11. Trinity
Chapter 11
Trinity
I make sure I’m awake before the first bell rings. While I was slaving away in the laundry yesterday afternoon, I had a lot of time to think.
I meant what I said to Perry.
This place is all I have.
So I’ve got to make this work. Fuck knows how, but if I’m going to spend a good three or four years here, I need to make peace with the natives.
Starting today.
I run a hand through my curls as I sit up in bed. It was too cold to sleep in my usual pajamas—cotton boxers and a vest—so I put on a sweater before crawling under the covers.
Jasper shoves away his blanket with a groan and then swings his legs over the side of the bed and yawns. When he sees me staring at him, he freezes.
“What?” he snaps, going to get his clothes from his closet.
“Did I tell you I’m thinking about becoming a teacher?”
Jasper scratches his hip without answering. He yanks out a pair of clothes and tosses them to the bed. I guess he’s not going to shower this morning. Though, from the smell of sweat rolling off him, he really should.
I’d still love to know what he did to get himself stuck with me as a roommate. But that’ll come in time. Right after I turn him into my BFF.
“Thing is, I was homeschooled,” I go on as I start untangling my curls with my fingers. “I’ve never really had anyone to practice on.”
Jasper’s shoes thump to the floor, and he slips them on without bothering to put on socks first.
“Boo for you,” he mutters, and exits the room in his trunks and vest.
I guess he’s used to the cold.
“Fuck,” I mutter to myself.
Guess he’s not a morning person. Well, at least I planted the seed. I’ll try again at breakfast.
Should I shower before school starts?
Jasper left the door open. Half-dressed boys of all ages stream this way and that across the hall, some with towels slung over their shoulders.
I sniff at my pits and shrug. At least I don’t smell as bad as Jasper.
Father Gabriel leads us in prayer at the chapel. Since I got here early, I had my choice of seats. I didn’t want anyone creeping up on me again, so I’m sitting near the front. This way Gabriel can watch over me.
But as soon as the provost is done addressing the school and reading today’s scripture, he walks off stage. Not even a glance in my direction. It’s like he’s forgotten all about me.
I hesitate for a second, and then hurry after him before I can second guess myself. I hope this isn’t a restricted area, because I need to know what I can do to earn my own room. And a proper school uniform. One that doesn’t come pre-installed with lice.
I push open the door Gabriel disappeared behind and walked right into him.
“Trinity?” He frowns at me, and for just a second there’s something very unfriendly in his eyes.
“Father. I’m—I’m sorry to just?—“
His eyes soften from wood to velvety chocolate. “Gracious, I’ve been so caught up, I haven’t had a chance to check in with you.” He grabs my arm and leads me to a nearby table with a set of chairs. “How are you, child?”
I sink down, but he remains standing, forcing me to crane my neck to look up at him.
“It’s been an adjustment,” I admit. I was going to honey coat it—no use complaining when I’m trying to show him how well I can adapt—but he’s always had a way of drawing the truth out of me.
Did he have that same effect on Mom and Dad? Did they tell him things without wanting to?
Bad things?
Sinful things?
I push away the thought. This place is making me jump at shadows. How can anyone stand it?
“I would imagine so. Tell me, how are you finding the classes? Have your teachers been accommodating?”
Teachers.
Of course! That’s my way in.
“That’s actually why I’m here.” I twist my hands in my lap and force out the words before I can lose my nerve. “Is there a chance, I mean, do you think I could try and…?”
“You may speak freely, child,” Gabriel says. He shifts his weight, looking for all the world as if he could stand there all day while I fought my tongue.
“I want to be a teacher.”
He nods, waits.
“I’d like to teach here when I’ve finished high school. Is that…would that be…?”
Gabriel cups my face in a hand. I start at the intimate gesture, but I don’t pull away. The last thing I want is to offend him. His usually vacant smile deepens. It’s not the first time I’ve seen his dimples, but I can’t remember when last he looked so happy.
“You truly are a remarkable girl.”
Pressure wells behind my eyes. I drop my eyes, but he keeps me looking up with that gentle pressure on my jaw. His hands are warm, slightly calloused—which is strange for a man of the cloth. “Is that a yes?”
“I would love nothing more,” he says.
He turns to leave, and then pauses and turns back. “I’ll send someone to collect you tonight.”
I was in the process of standing. My knees lock, leaving me in a weird half-crouch. “Uh…why?”
“We shall have dinner. God bless, Trinity.”
I almost manage to reply.
Almost, but not quite.