Chapter 10 #3
My spit tastes sour, but I swallow it instantly, yuck! maintaining a straight face to feign truth. “I just remembered what you said in class. We are the diamond, and we will come out shiny. Or we will not come out at all.” That took way too much strength for me to quote her.
She stares at me with darting, devil-like eyes. Fear flutters in my stomach, but I keep my head up to suppress the shiver sprinting through me.
“Well, you don’t need medical treatment like the rest, so get out! Now!”
I start to leave, but her words stop me.
“And by the way, Shantavia, good job. I’m impressed. I don’t usually give out scores on the spot. But you might have just scored a C. But then again, if no one else scores a C, then it’s a fail in my book.”
I stare at her, silent and lost for words. “Thank you,” I spit out.
I walk out of the door breathing heavily. I sigh in relief. At least that’s over.
In a rush, I take off my sweater and stuff it into a drying locker on the side. I quickly scan my thumbprint, sending it to my dorm. Then I enter the drying station nearby and a gust of air surges toward me. I barely wait five seconds before leaving the station. That’s dry enough.
God! I don’t even know how I just figured that test out.
At this point, I honestly don’t care if I pass or fail.
All I care about is that I’ve come out of that test unharmed.
They lied to us in every way. The rules were wrong, just like Pesh hinted.
I wish I had access to his mind, to acquire all the information he has about The Commons.
I walk into the hallway, but my mind can’t help but wonder if these tests have something to do with my sister’s disappearance.
Perhaps they’re like a puzzle, and the more tests I can pass, the more clues I can get to fit all the pieces together.
Maybe the clues I need have been all around me all this time?
Or what if not? What if I’m trapped? What if I don’t have what it takes to find my sister?
What if I can’t figure this out? What’s going to happen to me?
But even worse, what’s going to happen to my sister?
What if she didn’t survive these tests? What if… she’s dead?
I feel a flush of heat rush through my head from my racing thoughts.
Blood runs through my veins, causing my lips to jerk, so I take deep breaths to control my emotions, placing my hands on my mouth and coughing softly to cover it up.
I really hope the Meaning Test can help me make sense of my thoughts.
This test I have absolutely no preparation for.
Just as I take a deep breath, a shadow covers my gaze, jolting my steps. My gaze drifts up to see… Pesh. But before I can catch my breath, he speaks.
“Put on a sweater.”
My mind runs wild for a moment. “What?” I mutter, confused.
He turns to me with that charming smirk that could drown oceans.
And just before I can exhale, he takes a step closer, the movement sending a rush of heat through every inch of my body.
I tighten my fists, hurling my hands behind my back to stop its tremor.
I’m… honestly so cold. But his presence is really hot… warm. Which is nice.
Then his voice whispers, so close, too close to my chest, my hair, my neck, my lips, my everything, “Do I need to say it again, Tavia?”
Tavia? No one has ever called me that. And…
Why does it sound so alluring when he says it!
“I…” I try to collect my thoughts. “You walk out on me, you don’t speak to me, except for two seconds and now you see me and you tell me to put on a sweater?
” I just now realize my attire is not as dry as I thought.
Well, I didn’t really wait for the recommended time, so I’m not sure what I expected.
I just wanted to get out of there, fast.
His gaze diverts to the right as though scanning a Patron nearby. I look to check, but before I can, his hands grab my chin, pulling it back to him—up to his mountainous frame. And once again, I remember what he just said…
“And if I don’t... what will you do? Will you sentence me to detention?”
“I may just.” He smirks like he’s completely harmless, and I don’t realize when a smile escapes my lips. Then in one beat, he’s smiling again, not his face, his charming vainglorious eyes. “And pull down your skirt.”
“What else are you gonna tell me to do next? Take off my clothes?”
“No. I wouldn’t say that. I would just do that for you.”
I gulp as he steps closer, blocking my view completely—before I can see who’s approaching behind him.
“I don’t have my sweater with me. And moreover, what is the necessity of this?”
“The Patrons are watching you.”
“I… But my skirt is not improper.”
“I never said it was. It’s…” His breath quickens?
Slows? Deepens? I can’t think straight. I just know it’s even deeper, even more husky, even more consuming, and I didn’t think it could be so.
“It’s… incandescent.” His whisper drowns me completely, sinking my mind into an ocean repeatedly, and I can’t escape its addiction or stop myself from standing still under him, right where he wants me; listening to every word he says, craving every word he says like it’s the air I breathe.
“The way the panels of fabric fold on others is simply design, but on you, it is simply divine. It is a reflection of the way every breath in me folds at the sight of you.”
“I doubt that.”
“Don’t.”
A gulp rips through me. My body feels like it’s on a furnace. My legs draw back, and he draws closer until my hands are behind the pillars. My eyes jolt up to meet his, and still he continues in a moment that feels like a dream.
I should hide, but I can’t look away even if I tried. My entire being is on a spell, longing for his every word.
“One frivolous sight of your gaze is like catching a sight of the stars ablaze. One idle glance of your eyes is like looking at the firmaments across the celestial skies.”
He’s no longer talking about my attire. He’s talking about me?
“One trivial touch of your hands is like grazing fire, like catching oceans, like flicking past lightning, like catching a glimpse of gold in human form.”
What in the Commons heck was that? No. No. He must be playing me. What sick game is this? I have to stay alert, but my heart is burning, every part of me, and I can’t... breathe. What did Pesh just do to me? Not a single touch. And he has unraveled me.
“They’re not interested in me.” I can barely speak, hands tugging on my skirt from behind to pull it down.
“I’m interested.”
He draws close, my heart instantly racing.
“I don’t understand. You hate me one moment and the next you—”
“The next I do what?” He glides his palms to his body, removing his golden-camel sweater, exposing his slightly unbuttoned shirt, his muscles sharp like a sword. Oh my. This is the first time I’ve seen him in a sweater.
“Um…” My eyes glide down, catching a glimpse of the veins of his hands as he hands me something, his sweater?
Oh, to me! I’m supposed to wear it. A breath leaves me, and I try to breathe, every part of me pounding, hot, tense—as he completely towers over me.
My fingers quickly glide to take it, and I rush to slide it on, not wanting him to see how flushed my hands are.
In a flash, I hurl my fingers back together behind my back.
His gaze narrows, no doubt wondering what I did that for, making my heart race even more.
He licks his lips with a smile like he’s laughing at me on the inside, but I look away from his deep hypnotic eyes, so I don’t expose myself even more.
And just as I do, he pulls down his sweater even more, revealing its full length.
And I just now realize because of his height, it swallows me and trails all the way down—past my hips, my skirt, my thighs and much more.