Chapter 8 #2
“So, here’s how it works,” Jordan responds. “The student must make the first move in the 6C. That’s how you say you are interested in a Patron. These rules are not actually real or written anywhere, they’re just speculated, if that makes sense. It’s more of an unspoken rule.”
“Got it.” Her eyes stay laser focused on Patron Lenon and Patron Pesh as though she’s staring at her targets.
“Students are only allowed to walk the Chemistry Hallway once a year. The student must make the first move in front of the Patrons. And if the Patron accepts, then, I guess that’s the part we don’t really know, because it’s never happened.”
She sighs, her first sign of worry as she turns to him. “Did your dad really say it’s a lost cause?”
“Patrons almost treat students like the plague when it comes to relationships. My dad claims he’s never seen a Patron date a student ever or even look them in the eye. Eyepasses are hardly offered.”
Eyepasses?
“Isn’t that like the chance to look into a Patron’s eye for a few minutes?” she asks Jordan.
“Yeah,” Jordan says. “Freshmen don’t really get them. I’m sure upperclassmen receive them more often.”
“I know. I’ve never gotten one.”
“I think Zavish has though. Once,” Jordan says. “He told me.”
It just crosses my mind. I think I’ve gotten one… multiple… from Pesh.
“Are you still sure you want to do this?” Jordan asks her, touching her hands.
She draws away from him. “Yes, I’m sure, Jordan.” She eyes him.
“Well if that doesn’t work, I’m always here as a backup,” he jokes.
She rolls her eyes. “Best for us to focus on our individual success. My recommender said even if you don’t succeed—”
“When, not if—”
“Keep your tone down, genius.”
Jordan smiles.
“Even if I don’t succeed in getting favor, it’s still worth it.”
“And why’s that?” Jordan asks.
“Because a demerit means they know your name, and usually demerits are bad, but this is the only demerit in The Commons that doesn’t go on your record. That’s because at least half of all freshmen get it, so it’s pretty common, get it?”
Jordan rolls his eyes. “Common average. Yeah, yeah. Funny.”
They laugh.
“Good luck,” Jordan says.
“Thanks!” She takes a deep breath and starts walking into the hallway. Suddenly, she halts and runs back. “Nope. Can’t do it.” She grabs her things, and Jordan follows her as they rush off.
I realize there’s another way out of class. I should have known that.
A dark-skinned boy with a thick London accent walks past another freshmen group that is congregating on the other side.
I notice that he has an outfit with a Sachi badge on his blazer.
He stops and turns directly to the group, laughing in disbelief.
“Are you lot bonkers? Patrons are not into fresh meat. They are into royalty and fellow Patrons. Not only has no student ever been favored in the 6C, but almost everyone is ignored or humiliated. The Patrons clearly want to be left alone. Do yourselves a favor and boot off.”
One of them responds to him, somewhat triggered. “Being humiliated is better than being ignored. At least if you’re humiliated, it means someone noticed you. If you’re ignored, you’re basically disposable.”
The London Sachi boy ignores them, laughing and walking off. “The delusion continues.”
Just as I turn to exit the building, I notice someone finally walking the hallway.
“Look,” the olive-skinned boy beside me says as all attention turns in the same direction. “See that girl, by the way she’s walking slowly, it’s obvious she’s trying to be noticed.”
I am so over this Patron worship. This honestly seems more like a walk of shame to me.
I watch the curly, blond-haired student in question strut into the hallway, but I notice her hands shake. I look closer at her face—she’s Ciaro. The one Patron Lenon disgraced. Why would she do this after what he just did to her?
“Can a Patron do anything to humiliate a student?” the dark-haired girl says.
“No one actually knows the limits,” the olive-skinned boy beside me says. “Only The Powers That Be actually know what Patrons can and cannot do.”
I look to the corner to see the four Patrons talking. Pesh is one of them. And Lenon, and Suzandrick, and another male Patron I don’t recognize. Lenon plays with a small arrow. Pesh is drinking what looks like water, and the other two are snacking, it seems.
Ciaro stops walking. She stands in the middle of the hallway, her eyes lowered.
“What is she doing?” the brunette girl says.
“She’s waiting,” the redhead whispers.
“Who does that?” the brunette girl says, concerned.
“Technically, she can’t stand forever,” the olive-skinned boy counters. “If a Patron doesn’t stand in two minutes, she has to leave. Look at tosh!”
I look up to see tosh ticking in the air. Patron Lenon puts a pen behind his ear, scrolling through a tablet. Ciaro looks toward his direction for a second, then sighs in disappointment, looking back down at the floor.
“Dang,” the redhead whispers. “I guess she’s getting ignored.”
Ciaro swallows hard, then lifts her chin up. With only five seconds left, her legs drive forward to leave. Just as she is about to walk away, Patron Lenon stands up, dropping the tablet. He begins to walk toward her.
Everyone congregates closer in utter shock as Ciaro instantly stops.
The other Patrons watch Lenon with an uncanny gaze, except Pesh.
Pesh does not react, not even with a hint of care.
He simply stares at Lenon with an intense edge, unfazed.
Patron Suzandrick reels with enjoyment and eyes Pesh periodically, seeking his attention, but he does not turn her way.
Patron Lenon walks up to Ciaro with a haughty gaze.
He flicks her bright blonde hair to the side like it’s dust off a carpet.
He stares at her with furrowed brows. I notice her legs quiver, but she approaches him, nonetheless.
He tilts her chin up with one of his fingers and she now looks into his eyes.
Her eyes sparkle, staring at him in veneration merged with wonder, rising to her tiptoes.
The other Patrons scoff among themselves, whispering something to each other.
Except Pesh.
Pesh looks away and focuses on writing on a tablet screen, unbothered, as if he’s alone and can’t hear anything going on around him.
The students around me gawk in disbelief. Their eyes stay glued on them like a hawk.
Ciaro stares at Lenon, her mouth open in anticipation. Lenon tilts her chin further, not reciprocating her excitement.
The girls next to me hang their mouths open, drooling like they are watching a show. If only I could roll my eyes a thousand times, I would.
In a sudden turn of events, Lenon begins to kiss Ciaro with an enormous aggressiveness from the tongue. I hate this guy so much. He must think he’s God’s gift to earth.
Next to me everyone watches, wondering what he is about to say, just as he stops.
He stares at her with a stern gaze, stating blandly, “Disgusting. I expected better. Get out of my sight.”
Patron Suzandrick and the other Patron laugh. Ciaro opens her mouth to say something, but Lenon leaves before she can. She gasps, blushing, then instantly leaves. On her way out, she smiles to herself. In a hidden corner, she exhales, satisfied, her mouth open in shock.
Lenon glides his hands through his hair, taking Pesh’s bottle of water, drinking as he sits.
Patron Suzandrick slams her snack to the table. “Well, that was new.”
“Dang!” the brunette girl near me says. “Imagine Patron Lenon’s lips touching yours.”
“If that’s what favor looks like, then bring it on,” the red-haired girl beside me exclaims. She immediately struts off, walking the Chemistry Hallway.
Upon her appearance, Patron Suzandrick speaks in a mutter, not even looking up. “Urgh! They just keep coming. Send her to the dark dungeon.”
A file flies to her from Suzandrick’s desk. She sprints out, humiliated, her cheeks turning bright red.
“If they know we’ve all been hiding here, they’ll send us all to detention, one by one,” the brunette girl says. “If we want to do this, we might as well just go.”
“Yeah, I know. But who’s gonna go next?” the olive-skinned boy asks.
I turn away from them and listen to the Patrons’ conversations to see if I can hear anything useful.
“And I was like, you know what, it’s not this chick’s fault,” Patron Suzandrick says. “Let’s set the lad straight first, then unto her if he doesn’t comply.”
“What did you do? Give him a demerit?” The other Patron smiles.
“Not quite. I sent him to the dark dungeon. He’ll sit there for the next twenty-four hours and contemplate his love life. If I could send him to The Seventh Zone, I’d do it right now, except I do want to see his ugly Lumiere face in The Commons a little longer.”
I almost choke—she’s talking about Zavish. And me!
“De Londe probably does too, seeing as he’s a Lumiere!” the other Patron adds.
“And plus, we can’t do that until we see who passes the tests in six weeks. Trust me, I got a long list,” Lenon says.
I think to myself, The Seventh Zone? But there isn’t a seventh wing, we only have 6 zones in The Commons.