Chapter Eleven #2
At the end, Thaddeus paused, sighed, and stood, walking towards Ajax and holding his hand out. The boy seemed to understand and pulled out the vial we all knew was filled with someone’s blood out of his jacket pocket, placing it carefully upon Thaddeus’s awaiting palm.
The older man didn’t pause to inspect it, only moving down to August. “You all are now under my guidance. And the only advice I would prefer you keep at the top of your list of priorities is to rely on each other.” August followed Ajax’s actions, and when Thaddeus moved to Wolf, he spoke again, “You are extended pillars of the board, and if one crumbles, the rest will soon follow.”
For reasons he never divulged, whether it was cold feet or caution, Wolf hesitated. Rain tightened her fist, her thumb pressing into the side of her closed hand as she watched him.
In the end, Wolf pulled out the vial tucked in the inside pocket of his uniform jacket, placing it onto Thaddeus’ palm.
As he came around to collect our completed work, Thaddeus didn’t approach me, and for a moment I wondered if my position was in jeopardy.
It was funny, really. I hadn’t wanted to accept the invitation, but as Thaddeus overlooked me, a hunger for his attention, for a place in the Founder’s Society, bit at my gut.
Why isn’t he collecting my vial?
Did I already fail?
At what? How?
Anxiety filled me and I wasn’t able to focus on his words, the familiar fear I’d grown up with nipping at me. My fingers itched to pull at something. To knot my fingers into my sleeves.
“I will see you all next week. I hope you keep my words at the forefront of your minds.”
As the others stood to leave, Thaddeus spoke again, this time, finally, to me, “Alexandr, a word.”
His voice was deep and seemed to penetrate through my skin and into my increasing heart rate.
Wolf, like I had done not long ago, looked back with furrowed brows and curious eyes.
August walked behind him and, thankfully, pulled his attention away as they both stepped out.
When the room emptied, Thaddeus felt it appropriate to speak freely, “Your vial?”
I stood from my seat and pulled it out of my pocket, moving closer to place it into his awaiting hand.
I didn’t dare let anything show on the outside, ignoring the way the pregnant silence was making me feel.
The way I was standing in front of him made me feel like a soldier reporting to his general.
I stepped back and glanced at the exit. “Is that all?”
I knew it wasn’t, but he took a while to voice the words he wanted to say in private, “You were not a first choice.”
His words weren’t as hurtful as anything I had heard before, but for some reason, they hurt anyway. I hadn’t belonged anywhere all my life. I preferred it that way.
But I was beginning to enjoy Castle Hill. I felt it was the perfect place for someone like me. Secluded, providing of all my needs, and filled with people I didn’t share a lick of similarities with.
His words felt as if he was implying I pack up my singular bag and hitchhike back to the airport. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Thaddeus Saltford-Windsor was a powerful man, of that I was aware, but watching his power used on me made me feel like the helpless fourteen-year-old I once was.
He let out a deep breath. “Exactly what I said. You were not who… the board was hoping to find. Who they were hoping to be the seventh Society member.”
I slid my hands into my trouser pockets, pressing my thumbnail into my pointer finger. “So, who was?”
He regarded me coolly. “That is of no concern to you,” he said, flicking off imaginary lint from his pristine suit jacket. “What is, however, is that you hold yourself to a higher standard than the rest of your peers.”
I had already planned on doing so, but his words made me want to do the exact opposite. “And why would I do that?”
“Are you in need of an incentive?”
I knew what he was implying. But threatening me wouldn’t work, and we both knew he would have to kill me to replace me, which would be a hassle on his part.
But I digress. “No, sir. I’m not.” The topic of the book chosen just for me before the very first meeting was at the very tip of my tongue, but a drop of doubt inside me held me back. Caution of what I might be revealing by asking.
Thaddeus watched me with a simple smile; arms sat lazily on their respective armrests. “I think that concludes this short meeting, thank you for your time, Alexandr. I hope my words have been just the kind of motivation you needed.”
Despite the power he held over me, he remained ruthlessly diplomatic.
I always had an unhealthy habit of admiring those that threatened me.
A force pulled my eyes to the shiny watch resting along his wrist, for only a second before I met his gaze again, my eyes blinking like a child caught coloring on the walls. Thaddeus’ gaze narrowed at the moment, but I was already turning away, walking at a practiced pace.
Stepping out of the library shouldn’t have been easy with the supposed weight of Thaddeus’ words, but somehow, it was.
It was simple, really. One step after another.
I was well aware of what had to be done, and if I didn’t follow through, there would only be my poor calculations to blame.
The point of anxiety wouldn’t be worth it.
Either I succeeded or I didn’t. Both fates, only I had a hand in controlling.
Stepping out into the cool night air, a figure moved from the corner of my eye, turning into Abbot House.
It was too dark to tell who it was, but I knew the seven of us were the only ones outside or at least allowed to be out of our dorms at this hour.
Without much thought into it, I followed, moving across the square connecting all the other buildings together.
I didn’t bother walking around the lawn, cutting straight across the grass.
When I reached Abbot House, a feeling of familiarity overcame me.
I remembered vaguely the same path I’d taken a couple weeks ago.
At the very top of Abbot House, as I creeped up the dark steps, was the student body president's office.
Why would Rain return to her office at such a late hour?
Perhaps it wasn’t my business, but I had stayed behind to talk to Thaddeus, and she’d only just walked over to Abbot House when I finished. It would be a shame if I didn’t seize the opportunity to follow her.
I could hear muffled voices, getting clearer as I reached the platform of the spire. The only light illuminating my vision and allowing me to use it as a beacon was coming through the crack of the open office door.
The floor didn’t creak as I approached and pressed myself against the wall next to it, listening to the voices filling the otherwise silent night.
“Do not misunderstand me, Rain Jett, you have built something for yourself here. That, I will acknowledge, however, it is something I expect from you.”
It was silent for a few moments, and I leaned forward to see what was happening inside.
Rain.
Rain, the student body president who made even the most conniving of students want to avoid any run-ins with her, stood to attention with her head bowed. Even from here, I could see her lips pressing together, almost in a struggle to keep the words she wished to speak from coming out.
Out of fear?
The woman standing in front of her had to be her mother. The resemblance was uncanny, but the similarities in body language were even more so–at least when Rain wasn’t holding herself back.
It was almost as if she was reducing herself to fit the persona her mother expected from her, which was ironic considering her mother’s words, to say the least.
“Scarlett would not be so disappointing as you have proven to be. It is such an unfortunate shame that your grandmother insisted on your appointment into the Founder’s Society.”
Her words, the words that made her aging face twist into a malicious scowl, made me freeze despite my already unmoved body. I held my breath at the shock her words rang through me.
Rain pushed further into herself; her hands didn’t dare curl into fists, but I didn’t miss the way they twitched. Or perhaps they were planning on reaching for the letter opener lying on the desk they were standing too close to.
It would be so easy, too.
Rain’s voice came out softer than I’d ever heard it, “My appointment was simply because of my age. Every twenty y–”
Her mother laughed harshly, the sound burning into my ears, unpleasant memories boiling just at the surface of my skin. “If you really believe that, you truly are the failure I tried convincing myself you weren’t.”
Watching this side of Rain reminded me that I really didn’t know anything about her. The person in front of me was too meek to be Rain Atlas Jett. And maybe that's why she hated Marigold so much. Maybe she just saw her own reflection.
“I thought Marlon was the failure. Huh? Matter of fact, where is he? Where is my broth–”
The first time Rain’s voice came out strong, getting louder with each word out of her mouth during that conversation, allowed me to understand why she didn’t do it often.
She barely finished her sentence when her mother’s hand, as quick as a viper, cracked down across her cheek.
Rain’s head whipped to the side, and I couldn’t see her expression as she remained frozen in that position.
She didn’t dare cradle the now red skin.
I cringed at the sound, the image. The skin on my scalp felt too tight, the kind that didn’t go away no matter how hard you scratched.
Though, it wasn’t something that bothered her mother as she spoke, her tone like poison dripping from between her lips, “Mention Marlon again and you can forget coming home for the holidays. Do I make myself clear?”
Rain’s nod was almost hard to catch; the only way I’d caught it was by the swaying of her hair.
I wasn’t sure why, but I didn’t stay after that. In fact, I didn’t remember deciding to leave, or leaving, for that matter.
I blinked, and I was in front of my dorm, unlocking the door and stepping into the dark room almost mechanically.
I blinked again, and I was in the loungewear from my closet, slipping into bed.
I didn’t remember falling asleep, but I did remember that I dreamed. I dreamed and forgot it wasn’t a reality. That I wasn’t back in Chicago under my father’s seedy apartment roof, sitting next to my mother as she lay on the bathroom floor, too high to clean up and take herself to bed.
But as the night continued, the dream changed, and I wasn’t in that small apartment anymore, except I wished that I was. After seeing the messily made bunk beds and the boys' clothes thrown over headboards, I wished to God that I was.