3
Wherever you are, you’re on enemy ground
It was my first official day of class, and there were a few harsh realities to face.
Artie had warned me that insulting him would get things off to a bad start.
In normal life, insulting people isn’t a good idea, whatever their social status.
In Tagus, it’s only a problem if you insult the chosen ones.
And Aegan was at the top of that list. He had his little fan club, who respected the Cash name, who admired that lineage, who’d be willing to turn their backs on me for having the nerve to challenge the status quo.
It was scary to think about but, if rejection and exclusion were coming, I’d face it with my five-foot-two frame and my chin up. Yeah, it hadn’t been a great idea to insult Aegan last night, but I wasn’t going to admit that.
Of course, I couldn’t expect what would actually go down.
I walked through the doors of the architectural monster that was the College of Science and Liberal Arts building.
Down the hallways, people were looking at me as if I were the only human being who’d evolved from Homo sapiens into a new and toxic species.
Others, as they passed by, nodded as if to say, You’re on the right track, girl.
The first class was filled with judgmental and awkward silence, but in the next class, a group of girls threw me an approving smile.
What did it all mean? Had I done the right thing or the wrong thing?
I wasn’t sure, but I felt a sense of satisfaction because, let’s be honest, the whole angle of going unnoticed through the halls with my head down, biting my lip, and clutching my books to my chest was definitely not for me.
On the other hand, being known for doing what nobody had dared to do before?
I’d gladly accept praise for all of that.
Although . . . maybe I shouldn’t have been so quick to count my chickens before they hatched.
Yeah, I’d pay the price for it, which I soon realized when I showed up for my elective literature class.
The classroom was impressive, like all the ones I’d been to that day. The tables were gleaming white, each with two seats. I sat down at the table closest to the large, blue-tinted window which overlooked the vast green gardens of Tagus, and I waited.
There were around twenty students in the class.
A tall, slender woman with a long neck that reminded me of a swan stood in front of the transparent whiteboard.
She gave off a bohemian vibe, like a talented writer who hadn’t seen much success.
She introduced herself as Ms. Lauris and welcomed us first- and second-year students to the class.
“Let’s get into reading pairs,” she said. “This term, we’ll discuss and try to understand new perspectives. For example, why do things look blue to some people but yellow to others? We’ll try to grasp that, so pick a partner and switch tables if you have to.”
I looked around to see who I could choose or if I’d be chosen, ready for my first successful in-class social interaction, but all I saw was the empty seat next to me. The room had filled up, but no one had sat next to me, so now I was the only person sitting on my own.
The other students were switching places to sit next to their partners. I waited for someone, but everyone ignored me and didn’t make eye contact. They acted like I wasn’t even there.
Their message was very clear: Nobody wants to pair up with you.
In the end, I was on my own. It bothered me, but I didn’t let it show.
“Miss Derry,” Ms. Lauris called to me over the voices of the students after realizing I had no partner. “You’ll share your opinions with me.”
Great. If things weren’t bad enough, now I was being paired up with the teacher, like I was a cast-off primary school kid, something I’d never experienced before.
Someone scoffed under their breath, but I didn’t know who. I tried not to let it get to me. We were adults, right? I would take this like an adult.
“Well,” continued the teacher, back in front of the whiteboard now that the class had settled down. “I’ll write down some—”
She was suddenly interrupted by a knock at the classroom door.
We all looked to see who it was. Adrik Cash had shown up fifteen minutes late.
Looking drowsy and with messy hair, he walked in carrying his backpack in one hand.
He didn’t look like he wanted to be there.
In fact, he looked as if he’d just woken up.
In any other case, it was obvious what should have happened next: getting told off by the teacher and not allowed to come into class.
But that would never happen for the Cash brothers.
They were treated differently. I didn’t quite know it at the time, but I’d soon find out why the world was sucking up to the three Cash brothers.
They got off with things other people would’ve been punished for.
They had doors opened for them when others had them closed in their faces.
They were superior just because of who they were.
The teacher threw him a friendly smile. I even got the impression she was glad he’d finally shown up.
“Mr. Cash, come in,” she said. “I was just thinking it was strange not to see you here. I’m afraid you won’t be able to choose a partner; you’ll be working with Miss Derry, who’s the only one without a partner.”
There was dead silence.
“Really?” he asked.
“Yeah, this time I won’t let you work alone.” The teacher didn’t let him reply. “Group work is important.”
I thought he’d say something else, but Adrik walked over to my table without saying a word, almost dragging his backpack. People were whispering and then looking at me. I kept still, trying not to give them anything to talk about.
He sat on the empty chair next to me. He dropped the backpack, put his forearms on the table, and looked straight ahead. I caught a waft of male aftershave that could’ve triggered my allergies. Almost everything made me sneeze, which really pissed me off.
The class went on.
“I am writing down the names of the authors we’ll be studying this term,” explained the teacher, with her back to us. “In the meantime, take a sheet of paper and ask your partner about the literature he or she likes.”
I opened my notebook and took out a sheet. I grabbed a pen, made two columns with our names, and didn’t say anything. I didn’t feel like asking Adrik anything. Another one of my big flaws: I was proud.
Turns out I didn’t need to say anything because Adrik spoke first.
“The Picture of Dorian Gray,” he said, without looking at me.
I was taken aback. I loved that book too. It’s not like I’d read tons of books, but during an antisocial phase, I had turned to reading; I loved stories that shone a light on human flaws.
I jotted down the title in the two columns. Then, lost in thought, I lightly tapped the sheet with my pen.
“Why do you like it?” I asked.
Adrik took his time. I thought he was going to ignore me like everybody else, but then he shrugged.
“It teaches you that you can be virtually perfect on the outside, but be fucking rotten on the inside,” he replied matter-of-factly. I noticed he had a soft, sly voice. Compared to his odious brother’s loud voice, his was intriguing and, annoyingly, rather pleasant to listen to.
I, surprisingly, felt the same about the book. The words just came out of my mouth: “And that power corrupts the soul.”
“That power is, in fact, a weakness.” He nodded.
Then he turned and looked at me. His eyes were a dark, cloudy, leaden gray.
Faint bags under his eyes made him look tired.
I couldn’t help but compare him to his brother.
While Aegan’s gaze was defiant and arrogant, Adrik’s was penetrating, somewhat mysterious, hard to hold, and yet very interesting . . .
He was a Cash.
I couldn’t forget he was a Cash. And one had to be careful with the Cash brothers. Always.
“Good.” I cleared my throat and looked down at the list. “Another one?”
“I’ve been reading ‘Dialogue Between a Priest and a Dying Man.’ It’s a short story.”
“You read Marquis de Sade?” I asked, frowning.
He casually shrugged and leaned against the back of the chair. Looking bored, he started scratching the table with one of his nails. “So what if I do?”
“He’s repulsive,” I said.
“Exactly.”
“I should’ve known . . .” I mumbled, shaking my head as I wrote the title.
Adrik let out an apathetic laugh that sounded more like a snort.
I rolled my eyes. He, his brother, and everything they stood for were starting to turn my stomach, but I had to keep calm.
I couldn’t be so defensive. I’d just arrived, I wasn’t supposed to detest them already, right? So, I had to behave.
“Just name another book,” I asked dryly.
“Atonement by Ian McEwan.”
“One that you’ve read,” I said.
“What makes you think I haven’t read it?” he shot back.
“Just because,” I answered bluntly.
I thought I could see a slight smile, although I didn’t know what it meant. Was it fun? Mocking? Nothing?
“You don’t think it’s the type of book I would read just because I’ve read something by the Marquis de Sade?” he replied, calm yet sharp.
“No, it’s not . . .” I tried to answer back, but Adrik cut me off.
“Or is it that you think I only read Marquis de Sade–style stuff?”
“No, it’s just that . . .”
Adrik leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table, now sounding more confident. He locked his gray eyes on me. It was intimidating, but I wasn’t easily intimidated.