Chapter 19 #2
I didn’t lose the battle then, and I’m definitely not going to now.
I take a huge, noisy inhale, blowing out all the gathering self-deprecating bs, and force myself to see that life goes on.
Being at Thales in clothes that are not mine, having a new feathery friend, and facing off with the professor are all proof of that.
The fresh air helps too; no longer infused with the stirring, heady notes of petrichor.
Although there is a hint of mustiness in the air, I’m mostly sure that’s more to do with my basement room.
I shut down my woe is me moment and jump off the last few steps, smiling softly when I find my boxes and belongings placed in my room, talking out loud to myself and to Bugby.
“I need to clean up that mess and to take a shower. And then let’s get our space organized, smash out these assignments so I don’t fail, and in the process probably piss off more supernatural beings. Life goals, am I right?”
It takes a couple of tries for the latch to budge on the first dormer window.
I shed more rice in the process, but Bugby makes a game of catching the grains.
When I shove at the frame, it makes an almighty crack before opening a couple of inches.
The cool breeze is definitely worth the effort, and Bugby agrees.
He flaps over to the second window, and once I open it, he strolls right out the gap, doing that swagger walk he does that makes me smile.
The shadows of the night gobble him up, and there’s a sudden dip in my mood as I wonder if he’s going to come back.
I get that it’s probably my loneliness talking, but I’d still take it to heart if he disappeared, especially considering how we came to be acquaintances.
I swear, abandonment is such a trigger for me, and it probably is a big reason I hit a barrier when getting to know people.
“Jesus, stop, Maya. You’re losing your freaking marbles. Clean the steps, shower, study, sleep—in that order. No more psychoanalyzing or wishing anything was different.”
It’s a necessary pep talk. In the blink of an eye, I switch from lamenting to routine.
After clearing the stairs of the stray grains of rice and placing them in the bin, I search through the boxes to find my toiletries and something to wear afterward.
Of course, my towel is at the bottom, but I unpack everything and leave it in neat piles, which is a task I was going to do later anyway.
At the door, I pop my head out, making sure no one is using the gym area.
With the coast clear, I make a break for the bathroom, right across the hallway.
Compared to the bathroom at Nom House, this one is palatial. The showerhead is to die for. Hot water pummels against my shoulders and the back of my neck, feeling like a massage. The only reason I finally switch the faucet off is that I know what creatures live on the floor above.
Dressing quickly, I ride the buzz of a good shower and sort out my room, shifting my magikally disguised tea chests and making my bed. The desk and chair in one corner of the room are clearly new additions, but they work, and that’s all that matters.
I keep the ancient tomes, the gold bracelet, and the part of the arrow locked away for obvious reasons.
My stomach grumbles constantly, but I sip on water to fill the hole and focus on the latest run of assignments. I swear each subject is like learning a different foreign language every lesson.
There’s the bang of a door slamming, followed by a loud commotion. It’s full of laughter and camaraderie that breaks my concentration, feeding the isolation loneliness brings.
I can’t make out who just walked in by their voice alone, but I instinctively know it’s Emrys.
How I know is as strange as my falling into the pages of an ancient tome and dragging back a raven.
If I were asked to describe how I know, I’d talk about a vibration or a hum that tickle my veins while the purple threads in my shield pulse simultaneously.
I blink, as in my mind a carousel of memories appear.
There’s not that many, but they’re poignant and all feature Emrys.
There’s the time he first touched me at training, then when he saved me from falling in the greenhouse, and when he dropped me moments later.
My memory bank includes his mocking words about me not having any protections, and his strange flirting that preceded his sudden mood change.
Yet my memories also show how I looked during each interaction.
It’s like watching a movie and reliving the emotion.
The stubborn determination set in my eyes appears more than the haunted sadness, which is encouraging, and the vibrant purple energy that appeared after our first touch never goes away.
As if to reinforce its significance, the threads appear, wafting into my room from under the door. The electric purple strands swirl and dance in the air as they surround me. But then the moment they brush over me, they retreat to where they came from.
I’m left wondering how I’m ever going to learn enough of their world to know even the basics, for all I know, this stuff that’s blowing my mind is the norm. I tune out the noises floating down from upstairs and focus on finishing my essay on the modernization of spirit guides.
I surprise myself, smashing through the essay in no time at all. After editing and rereading it for a final time, I’m kind of impressed at how strong and substantiated my essay ended up being. But I don’t submit it yet, as I’ll do a final read-through in the morning, which is when it’s due.
Rising to grab a pair of socks and my quilt to wrap myself up in, I stretch a few times, clearing my head from the last topic and pepping myself up to tackle the assignment Elder Augustus set.
Chemistry was never one of my strong subjects in my human school.
At Thales, it’s made a hundred times more challenging because of my issues with anything to do with the study of vampires’ preferred nourishment, erythrocytes.
There’s one good thing, though; the grumbling in my stomach stops when I open the task sheet.
Miraculously, the complex equations and hypotheses that have never made sense are easier to understand.
My explanations flow without effort. Within a few hours, I’ve answered everything from Elder Augustus’s class, as well as finishing a chunk of the quiz that Duke Amon assigned on demon hieroglyphics.
It’s late, but not as late as I thought it would be when I shut down my computer. Though as I brush my teeth and use the bathroom, I realize how much colder it’s gotten.
The rest of the house is quiet, and the only light coming from upstairs must be from the moon. I race back to my room, wrap myself in a blanket burrito, and fall asleep without trying too hard.