Strains

I use the little time I have before dinner to scrub the ink off my face. Unlike Matthew, I keep my cleanser, and practically everything else I own, on my counter so it’s easy to find. My storage-less bathroom doesn’t allow for me to hide a drug habit.

I shake my face against a towel.

I shouldn’t be making assumptions. Maybe he has a condition or something. Three knocks echo into the room.

Think of the devil.

“I’m taking you to dinner, come out when you’re ready.”

I toss my towel onto the vanity and leave the restroom. Matthew is standing at my door. He’s always barging in here.

“I did knock.”

I scoff and slip on my shoes.

“Well, I’m ready. Let’s just go.”

Matthew hasn’t walked me to dinner in a while. It isn’t like our other walks. Before dinner is when campus is at its busiest and with so many people around; the staff especially, we have to keep up appearances. For me, that means walking a few steps behind Matthew with my head down. Why he chose to subject me to this today, I have no idea.

Up ahead is the dining hall, crowded with students clamoring to get inside.

My legs turn to stone.

Even from this distance, in the dim glow of twilight, I can make out the yellow lapels of the Sparks.

“Let’s wait for it to thin out,” Matthew says.

“Yeah. Okay.” I whisper.

Once everyone is inside, Matthew turns to me and jerks his head towards the entrance. We hit the steps just outside the door when Matthew suddenly stops.

“I’ll go in first. Count to 200 and come inside.”

It’s a weird request, but I nod anyway. He turns and straightens himself as he walks into the building. Two hundred seconds gives Matthew enough time to get settled at the table and his fan club to quit mooning over him.

With the seconds now gone, I climbed the stairs and crossed the threshold into the hall. I don’t know what to do. Where am I supposed to look? My focus goes to Matthew, who glances my way. Our eyes meet and the room seems to freeze. Suspended in time, he offers me the slightest nod. It’s more reassuring than I ever thought possible, as if he were telling me to stand straight and keep my head up.

Even in my head he makes the most impossible requests.

The moment ends, and the cacophony of the dining hall floods my ears again. I roll my shoulders back and head to the staff table, my gaze focused on Matthew, even as his seems to wander around the room.

I go around the table and take my seat next to Hercules as Matthew puts his water glass to his lips and gives me a small smile. Does that mean I did good? I almost hate myself for wanting his approval. All he cares about is image and that I don’t tarnish his. The thought makes me want to rebel by taking a giant swig from Hercules’ overfilled glass, but my terrible reputation hasn’t done me any favors lately. I don’t need to do anything to spite Matthew, not at my own expense. And even though he drew on my face earlier, he doesn’t deserve it.

“So why weren’t you in class today, Squirt?” Hercules asks, punctuating his question with a belch.

Oh crap.

“Well…I…”

Hercules, as well as the others at the table, leans in for my excuse. I glance over to Matthew, who doesn’t look at all ready to jump to my defense. I look back to Hercules, trying to muster any courage I left on the floor below the stage.

“Sorry sir, but according to the handbook it’s the duty of my facilitator to worry about my attendance.”

Hercules stays silent as his face hardens. Crap.

Matthew laughs and looks over to Hercules.

“I’m sure you can think of a suitable punishment, and I’ll support it entirely.”

My head jerks back to Matthew. That is just wrong. He knows I didn’t ditch class; I was with him all day.

“That’s one sharp tongue your student has, Matthew. Even Hercules was speechless,” the Dean chuckles. “I’m happy to see you are learning the rules around here, miss.”

Ynez chimes in. “Better get an idea before you get busy with midterms, Hercules. You only have two more weeks.”

The tests, which will make up nearly half of my grades, are not something I’m at all looking forward to. It feels a lot like I’m alone in my anxiety. The only people on campus that seem to care about midterms are the faculty. Everyone else seems resigned to the fact that they will likely fail. It will be just another set of days in October.

“Don’t think I haven’t thought about getting revenge on this one. She’s been on my kill list from the first day she set foot in my class,” Hercules says with deadly intent.

“I don’t think it’s appropriate to be so forward about your desire for revenge, Hercules. We must maintain our standards,” the Dean says, looking over to Matthew who remains quiet.

Hercules shrugs and takes me by the shoulder.

“Lighten up, I won’t hurt her too bad,” he chuckles and taps me lightly on the cheek.

“I think having your grubby fingers on her face is punishment enough, Hercules,” Matthew says before taking in his last bite of chicken. Hercules takes his hands back and redirects his focus to finishing the plate in front of him before the sheeted waitstaff can take it away.

Dessert today was a single cup of homemade pudding. It made the last course end far too quickly. A few minutes after the dish had been served, the table was beginning to empty. Matthew was the last to leave. Before he left, he handed me his dishes.

“Be safe,” he said, then left out a side door.

I can’t be sure of the quality of my work, once I got to one of the sink stations, my hands shook and my movements were hurried and jerky. I just wanted to finish in time to leave when the Aquas did. My rush job gets me my wish, and I catch the door just as Piper is turning out the lights.

“After you,” I say.

She looks at me bitterly and passes me by. Her quiet dislike of me was much more palatable than the threats, pranks and fighting that I received from the rest of the Matthew fan club. Why couldn’t they all be like her? When I think about it, on the way back to my room, I realize she’s the only Aqua with a crush on Matthew. At least that I know of.

Aqua’s aren’t exactly known to be especially powerful, maybe she didn’t think she could take me in a fight. That’s… slightly comforting.

I open my door to find the object of my disdain and Piper’s affection sitting at my desk.

“Evening,” Matthew says, and closes a book in his hand. “That was faster than I expected. Did everything go alright?”

I nod and begin to slip out of my shoes.

“Good.” He gets up and passes me on his way to the door.

“Wait, is that it?”

His hand is on the doorknob.

“Did you want me to give you a punishment or something? The essay I assigned isn’t enough?”

Woops, I totally forgot about that.

“You have a good night, Elizabeth.”

“You too, sir.”

The door shuts quietly behind him and a few moments later, I hear the outer door shut as well.

That was…odd. He didn’t even leave an apple this time. I drag myself into the chair at my desk. The wood is still warm from Matthew. How long had he been waiting for me? All this just to say good night. To make sure I got back here safely.

Weird psychic.

I pull out a pad of paper and start scribbling words in extra flowery language. The font is a little bigger than I usually write, and the words spaced out as far as I can reasonably go. Even my periods are a hair larger. With such a stupid topic, such strategies are necessary. It’d be easier if I had a computer, but the technology hasn’t caught up here and it never would.

I flex my wrist as I finish the second page. I must’ve written the word ‘respect’ over a dozen times already. I planned to focus on what I think is a God- given right to privacy in the final paragraphs, but it feels weird to write. This whole essay is basically a long-winded apology to a guy who does the thing I’m apologizing for on a daily basis.

The last page I write is in my normal handwriting, and I actually struggle to fit the rest of the words on the paper. The tone is different than the earlier pages and the voice purely my own. With the assignment done, I go to sleep, hoping he can read my thoughts as well as he could hear them.