Strains

I wake up the next day with my body splayed on top of my bed. I didn’t even get under the covers last night. My room is awash with light much brighter than I’m used to. What time is it?

Oh crap, I’m probably late for class! And Hercules will be expecting his stash. I dart out my door, and into a wall.

I land in the dusty hallway.

“You’re supposed to be in class.”

“I know, I overslept.” I grasp the doorframe and pull myself to my feet. Of course Matthew would be able to tell that I ditched class. The one person on this damn campus who can actually punish me for it.

“Why is there blood on your clothes?”

I look down at my dress. Dried patches of red start at the top of my dress and end at my knees. Matthew places a hand on my shoulder and leads me back into the room. He goes to my closet and grabs a clean washcloth. I didn’t realize he knew the layout of my room so well. He disappears into the bathroom and comes back out. He jerks his head to the side, signaling me to sit. I take my normal place on my bed. Seems like I’m going to get another lecture and probably a punishment for missing class.

Matthew drags the chair over and sits in front of me. He brings the cloth to my face. It’s slightly damp with warm water.

“You want to tell me how this happened?”

Not really.

He flips the cloth over, I can see it’s stained with blood. He begins wiping my neck.

“Does anyone know you don’t have a strain?”

I shake my head no and he starts wiping again. This is a gentleness I’ve never seen from him before. It’s like he’s actually concerned about me. His thumb swirls a spot on my neck under my ear and my breath hitches.

“Rule #127, Elizabeth.”

I feel my face go red. That’s the rule barring us from having a romantic relationship.

“I-I um…”

“It’s fine,” he says, now wiping my forehead. “I tend to have that effect on women, just keep it in check.”

What a narcissist. Biological responses have nothing to do with romance. I could never fall for a guy that is so obviously into himself. He pulls the cloth away and sets it on the desk. Looks like I was caked in more blood than I thought.

“I expect an explanation, Elizabeth. Not only are you tardy for class, but you neglected a task you volunteered for. If you prefer, I’ll assume you’re just being obstinate and punish you accordingly.”

I begin fiddling with my hands. It’s weird. I don’t want to tell him anything. He already thinks so little of me, I don’t want to lower his already abysmal expectations.

But why? I hardly know him. I never valued the opinions of others when I was alive. No, I prided myself on being strong and independent. The few friends I did have, I never wanted them to worry about me. I could usually handle things on my own. It was my demeanor that kept bullies away throughout childhood and my high school years. My self-esteem and self worth was so high, I was too large a prey for the predators to attack. What the hell happened to me?

Crack.

Matthew brings his hands together in front of my face so hard the sound echoes off the bare walls of my room. I look up at him.

“You were spiraling,” he says.

I slump forward and cradle my head in my hands.

“Sorry,” I say quietly.

“Mhmm,” he gets up. “Get changed and go to class.” With that, he leaves.

Friday

It’s Friday, and after classes today, I’ll finally be free to hide in my room. Still, I have another twenty minutes stuck in dead language class with Korma. I still haven’t managed to get to class early enough to get a seat in the back row, so every day, I’ve endured her constant nagging. I can’t say I’m used to it, but I don’t get close to bursting into tears anymore.

It’s odd how quickly you can give up and stop caring. I’ve had to resign myself into failing all of my classes. I came to that conclusion yesterday, when Mr. Crowe, my Ceramics professor, decided not a single piece was worthy of being fired. It’s like the courses were designed to be impossible to pass. That didn’t stop Korma from assigning homework though.

I send up my rows assignment, and hand them to her. She snatches them, as she always does, and walks back to the board. She hates me just because of Matthew. I wonder if she’d treat me better if she knew how much disdain he had for me right now. He hasn’t spoken to me all week, and now that I have a routine, I don’t even get his hand written notes. On Wednesday night, I tried to apologize to him after dinner. Even then, he didn’t respond, and the following day, he left the table first.

Is this the punishment he had mentioned? The cold shoulder treatment doesn’t really feel like his style. Throwing people off of cliffs is his M.O.

Korma’s ruler cracks against my desk. I blink a few times to get out of my haze.

“Well, Miss Elizabeth? Your answer, and be quick about it!”

Not this again. She must get joy from humiliating me in front of everyone. It’d be nice if Matthew’s rep got everyone to cut me some slack but nope.

“What are you daydreaming about in my class? Did you honestly think your facilitators name would earn you a pass?”

“Wow Ms. Korma are you a psychic too?”

The ruler slams against my desk again. Truth be told, I didn’t mean to say anything, it just slipped out. She leans forward, glaring at me.

She’s still inches from my face as the door opens. It’s Matthew. She looks over her shoulder and smiles.

“Ah Matthew, so good to see you again.”

Crap he’s pissed. I can see it hidden behind his smile.

“Good morning, Ms. Korma. I just came for my student.” The smile fades as he looks in my direction. “Elizabeth, let’s go.”

I begin packing my things. Man, I can feel the heat coming off Korma. She’s going to bite my head off again Monday. Especially if she has something due. “Ms. Korma? May I have the weekend’s homework assignment please?” She looks back at me and glares. Stupid jerk of a woman, I’m trying to be responsible. Give me a break already.

“Elizabeth, we’re leaving!” His roar makes the entire class jump in their seats. Why the hell did he just yell at me like that? Everyone snickers around me as I hurry to his side. “Ms. Korma, if you could please have any weekend assignments in my office before dinner, I’d really appreciate it.” He places his hand on my shoulder and leads me out. I want to breathe a sigh of relief, but now it was just me and the Prince of Darkness again `1Q`.

“Come with me, quickly,” he says.

I guess I’m finally being punished. I briefly flash back to our trip to the beach. Matthew did say that it’s normal for facilitators to kill their students. I look at his hands and shiver.

I follow him back to my room and he stands aside. I guess I’m not worth the chivalry today. I open the door.

“After you, sir,” I say. He walks in a few steps, then stops. His back is still facing me. I pass him to put my bag on my desk, but instead I drop it on the floor.

“Do you like it?” He says.

I cover my mouth. There’s a new kitchenette in the corner of my room, a fluffy rug in the center, and a new quilt on my bed. It’s almost like my dorm I had when I was living.

Even though I had gotten a full ride to my university, that didn’t afford me a luxury suite on campus. I shared my dorm room with two other scholarship winners that were just as broke as I was. Our room lacked AC, and the heater worked too well for us to ever use it in the winter. The single perk was the kitchenette that had somehow been smuggled into the room and forgotten. I learned how to cook with the two burners, and began my obsession with tea.

I nod my head slowly. “Thank you, sir.”

He places his hand on my head. “I’ve been working on it all week. Just don’t burn the place down, understand?”

“Okay.”

So he’s been doing this the entire time. He wasn’t avoiding me.

“Elizabeth, are you…crying?”

I walk away from his hand and into the bathroom. I hear his footsteps follow me, then stop at the door.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Obviously I wanted to surprise you.”

“I know that but still…” I can’t keep my thoughts straight. I’m happy, sad, and upset all rolled into one, but I don’t get it. I haven’t had a grasp on my emotions since I got here.

“That’s all that’s important. It’s starting to seem like you’re ungrateful.”

I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and shake my head.

“I’m sorry, Teacher. I really do appreciate it.”

“Good. Now that that’s finished, why don’t we go get some lunch?”

“What?”

He sighs and rolls his eyes. “I don’t like to repeat myself, Elizabeth.”

“Sorry, but lunch isn’t served until 11:30, that’s nearly an hour away.”

“Yes, well, I’m in the mood for something different than the regular cafeteria fare. Come on.”