Chapter Thirteen A skirmish of wit
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A skirmish of wit
MY FIRST CLASS WAS MUSIC theory. It was on the other side of campus, in one of the two interconnected buildings where the School of Fine Art students were crammed together.
Of course, it just had to be a morning class.
I woke with little more than half an hour to spare, showered, and threw on a skater dress and an oversize sweater from my suitcase before making the trek from Poppy House to campus with my sheet music and bag in tow.
With orientation behind us, every inch of the grounds was teeming with energy.
But despite the swarm of faces and the rush of voices, part of me was apprehensive about wandering campus alone.
It was easy to get lost in Westfield. I’d learned that quickly in my first few days here and, again, I found myself struggling to find my classroom.
The elevators were packed, so I took the stairs, pushing past a cellist hauling their instrument up two flights and a soprano belting their runs.
On the third floor, some lectures had already begun.
Other rooms remained empty, with grand pianos perched at their center and rows of chairs and music stands gathered around them in a circle.
In yet another room, students gathered to rehearse a performance.
I scanned the hallway, searching for my classroom amid the packed corridors. Instead I spotted Honey in the crowd of students, making her way toward me.
“Sianna,” she said, breathless. “I’ve been looking for you.”
I glanced around, trying to find an escape.
“I have class right now.”
“I know. It’ll only take a few minutes.” Honey smiled, but it didn’t quite meet her eyes. She gestured for me to follow, and led us to a small alcove with a window and a bench. “It’s about what you saw in the maze.”
“You mean the figure with red eyes—”
“Me and Alaster,” Honey said, cutting me off. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t, um, tell anyone about it. I mean, it’s bad enough Ojore—I mean, Jojo knows. And obviously I didn’t want Sem to find out either,” she said, nicknaming Kasem. “But if it gets out in the school, it could ruin us both.”
“I’m not concerned about helping you two maintain your relationship,” I said.
She looked deflated. I sighed, forcing myself to say the next few words, even if they felt wrong.
“But I’ll keep your secret.” As far as I was aware, only Honey and Kasem had been caught by Provost Henning.
“I know what it’s like being at the bad end of gossip,” I continued.
“If you want to sleep around with a creepy older guy, that’s your prerogative. ”
Honey grinned, throwing me into a hug, which I barely managed to shimmy myself out from.
“I knew you were a darling.”
“I don’t agree with what you’re doing.”
She laughed. “I’d think less of you if you did.”
“So why are you?” I said, gesturing awkwardly.
“I don’t know.” She let out a deep sigh, looking embarrassed. “It just kind of happened with us. We grew up together, you know—me, Alaster, Ojore, and Kasem.”
Her words caught me off guard. Here was another secret Jojo had kept from me. Here were more of his lies unraveling.
“I’d thought Jojo and I would be together forever,” Honey continued.
“Our parents and the board of trustees did too. That’s why Kasem called me Jojo’s ‘ex-intended’ back in the maze—Jojo and I had been expected to marry after we’d both graduated from Westfield.
But then that horrible campus audition fire happened a few years back and, well, he didn’t end up inheriting Westfield, and things changed between us all. ”
The mention of the fire and how casually Honey referenced it was a knife to my chest. I tried to calm the anxiety knotting through me, even though my voice trembled when I spoke. “I don’t think I understand.”
At the time of my audition, I hadn’t known much about the politics of Westfield. All I’d known was it was the music program of my dreams. And then, suddenly, my dream had become a nightmare.
Honey seemed surprised by my confusion. “Jojo didn’t tell you that he was going to inherit Westfield first?
” I shook my head, and to my relief, Honey explained without being condescending.
“Well, that year, he was supposed to inherit the Westfield estate. He’d been managing all of these things on behalf of the board of trustees to prove that, outside of his blood claim to the inheritance, he’d be competent enough to actually run the estate.
One of his responsibilities was running enrollment activities, like the auditions for new music students.
Obviously, the fire wasn’t his fault, but after that, his mother and the Board changed the line of inheritance.
Kasem was there that day too, and he’d helped people evacuate during the fire, while Jojo just sort of crumbled under the pressure and chaos—not just that day, but for weeks after.
They stripped him of his title, made Kasem the new heir, and it was like Jojo just disappeared. ”
I took a seat, finding it hard to breathe when my world was unraveling. Honey sat too, patting my thigh. I’m sure she thought I was reeling from the fact that Jojo had been engaged to someone else, when, in reality, that paled in comparison with this revelation.
Jojo was supposed to inherit Westfield. Jojo was there the day of the fire.
“Obviously, our parents ended the engagement they’d planned for me and Jojo,” she said.
“But Kasem refused to be part of any such agreement. He never really played by the Board’s rules.
When I found out Jojo had agreed to take the job offer from Alaster and come back this year, I was shocked.
I don’t know how he accepted it after the way the school treated him when things went wrong. ”
I pressed my bag closer to me, taking in everything Honey had told me even as another crack formed in the image I’d created of Jojo.
I hadn’t known him at all. And Kasem, he’d been there at Westfield on the worst day of my life.
Both of them had. For so long, our lives had been entwined, and it was only now that I was untangling the threads that bound us.
“So you and Alaster have an arrangement?” I asked. As much as I wanted to uncover Jojo and Kasem’s past, I needed to learn about Alaster too. If he was part of this, then having information on him would help me piece everything together.
Honey nodded, though her expression was restrained. “My parents want it. The Board wants it. So, they turn the other way.”
“And you’re okay with that? I mean, this isn’t the 1800s.”
“That’s just the thing about free will. Everyone thinks they have it, until they realize they never did.
” Honey laughed. “If you’re asking if I’m choosing to be with Alaster, I am.
But do I want to be? Well, why wouldn’t I?
He’s a Saint James, after all. My parents and the Board want to strengthen our ties to their family. So, I guess Alaster will do.”
At my silence, Honey tried to lighten the mood.
“Enough about me. There’s another reason I was looking for you.”
She reached into a designer bag and handed me a flyer. It had Greek letters along with birds—crows, I wagered—drawn across the letterhead.
“My sisterhood, Theta Omicron Delta, is throwing a party on the eighth for those interested in rushing. It’s a joint event with our brother fraternity. Vivian told me your birthday is the day after. She said she overheard someone mention it.”
I sighed. I’d have to talk to Vivian about eavesdropping on conversations that had nothing to do with her.
“Anyway,” she said, “it’s open to anyone interested in rushing. You should come—both of you—and we’ll celebrate.”
“That’s not really my scene.”
“Think about it. You might change your mind. And even if you don’t want to rush, it’s a great way to meet people.
And cute guys. Not that you seem to have any trouble with that.
” She glanced at the bracelet with a knowing smile.
“You know, I’ve never been able to get either of them to let me wear that.
Not even when Jojo and I were supposed to be together.
And obviously Kasem is a nonstarter. It’s cute that he let you wear it, though.
And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made those assumptions about you and him in the maze. ”
Instinctively, I shifted my sleeve to cover it.
“Sounds like you’re still making them,” I said.
“And Kasem and I are…” I searched for words, but the only thing between me and Kasem was the memory of the night in the alleyway and the hours before at Gus’s shop; moments too fleeting to mean anything beyond the circumstances we’d gotten caught up in. “We’re nothing.”
Honey nodded, as if that was the answer she’d been expecting.
“That’s what he told me when I asked, though he did call you a little bit of a stalker.”
“He said what?” I spat, heat burning against my cheeks.
Honey laughed, neither confirming nor denying the accusation.
“It’s okay. Who among us hasn’t stalked a Saint James brother?
It’s, like, a rite of passage here at Westfield.
” She shoved the flyer in my hands. “Which is why you should definitely, totally come to the party and find other Sigma guys to obsess over.”
I didn’t know if it was the embarrassment or guilt swirling through my chest. But I took the flyer. Maybe just to spite Kasem.
“Fine,” I said. “I might make an appearance.”
Thankfully, that placated her. But by the time Honey left and I found the right lecture hall in the Music Department, class had begun.
Through a small window in the classroom door, I glimpsed the space.
It was one of the more intimate lecture halls; on a circular stage, the professor stood in front of a newly furnished whiteboard, and around him, the concave outer circle was seating filled to the brim, with each chair tucked tightly next to the other.
I scanned in by placing my key card against the reader at the door, and a notification lit my phone.
When I swiped it open to see why, my student profile showed that I’d lost fifteen points from my merit pool for being late to class. Annoying.
The door squeaked when I pushed it open.
Beyond the professor’s voice booming through the auditorium, silence weighed heavy here; every awkward cough, every note scribbled with paper and pen or typed on a keyboard drummed through the auditorium like thunder.
I slipped past rows of filled seats until I found an empty one next to a guy with auburn hair, glasses, and freckles that were starkly visible on his skin in the fluorescent lighting.
Vaguely, I recalled him from Poppy House.
“The sign-in sheet already went around,” the guy whispered. He adjusted his glasses. “We’re supposed to write down our instruments and rank our skill level.”
“Lucky me.” I reminded myself, though, that it didn’t matter. I wasn’t here to learn or improve my craft. I was here to break the connection between me and Kasem.
“Don’t sweat it,” the guy said. “I already signed you in. You’re a pianist, right? That’s what I put.” I waited for him to bring up my Baby Mozart past, since he seemed to have made the connection. But despite his knowing look, he simply added, “Sorry if I screwed up your signature.”
Unsure, I smiled at him. Even if he knew who I was, it was a relief just being normal.
In front of the class, the professor started talking about the fundamentals of scale and sound, things I’d already learned when I’d taken college credit classes at the local community college while I was in high school.
“You’re the guy who was with Vivian when we got off the fan boat,” I said. “Luke, right?”
“You remember me.”
I hadn’t really. But when he’d leaned forward, my hand had briefly brushed the back of his arm and I’d taken the moment to channel quickly into his past. I’d seen a vision of Luke on the fan boat with me and Vivian, and then was yanked into a brief flashback of a young Luke with his mother, a hippie with bright green eyes and a soft smile, and his father, a former musician who looked nearly identical to Luke, but with light brown skin and an Afro.
I watched as they helped Luke choose between which woodwind instruments he might play.
“I wanted to introduce myself to you and Vivian earlier, but… I don’t know. I thought I might seem like I was intruding if I did.”
“You would have been,” I said. “But I wouldn’t have minded.” His expression went from dejection to sheepish relief. Jojo always said my humor could be as biting as it was sweet.
Luke smiled. “Vivian and I ran into each other in the lounge at Poppy House, so it worked out anyway.”
Curiosity nagged at me. Clearly, he and Vivian had talked about me, which could be another explanation for his attempt to get my approval by signing me in.
“You weren’t at the tour yesterday. Were you?”
“I wasn’t feeling well.”
“Yeah, you didn’t miss much. Oh, except—” Luke laughed.
“Provost Henning walked in on our RA—you know, that girl with the vocal fry rambling to us on the boat? Apparently, she was hooking up with one of the grad students. In the courtyard. Half-ass naked. Wild as hell. I mean, no one from our tour actually saw it all play out, but someone overheard Joseph talking about it. They’re saying it’s why our tour got cut short. Could just be bogus, though.”
I swallowed, looking away from him. The feeling of the branches clawing at my skin, suffocating me, smothering my breathing; it was unrelenting. And there was Kasem, holding me in his arms. Looking me straight in the eyes and lying about what had occurred. Right before Jojo walked in on us.
“So, what happened? Did they, like, sanction him?”
Luke shook his head. “Apparently, he’s some academic prodigy.
He was an undergrad here at fifteen and now he’s in the accelerated graduate program in the School of Business and finishes this year.
Probably used his family connections to get out of it.
Plus, he’s not that much older than her—just a few months, actually.
So there’s technically nothing the school can do about them dating.
Just makes them look messy. Which, I guess for Westfield, is just as bad. ”
I wondered what Luke and the rest of the student body would say if I told them what had really happened in that maze, hookups, ghosts, and all.
A hand tapped me on the shoulder. I looked up. The girl next to me gestured for us to pay attention. But the professor had stopped his lecture. He’d gone to the door and was talking to someone before he turned back to the class.
“Sianna Adu?” the professor said.
I startled in my seat, clutching my notebook, my grip tight, nervous as I answered him.
“Yes?”
“You’re wanted in the president’s office.”