Page 2 of Class Studies

My heart fluttered, chasing away the darkness clouding my thoughts. An uncontrollable wiggle forced me to shoot up from my tall stool. Between meetings and the general chaos of the last two days, we hadn’t spoken since the professor’s text: I’ve thought about what I want, and it can’t be expressed in a text message or over our necklace.

Wisps of my brunette hair floated around my peripheral vision. I attempted to smooth them, super aware of how judgmental I was of Ashe’s messy man bun. “Let him in.”

Ashe put down his book but didn’t stand as the professor entered my tower.

Tall, though not near as built as Ashe, Professor Garnet wore his usual loose linen clothing. His shoulders sloped down in the white Viking-styled billowy shirt, hiding his solid frame. The red-rimming of his eyes glowed as he drank in my form. He strode to my side with calm confidence as if we hadn’t parted on uncertain terms.

I badly wanted him to wrap his arms around my waist, but he didn’t. Instead, he shoved his hands into his pockets and turned his attention to my workstation. A lump formed in my throat. I remembered everything I did and said to him while high on Ram’s concoction of drugs. My blunt words made me face my truth.

I was unique. I was powerful. I didn’t want to hide or live by someone else’s rules. I wanted to be me, the good or evil version.

If only it were as simple to do that as it was to think it.

“This is.” Professor Garnet jerked his chin toward my workstation. “Something else.”

I pulled on my braid, the unease in the professor’s voice washed away by the thick rope of hair under my fingers. I tried so hard to like the short style. To be the warrior my short hair and ear-piercing made me appear as. But it wasn’t me, and it didn’t need to be.

Another few strands escaped my fishtail at my next tug, and I sighed. I probably looked like a hot, hopeful mess instead of the powerful woman I wanted the professor to see.

Standing a little straighter, I turned to my workstation as well. “Ah, it is.”

I’d taped pictures of the MA agents in rows along the back wall, with Officer Keres at the top. Each one had a caption and string tying it to another. Off to the right, two pictures of Ram hung side by side. The first was him in his uniform. His too-innocent freckles matched his clay brown rims. The second I’d taken of him lying in his new home in the medical wing.

Without a thought, I made him sit up and smile for the camera, as morbid as that sounds. His rimless white eyes matched the bleached-out freckles blending with his new pale complexion. As far as I could tell, Ram was gone and, in his place, lived an extension of me.

I searched for guilt, some semblance that I’d done the wrong thing, but I couldn’t find any. The bastard tormented me, choked me, tried to kidnap me, and made my life a living hell. If I hadn’t defended myself, he would’ve used blood magic to bind me to him. I clenched my jaw. He deserved this and worse.

“Ram seems stable,” Professor Garnet said quietly, noticing my focus.

I unclenched my jaw and rubbed the back of my neck. Ram wasn’t an issue anymore, and I had a new problem. I pointed at the picture of Alrick below all the others. A sticky note reading: ‘do whatever you want, but leave my people and me alone,’ stuck to the bottom.

“Everything started with Alrick.” I took a calming breath. “If I’m to find a way to reverse the damage I’ve caused, I think I need to start there.”

I didn’t look at the professor but at Ashe.

The Gentle Giant gave me a nod of approval. I chose my path. Instead of stepping into the cafeteria and taking control of the Institute, I put my hands up and my head down. I didn’t want to control anyone, much less a broken school in a political system I didn’t understand. But my actions still had consequences. Ones I didn’t even know the full extent of yet.

Professor Garnet let out a breath. “That sounds reasonable.”

I scrunched up my face at the extraordinarily benign phrase.

“Ashe, could you give us a minute?” Professor Garnet asked.

Ashe rose from his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. Before he answered, my tablet sang as it came to life. My scales, resting on a pillow of black velvet, appeared in the background.

I took a sharp breath and lunged for the device before the professor saw it.

He leaned forward. “Are those your dragon scales?”

I flicked off the screen, my gut twisting. Abe owned me, and, unknowingly, the professor saw, tipping off Ashe.

The Gentle Giant’s face pinched as he glared at the tablet.

I pulled my shaking hand into my chest. Neither of them would let this go.

“Ah. Yes?” I regretted the word the moment it left my lips.

Operation DUMP was still my secret, but with the professor standing right in front of me, I wasn’t sure I could keep it. I accused him of hiding and using his addiction as an excuse not to be happy. But I hadn’t stopped there. I told him he pushed people away and hid in the MA’s rules because he was scared to be himself.