kind of money, but that’s an issue for later. If I revive my old iPhone and connect it to Ivernia’s Wi-Fi, at least he’ll fit in better.
“It is beautiful here, is it not?” He flourishes a hand toward the dining hall. “Will you join me for breakfast?”
“Oh.” This is unexpected. “You don’t want to sit with Sumner and his friends?”
He shrugs. “I’d like to sit with you.”
The words are so direct, so earnest, that a hot flush climbs up my neck.
I don’t have what I’d call a magnetic personality.
Madelene demands attention because she makes performing seem effortless, therefore creating a mesmerizing draw.
Jared gathered praise because he was good at captivating audiences during speech and debate competitions.
I’m not like them. I am not charismatic or interesting, and I don’t have any spellbinding qualities.
At least, not one that attracts someone like William.
“My achiever, my thinker, and my performer,” my dad used to call us.
I was never certain what he meant by it. Thinking didn’t feel special. It felt mundane, something everyone does. And when you know what others think of you, it feels like a curse. The curse of living up to the expectations they put on you.
So I say, “Okay, sure,” and pretend like I am not melting under his fervent gaze.
“Delaney.” He comes to a sudden halt. Two students veer into the grass to avoid crashing into him, scuttling around us. “Have you ever experienced the utter delight,” William asks seriously, eyes wide, “of whipped cream from a can?”
Several minutes later, as we sit down for breakfast, William scoops Fruity Pebbles topped with an excessive amount of strawberry jelly and whipped cream into his mouth, eyes gleaming with sheer joy as he chews. He’s even brought the entire can with him.
Analiese and I occupy our usual window seat in the dining hall, now joined by Lionel and William.
It’s not lost on me that we are an odd group.
A cacophony of voices bounces around us.
A few people glance over at the new student, but otherwise nobody seems to pay us any mind.
Relief fills me, because this can only mean he’s mostly fitting in.
“I need scandal,” Analiese is saying. “I need intrigue.”
We’ve once again circled to her newspaper problem. I’m tempted to tell Analiese the real story is Ivernia’s impending closing, but I refuse to speak it into existence.
“Teacher profile?” I suggest instead.
“Too uninspired.” She sighs. “God, it’s so uneventful here.”
I try not to choke on a swig of water.
“—but it’s not until level two when you meet the zombies,” Lionel’s explaining through a mouthful of toast. William listens with raptured amusement. “And they are hard to kill.”
Analiese is staring at his cereal, which looks like a science experiment gone wrong. “I’ve never tried it like that.”
William dips his spoon back into his bowl. “It’s very good.”
“They don’t allow certain cereals in the UK,” Lionel says. “Because some food dyes are illegal over there.”
“And that,” I say a little too loudly, “is why Enzo loves it.” If I’m overeager to explain his unordinary behavior, I don’t think anyone notices.
“God bless America,” Analiese jokes. “So. You’re from London?”
“Dunbry Park,” he corrects.
“A really, really small town,” I encourage. “Tiny. Microscopic.”
“I love it here,” William says as he dabs at his mouth with a silk handkerchief he produces from his pocket. Analiese notices. “But my father doesn’t quite understand why I prefer my studies. He’d rather have me marry and take over our estates.”
“Marry?” Analiese blurts. “That’s wild. We’re so young.”
“Because—” I grasp for a way to make this make sense. “His father got married young. Enzo comes from, uh, a traditional family.”
“What are your aspirations?” William asks her. “I’d think an attractive woman such as yourself would take interest in a strong matrimonial proposition.”
Analiese scoffs. “First of all, I’m seventeen—”
“Ah, so your dowry is less than desirable?”
“My what? If you’re talking about my trust fund, it has nothing to do with what I intend to accomplish in my personal achievements.”
This conversation is on the precipice of not only derailing, but going up in flames.
“The marriage market isn’t something we”—I gesture around the collective space, hoping he’ll take the hint—“are concerned about right now, considering there’s a lot of freedom in what we, uh—can do on our own.”
It feels as though I’m staring a hole straight into his soul, but finally he seems to get it. “Of course, forgive me.”
Analiese leans back in her seat, her hands balling her paper napkin into a crumpled wad. Careful observation flashes behind her eyes. It’s that journalistic glow she gets when she’s trying to analyze something.
This was a terrible idea.
“Hey, Enzo,” Lionel holds up his Switch. “Wanna play sometime?”
“I would love to,” William says as he goes in for another spoonful.
“Rad,” Lionel says, the word hushed and excited under his breath.
William reaches for the can of whipped cream and sprays a heaping tower onto a breakfast biscuit.
I move my eggs around with my fork and try not to focus on Analiese’s eagle-eyed concentration on William.
A second later, Sabine and Inessa enter the dining hall and start grabbing trays.
I wave when they glance in my direction, which they return enthusiastically.
Sabine points to the back of William’s head, then pretends to fan herself.
I blush. No one else notices.
“So that’s what you want?” Analiese presses. “To marry and take over your family’s real estate business?”
He frowns. “Not exactly,” he says warily. “I enjoy my studies. I had an excellent professor back at my old school.”
“What are you interested in?”
“Natural sciences.” He takes a beat to consider this. “Physics, mathematics. I’m fascinated by so much. Here I’ve come to realize I can freely pursue what I want.”
I know that here doesn’t just mean Ivernia, but an entirely new century.
Without all the initial confusion casting doubt and uncertainty, William seems more upbeat. Less uptight, more relaxed—except his posture, which remains graceful in a way that comes with practice. I don’t know if happy is the right way to describe it, but maybe curious. Intrigued.
“Okay, so dream big,” I say, reaching for my coffee. “What do you want?”
William doesn’t hesitate. “If I could, I would become a professor myself. I admired my prior instructors, but I wish to learn as much as I can about all subjects under the sun first. Not just mathematics and science, but our history.”
“You can teach,” Analiese says blithely as she studies something on her phone. “If you really want to.”
William seems to consider this. His brows soften, lips parting. “Perhaps,” he says, the word faint.
It must weigh heavy in his soul. Because this isn’t William’s true reality, and he knows it. The facade crumbles when talk of the future begins to seep in. We both know this is not meant to last.
I wonder if he’s thought about his family—or if he tries not to think about them.
He must realize they’re gone, lost to the passage of time.
It’s a feeling I relate to, though I wish I didn’t.
If I were him, I’d also want to return to the people I love most in the world.
And if an impossible occurrence can happen once, who’s to say it can’t happen again?
We have to figure out how to help him return where he belongs.
When Lionel and William get up to rid their dishes and trays, Analiese whirls toward me.
“I got it,” she says in a hushed whisper. “My story.”
A sinking feeling spreads across my ribs. “Do you?”
“It’s him.” Her eyes flit to William. “There’s something off, isn’t there?”
“What?” I blurt.
“There is,” she decides as she organizes our dishes on my tray and the trash on hers, then stands. “You know me, Delaney. I trust my gut. My gut is telling me to follow this.”
“Analiese.” I round the table so I’m standing beside her.
My pulse skips. Yesterday Sumner and I agreed to keep William’s secret between us, but I’ve never hidden anything from her before.
“Enzo—he’s having a weird time right now.
” I suppose that’s one way to explain it.
“Maybe cut him some slack? Because he’s new? And probably homesick?”
She studies me for a long moment. “You have a crush on him.”
“I barely know him,” I protest, despite the betrayal of my rapidly trilling heart. “That’s not what’s happening here.”
“Fine. Maybe.” She gathers the tray of trash. “But he is my number one topic of interest if nothing else pans out.”
Before I can protest further, she walks across the dining hall.
I cross my arms on the table and bury my head.
This is not good. Analiese’s sleuthing capabilities are sharp and often scarily accurate.
I have no doubt she can uncover where the real Enzo is and why someone claiming to be him is walking around Ivernia.
So it’s settled. I either have to find a way to come clean about this unfathomable mess we’ve found ourselves in, or I have to do everything in my power to keep William’s real identity a secret.