Chapter 9 #2
This is the perfect moment to ask him about Levon, but I lose my courage. Instead, I say, “Like the Patron De Londe? He’s the one who picks you guys, right?”
“Correct.” We stare at each other.
Beginning to let my guard down, I respond, “Why don’t you do something about it? Try to be the change?”
“Things aren’t always that easy.” He comes closer to me. “You would know that, wouldn’t you?”
Is this about Levon? “What do you mean?”
“With your parents?”
“Oh! I didn’t mean to say all that in the Oratory Test.”
“I know you didn’t. But I liked that you did, with me that is.” He takes another step forward.
“So, is that why you helped me in the hallway? Because I lost my chill on the O Test?” I move back, rubbing my feet together.
“No. Because I’m beginning to think I can trust you.”
I look his way, drawn, but before I ask about my sister, I push for a stronger confirmation. “Why’s that? It’s not like you understand what it’s like to feel powerless.”
“You would be surprised.” He goes to sit down at the corner in front of the grass garnished wall. “You’re not the only one who doesn’t feel seen, Shantavia.”
“I just can’t see how anyone can possibly ignore you, Pesh.”
“Neither can I, you.”
I fold my lips to hide my smile at his validation. I sit down right next to him and cross my legs, growing comfortably nervous in his presence. “Parents?” I ask.
“Parent.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“My mom’s gone,” he says, “But my dad, all he does is hurt people and hurt me.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“Sometimes I think about my mom, and I think the biggest mistake she made was marrying my dad.”
“It can’t be that bad?”
“It’s worse. My mom died because of him.”
“What? That’s horrible!”
“I mean…” His voice cracks. “She killed herself.”
“Oh my goodness.” I stare at him, grief-stricken.
“She was like a best friend, you know, and I lost her just like that. It’s infuriating, losing someone and having no power to bring them back.”
“Yeah. I know the feeling…”
“We did everything together, we even had the same birthday, July 1st, and then one day she was gone, just like that.”
I shift myself toward him, drawing closer. “How old were you when it happened?”
“I was ten. Twelve years ago. You know it’s his fault for not loving her the way she deserved. Now I regret facing the day that I was born, wondering maybe if it was… my fault.”
“It wasn’t your fault!” I say passionately.
He turns and looks at me with glimmering eyes.
“I think you should confront your dad on how he treats you.”
“I plan on it. Do you?” he says, tilting his head toward me.
“Even if I could, I don’t have my cell phone so…” I respond, fiddling with my fingers.
“You can get a free pass from the Patron who initiated the demerit, if you have been in good standing with him since then.”
“Seriously?”
“Come on, let’s go. The freshmen student phone station is in the O Library. You get ten minutes.” He stands up, helps me up and starts walking toward the library.
We arrive at a dimly lit private phone locker space.
Pesh hands me my phone from its assigned phone locker, and I enter the calling booth—a small, dark room like a Catholic confessional.
He stands at the corner, waiting. My fingers race, one after the other, dialing my mom’s phone number in nervous anticipation. I wait. But it goes to voicemail.
I dial my dad’s this time, and the same thing happens. “They didn’t pick up.”
“Call again.”
I call again. My mom picks up this time.
“Hey, hon, I’m about to have a meeting with the president, can I call you back?”
“No.” I close my eyes and tighten my fist.
“Excuse me?”
“No. No, you can’t call me back. You literally cannot!
It’s like you can’t bring yourself to. Why am I never good enough for you?
Am I a mistake to you? Is that why you ignore Levon and me?
Because we hinder you from rising in society and being successful?
Is that the reason, Mom? So you act like we don’t exist?
Are your children a burden, then why the heck did you have us? ”
“Honey, I don’t know where this is coming from.”
“From my heart. For the first time, I’m giving you my heart. And I really hope you don’t crush it.”
Blandly, she responds, “It came out today in the news that your recommendation for The Commons was Governor Solodia. How could you ask my political rival? Do you realize how much damage you’ve caused my campaign?”
“Mom, I’m so sorry. I thought you would understand when you knew it was for Levon. Mrs. Solodia was the only person I knew who went to the school.” My voice breaking, begging, hoping, crying. “I promise, Mom. I had no other option.”
“We always have options.”
“Mom, please! Please! I’m begging you, please—”
The phone is breaking up, and my heart is breaking even more.
“I have to go, my meeting with the president is in thirty seconds. Like I said, I’ll call you back.”
“Mom, please—”
She cuts the phone. My heart caves. I drop the phone, fuming on the inside, tapping my legs to control my sadness. Pesh comes and sits next to me.
Head down, I wipe away a tear that drops from my eye. “I guess that’s the price of power. Relentless pursuit while every other thing suffers, including your children.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way. I’m sorry it is, for you. And I know it’s hard for you to believe, but you are good enough. And your worth is not defined by their response, or lack thereof, or anyone’s response to you in fact,” he says.
For a moment, I’m lost in his eyes, but it’s a struggle to fully believe his words. “What if I need to find something to prove that I’m good enough? To find myself, even?”
“I don’t think you can find anything. Or anyone. Until you find yourself.”
I can’t help but notice his emphasis on anyone.
Is he talking about Levon? He must be. What else could he mean?
“I think I’m finally believing that’s true,” I say.
“I think I’m finally understanding who I am, especially after that conversation with my mom…
and being here with you. I’m starting to think I’m someone who’s willing to fight for what and who I believe in.
I thought I had to win every time, so I was afraid of trying without some type of guard or shield or sign from the other person. ”
Why am I telling him all these things? But I can’t help it. The words just keep running out of me.
“I was always afraid of failing, but I realize, it’s okay to fight with the sword of love, of unconditional love. Regardless of if I win or not, love never fails. I still have to fight, just like I did with my mom just now, for the first time in a long time.”
He stares at me with a steady and admiring gaze. I look down and scoff, trying to control myself from talking anymore about me.
“Can I fight for some truth out of your lips?” I ask with a light smile.
He nods in response.
I had tried to be subtle, but at this point, it’s hard for me to speak without being honest about my reservations in his presence, because of the effect he has on me.
So I just ask, “How did you go up in rank and become a Patron? Now, you have so much power… did you have to take any student out? Or physically hurt anyone to get there?”
He looks around to make sure no one is here. He draws closer with a bold and intimidating gaze, yet I am not scared.
“What do you think?” he asks.
“I don’t know. People say Patrons can take anyone ou—” I stumble on the word.
“Is that what you believe? What people say?” he asks with genuine intrigue in his eyes, not like the sound of my speculation is an infuriating trigger; but more like the sound of me knowing anything about him from other people is the trigger.
“I’ll believe whatever you tell me,” I respond.
He feels the challenge in my eyes, so he closes in on me. This time, I’m a little scared.
He lowers his voice, and his words drop directly into my heart. “Don’t believe everything that you hear. Not even what I just said. It’s up to you to discover the truth for yourself. And when you know the truth, it will set you free.”
Pesh thrives on being a mystery, but I’m done with mysteries, so I go right in for the punch. “Set me free! Like from the dangers of the study abroad? Or should I say, The Seventh Zone?”
He interrupts me instantly with a completely different tone. “There is no Seventh Zone.” He stands up and pulls away from me. “You’re a second late for your dorm check. We never spoke to each other.”
It’s already 8 p.m?
I don’t want to leave. I want to know why he reacted the way he did, to push him to tell me the truth. To peer into his mind, to read him right here and now, but I don’t have time.
I make a brief unimpressed look, cut it, then leave. I know he wishes he had ended that conversation on a kinder note. At least, I wish he does. And if he wants to help, he will have to come to me. If he really cares about me, he will stop giving me so many mixed messages.
I am all alone now.
I get to my dorm a few minutes late, but Beatrice is not around to penalize me. I wonder if Zia covered for me? I have to sleep. Soon, I’ll have to take the test of death—the Chemistry Test.
But I can’t sleep. All I can think is, why did he freak out when I asked him about The Seventh Zone?