Chapter 19 #2
I start toward the stairs leading to the bedrooms, but Sumner slips through the doorframe and blocks my path. “What subject?”
“Delaney, that’s not allowed, and you know it,” Mr. Whelehan scolds.
A few students gawk at this reprimand. Someone even releases a low oooh.
My face flames. Sumner cocks a brow. I hadn’t seen Mr. Whelehan in the corner grading papers.
Our instructors reside in an off-campus housing complex and take turns rotating commons shifts to ensure students are on their best behavior.
“You should do your homework instead of watching my streams,” Sumner’s arguing as he follows me to an empty couch where I casually slide my hands under the cushions. “I—no. I’m not sure yet. I’m going to try, okay? She’s not answering my calls.”
There’s a subtle shift in his tone. His whole demeanor has morphed into uncertainty, which is the exact opposite of how I’d describe him on any given day. He takes two steps away from me, running a palm down the back of his neck as he paces.
“Love you,” he’s saying. “We’ll FaceTime tomorrow—yup, five o’clock. You got it.”
William moves closer to observe my effort. His arms are crossed genially behind his back.
“I guess you’re not telling me where he hid it.”
“I suppose I cannot, since Sumner took no part in retrieving it,” William offers. “I did.”
My head snaps up. “You did?”
“He mentioned gaining the prize might make my company more palatable.” A smile tugs the edges of his lips. “And he was correct. I’ve been receiving praise all day. It is marvelous.”
I don’t believe it. William did this. Successfully.
“I’ve also apologized to Kinsley and Inessa for the unkind things I said,” William continues.
“As a gesture of my good intentions, I presented them with wildflowers I found near the hiking trails. I truly meant no harm.” He glowers.
“And I’ve extended an apology to Stelmak, though I withheld any type of accompanying physical gesture of my internal frustration. ”
A golden warmth fills all my shadowed spaces.
I don’t think anyone at Ivernia has received flowers for any reason, and a sincere apology goes a long way.
Maybe it’ll show people he’s more than poor, judgmental opinions.
He’s learning. He’s trying. He may be English nobility, but his title means virtually nothing here as Enzo Giannotti.
The faster he can accept this, the smoother things will go.
“Oh yes,” he adds. “And I’ve also extended an apology to Brayden for assuming he’d recently come down with the plague when, as you say, he was suffering a common cold. Though, to be frank, he appeared quite unwell.”
I repress a snort. It wasn’t exactly fair to expect William to perfectly assimilate after missing one hundred and sixty years of progress. I shouldn’t have been so hard on him. And even though I had, he’d made things right anyway. Or maybe it was all those YouTube videos Sumner subjected him to.
I must have a strange look on my face because William goes, “Have I done something wrong?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I think that’s great. And if you can try and refrain from calling people commoners, that would be even better.”
William removes his journal from his blazer pocket and begins to jot something down. “Understood.”
A few fencing guys walk through the doors, still in their cream-colored jackets, laughter erupting between them as they shuffle inside.
Sumner hangs up and collapses beside me.
A crestfallen glaze is apparent in his vacant eyes.
I stop rummaging. Right. What am I doing?
We have bigger things to discuss. I’m focused on the wrong objective.
But I get a sense he’s dealing with his own problems.
“Your brother?” I speculate.
Sumner gives me a sidelong glance. “Yeah,” he sighs. “Kids are never denied lunch at his school, but he needs his account paid off. My mom hasn’t, I guess. So I’m going to—and then get yelled at for doing it.”
I twist my dad’s ring around my thumb. “Why would she get upset over that?”
“You’d be surprised.” He tips his head over the back of the couch. “She does her best, don’t get me wrong, but it makes things difficult when she doesn’t want to communicate.”
I can’t imagine my own mother cutting me off. If I ever needed anything, she’d answer the phone. She checks in. Texts GIFs of beating hearts just to say she loves me. Asks if I’ve done my laundry. There’s never been a moment where she intentionally ignored me.
“That must be hard.”
“It is what it is.” He rights his head and his glasses edge down his nose. “She’s a server and has a side business making jewelry, so her income fluctuates. And she thinks I accept extra money from my dad, which I don’t. It’s a point of contention.”
“Do you have a job or something?”
Sumner’s eyes flick toward mine. “Carmichael,” he says, “Why do you think I live stream solving equations while gaming all the time?”
“You make money doing that?” I can’t keep the shock out of my voice.
One corner of his mouth lifts, that tilted smile returning. “There is an entire community of people—most of them students—who need math explained a little differently in order for it to click,” he explains. “The gaming aspect is a bonus because I’m a nerd and I like it.”
“Well, that part is clear.”
No wonder he spent so much time going live from Jared’s room over the summer. I thought it was a way to pass the time, not actual work. At least, not the clock-in-clock-out work I was doing as a hostess.
William is deep in conversation with some coding guys. I hadn’t noticed him leave our vicinity.
“But your mom doesn’t believe you?”
“No, which is hypocritical because he wanted to send me here and she had no problem accepting that.” A heavy exhale escapes his lips.
“But anything else I take from him is a betrayal. It’s why I couldn’t go home last summer.
Preston had been talking about this overnight camp nonstop, so I saved enough to enroll him.
She didn’t want to tell him no because then she becomes the bad guy, so she let him go but gave me the silent treatment.
Staying at home was hard with her refusing to see my side, so Jared told me to come. ”
That’s how he ended up staying with us. I can tell it hurts to talk about. And I get it. It’s messy and complicated when it shouldn’t be.
Something must change in my expression because Sumner goes, “Don’t.”
“What?”
“Feel bad for me.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Because I had the chance to go to Argentina last summer and I turned it down.” Regret laces his words.
He clears his throat. “My dad might not talk to me, but he pays my Ivernia tuition. And my mom might be stubborn, but she loves us. She gives Preston as much stability as she can. It’s not nothing. ”
“I know it’s not,” I say, because it seems like he’s building up defenses to excuse behavior that feels inexcusable. I don’t say that, though. I can tell it’s not an opinion he wants to hear. “Why Argentina?”
“My grandmother lives out there.” He raises an eyebrow at my surprise. “I know. I’m white-passing, but my mom’s half Argentinian. I’m a quarter. I’ve never met her side, but I had the chance and said no, so don’t feel bad for me.”
It’s the second time he’s stressed it, so I don’t push back, even though I want to ask why. There are so many things I’m learning about Sumner, I realize, like collecting pieces to a puzzle I didn’t know I was working on.
“You know we need to stay here if we’re going to figure this out,” Sumner says, changing the subject.
I allow it even though I have a dozen more questions. He’s right. If William’s cosmic anchoring point is here, we’re going to need to make sure Ivernia stays open in order to have a fighting chance at sending him back.
“I had the same thought,” I say. “But how do we buy more time?”
“With the millions of dollars we don’t have?”
“What don’t you have?” William chirps as he rejoins us.
I’m careful to keep my voice low. “The means to stop a very rich man from forcing us out of here. He technically owns the estate.”
“Hmm,” William says thoughtfully. “You cannot afford his offer?”
“Me?” A dry laugh escapes from my lips. “No.”
“Then perhaps a wealthy benefactor.”
“Oh,” Sumner deadpans. “Sure. Of course. Let me go call them.”
“Not an option,” I tell William, though I can’t help wondering if a constant surplus of funds is how he solves his own problems.
“Well, you could always attempt a charity bazaar,” William says as he taps on his phone, watches the screen darken, then taps on it again before repeating the entire cycle.
I straighten. “A what?”
“You know,” he says impatiently, as if it’s something I’ve misremembered. “An organized auction put forth by your community. Selling tickets, providing entertainment. Raising funds.”
“Like a gala,” Sumner says thoughtfully.
We stare at each other. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it first. We might not have millions of dollars, but there’s an extensive list of wealthy alumni who might show loyalty toward a school they once attended by offering services for others to bid on.
If we’re able to raise an impressive amount, maybe it would be enough for a down payment and allow Ivernia to stay open.
I lunge from the couch and throw my arms around William, whose torso is much more solid than I expect. He startles at the sudden burst of affection.
“Thank you,” I say as I let go, my feet already guiding me to the exit.
Sumner sits up. “Where are you going?”
“To put together a plan.” I’m already halfway out the door when I turn back and add, “Before it’s too late.”