Strains

I’m shoving my door open when I remember that Matthew had tampered with my watch and I have twenty extra minutes to prepare for dinner. I strip and jump into the shower. Last to come off is the gold watch. I run it under the water and dry it off. It sparkles and continues ticking away. Matthew was right, this thing can take some damage.

That man.

How could he keep all of that information from me? So much for being family, he’s treating me like I’m his unwanted step-daughter. Everything I’ve ever known about him, I’ve heard from others. And this is the guy I’m supposed to trust with my existence, the one employed by the people who I’m meant to fear.

The lake muck rinses down the drain without issue but when I get out of the shower, I still feel dirty. I wrap myself in my towel and nearly trip coming out of the tub. Dang, my mind is in such a fog right now. I’ll make myself some tea to decompress before dinner, hopefully that’ll help.

I exit the bathroom to find Matthew sitting at my desk. I freeze. Why didn’t he tell me he was in here?

“I tried. You didn’t answer,” he says, looking away.

“Well, I’m kinda naked, so can you leave?” I say.

“No. We need to talk. Get dressed, quickly.”

So much for having a cup of tea.

“And tea would be nice,” Matthew adds.

I internalize a groan, grab a fresh set of clothes and retreat into the bathroom. What could he think is so important that he’d come before dinner? Maybe he found out about the money I spent at Flynn’s, or what happened in class today. It must be something important since usually he just waits until after. Whatever. I pull my dress over my head and walk back into the room.

Matthew stays silent as I set a pot of water on the hot plate and sit in my usual spot on my bed. He won’t even look me in the face.

“So…” I start for him.

He sighs and finally focuses his eyes on me.

“I’ve heard you’ve been…busy since I’ve been away from campus.”

Busy? “Well, yeah. Can’t slack off just because you’re away, right?”

The kettle begins to whistle, so I get up and grab the two mugs from my closet. Not a moment too soon, it’s hard not to crack under his intense stare.

“That isn’t what I meant. There have been some rumblings around campus about you.”

“Rumblings?” I hand him a cup and offer him a tea bag. I set mine beside him on the desk. What could he possibly be talking about?

Oh. Those ‘rumblings’.

“They’re just rumors,” I say, dunking my tea bag with vigor.

“Are they? I heard you were seen today with someone in the garden,“ he takes a sip of the tea and frowns into the cup, “and you were removing your clothes.”

My eyes widen. I don’t remember seeing anyone in the garden today, how could he know I was there with Caiden?

Matthew sets the cup on the desk and folds his face in his hands.

“My god, it’s true. And him of all people?”

I bolt up from my seat.

“I don’t know what you’ve heard, but it’s nothing but a bunch of lies. I’m not like that, but even if I was, which I’m not, it wouldn’t be any of your business anyway. I’m a grown woman, remember?” I say and stomp over to the door.

He spins around in the seat.

“It is very much my business when you go off academy grounds, you’d know that if you had read the handbook.”

I throw my hands up. “Maybe if it weren’t such a dry read I would have read it entirely, so take it up with the author.” I hold the door open. “Now if you could, please leave so I can finish getting ready for dinner.”

Matthew stands and walks towards the door. Good, at least he respects me enough to leave.

He places a hand on the door, just inches above my head and pushes it shut. He stays there, with only a foot of air between us, and my back against the door.

“Rumors like the ones going around are not just embarrassing, but they’re dangerous.”

“Why are you lecturing me about this? They’re just stupid ’kids’, and it’s your job to keep them in line.”

Shock crosses his face before it hardens. “What else did he tell you?”

“That you work for the big bad Council you’re always telling me about.” I say, because keeping secrets from him is damn near impossible anyway. I might as well stand in my own thoughts.

Matthew leans forward and bites on his knuckles.

“Then you should be smart enough to figure out that the book I wrote isn’t just a ‘dry read’, it’s what I live my afterlife by.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

“You forget yourself, Elizabeth. If you think I’m going to tolerate disrespect, you’ve got another thing coming.” He pulls his head back and looks at his watch. “We’ll finish this later. Don’t be late to dinner and don’t you dare set a foot off campus.”

I close my eyes and step aside so he can get out of the door. I push my weight against it. Screw that guy. Screw the whole freaking academy. I should just skip dinner. There might be enough odds and ends in the closet to make a stew. It’d be more comforting than whatever was waiting for me in the dining hall.

Who am I kidding? Whether or not I go to dinner, Matthew is still going to be here later. And I already missed lunch so any combination of scraps isn’t going to be enough to quell the hunger pangs in the pit of my stomach.

I grab a pair of fresh socks and hang my head on the way to dinner.

***

There are no missing place settings at the table today. Everyone is in their normal seats and it’s business as usual. Meaning the table speaks in hushed voices and I’m left out of most of it. Not like I’m in the mood to talk with these fakers anyway. Hercules doesn’t say much, like everyone else, he seems deflated now that Matthew is back.

I didn’t realize his dark cloud affected anyone but me. Then again, it can’t be comfortable for anyone to have a Council spy hanging around.

Matthew flicks my leg from underneath the table. I winch and look up at him. Jerk, I was trying to avoid him all dinner. The least he could do is ignore my thoughts.

He flicks me again, harder this time.

I shift closer to Hercules, his crate of wine digging into my arm, but just out of Matthew’s reach. He’s treating me like I’m a mannerless child and he’s my mother with a itchy foot. As soon as I think it, he strikes my ankle.

“Ouch!”

The heads at the table turn to me. Crap.

“Sorry,” I say, racking my brain for an excuse. “I must’ve gotten a splinter.” I rub my shoulder for effect.

“Shit, my bad,” Hercules says, then moves the crate off the bench and onto the floor. “You good?”

Mr. Ynez chuckles. “I’m surprised you’re being so chivalrous with her, I heard she pulled one over on you again in your afternoon class.”

Is everything I do at this place front page news?

Hercules puts a hand on my head.

“Sure did, but I’ll catch her slipping, eventually,” he says with a squeeze.

Why are all the men in my afterlife hurting me today?

“Don’t be so sure, she has Matthew to teach her his slippery ways, doesn’t she?” Tiffany interjects.

The table laughs lightly, and I can sense that everyone, besides Tiffany and Hercules, are treading a fine line and not trying to cross into disrespect.

“You say that as if I were a snake, Tiffany,” Matthew says, clearly not in the mood to joke around.

“Elizabeth’s actions today were more opossum-like than snake-like,” Hercules says. “I’ve never had a student play dead using another student’s blood before.”

All eyes turn to me again, and I look down at the empty dessert plate in front of me to avoid them.

“That is certainly, something,” the dean muses.

Ynez lets out a whistle. “Damn, did you learn that during a war or something?”

His question makes me hesitate for a moment. It’s just like his question from a few days ago, if there had been a famine in the living world before I died.

“My student’s methods are crude, but we’re working on refining them. What grade did you give my student’s performance, Hercules?”

Hercules shrugs.

“She made it to the lake, so she passes.”

Matthew nods. “And that’s all that matters.”

With the conversation effectively squashed, the Dean and others begin leaving for the night. It’s just my facilitator and I now.

I get up and start stacking the dirty dishes. Matthew takes a long, slow gulp from his water glass and sets it on the table instead of handing it to me. I stand awkwardly and wait for him to officially finish. Finally, he stands from his seat and crosses over the bench. I breeze past him to clear his mess.

“Don’t keep me waiting long, understand?”

I don’t turn back, even though I heard him. I’m not a child, and I’m not his slave. I don’t want to talk to him, so I won’t.

The moment of silence stretches until I stack the final glass in the crate of dirty dishes. I turn, and in a single motion, feel Matthew’s foot slide under mine, and fall backwards with the crate.

The sound of broken pieces of glass and porcelain echo off the hall walls.

“Disrespect me, Elizabeth, and I’ll knock you on your ass every time.” I look up to Matthew standing above me, nonchalantly putting his hands in his pockets. He’s never looked at me so coldly before, like I were scum he couldn’t get off his shoe. “Make sure to count the dishes, you will pick up any that you broke next Sunday to return to Chef Floy. Now, hurry up.”

He leaves out the front door and I resist the urge to scream. What abuse haven’t I suffered at this stupid place? It just never seems to end, and tonight it literally won’t. Matthew is going to wait for me back in my room, and it won’t be to give me an apple. Hopefully my streak of not getting jumped after dishes keeps up. I wouldn’t be able to handle that, not with the day I’ve had.

I get up and take the crate back to the kitchen. There are two glasses, a plate and a bowl missing from the dishes. They must’ve broken then vanished when I fell.

The missing dishes usually help me get through the chore faster, but not tonight. Taking inventory, and dreading going back to my room is definitely slowing me down. I’m the last one in the kitchen again.

I’m drying the last bowl when I notice a chip in the white porcelain. I take it over to one of the lanterns that is still lit and hold it up to the light.

Was it always this way? Or did it chip when I fell earlier? I thought things vanished once they were broken. I can’t imagine Chef being okay with serving his creations on damaged dishes. It had to have happened when I fell. The chip is small, barely a nick really. I wonder if it’ll heal like the rest of us do. I’ll have to ask Chef about it, or Caiden, since he has more patience for my out there questions.

I hear the door to the hall squeak as it opens. Guess I better come clean to Chef about the dishes. I turn, but instead of Chef Floy, it’s a Spark. They finished their dishes ages ago, what are they doing here?

You know what? I don’t care, I have to get my meeting with Matthew over with. I start walking back to my station to finish drying the damaged bowl.

“Hey, Elizabeth, taking your time today?”

I wipe the bowl and set it down with the others.

“Actually, I’m leaving now,” I say, wiping my hands with my drying towel. I turn from my sink and my shoes tap his. What is he doing so close to me? And who is he anyway?

He’s big, almost Meat level big, but the yellow emblem on his chest coupled with the slight electric jolt I felt from our toes touching tells me he’s a Spark. I take a step back.

Why does this have to happen today? Is it because Matthew is back? Usually it’s his fan girls who beat me up at night, did this guy belong to the same group?

“Why not stay a bit? Give us a little time to get acquainted,” he says.

So he’s not a fangirl.

I don’t like this. With only one lantern left burning a few feet away, the main source of light is the moonlight streaming through the windows above my sink station. Why didn’t I stop the Aquas from turning off the lights? I can hardly make anything out in here.

The Spark steps forward and into the moonlight. Even in the light, I can only make out his jet black hair and the white shine of a crooked grin.

I eye the back door behind him.

“Sorry, can’t keep my facilitator waiting,” I say and begin walking around him.

He grabs my wrist as I walk past him. An electric pulse shoots up my body and makes my hair stand on end. It’s a constant uncomfortable tingle that feels like I’ve licked a battery.

He spins me around, forcing me up against the sink.

“Oh you have no limits do you? I like that,” he chides.

I try to wrestle my wrist from his grip, but my arm is starting to go numb from the electricity.

“Let me go,” I say, trying to keep my voice strong and level.

“Come on, don’t be like that. We both know you aren’t shy,” he says, his gaze slowly trailing up and down my body. “Or are you just saving yourself for the staff?”

“Those are just stupid rumors, get your hands off of me!” I pull up my legs and try to kick him but he shoves me back further against the sink, standing so close to me that I can’t move my legs.

I can smell his breath, it’s the cinnamon and peaches from the cobbler that was served. I wanted to try it so badly, but now the sweet smell makes me feel nauseous.

“I’ve heard other rumors too,” he says quietly as his grip loosens on my right arm.

I take the opportunity and tighten my numb hand into a fist. As I move to deliver a punch, a bolt of electricity strikes my left elbow and radiates through my whole body.

I hear the front of my dress get torn open.

“Well it looks like those rumors were false,” he chuckles.

And I just want to run away, to be anywhere but here right now. To be with Caiden in the library eating vegetable stew and reading old poetry. I feel like I can’t breathe, and my stomach won’t stop hitting waves. And for a second, I can almost smell the scent of stale book pages.

“Hey what’s going on here?”

Chef Floy’s voice brings me back to the kitchen and all at once the numbness in my body is gone. The Spark let me go. I reach for the counter towards the chipped bowl and swing it towards the Spark’s face.

It connects with something, skull or wall, I’m not sure. I clutch my torn clothes and run out the back door.

***

I leave the cold sting of the night air behind me as I close the door to the basement corridor. My legs begin to wobble as I get to my door. I pull at the handle, but it doesn’t open and I don’t have the will to go through the rigmarole to get inside.

Instead, I crumble against the door and sob into it. The adrenaline that flutily tried to protect me is fading, leaving behind feelings I didn’t know I could feel at once. Like I needed a shower, but at the same time wanted to wallow in shame. Angry and scared, but the only way my body would interpret these feelings was to flood my eyes.

The door opens behind me and I fall backwards into my room.

“I told you not to be late. Elizabeth? Are you alright? What happened?”

Matthew crouches down beside me, and tries to pull me up, but I roll away from him.

“Please, just go,” I blubber. I don’t want him here, to see me like this or tell me how he was right. I can’t handle it right now.

“Alright. I’ll go,” he says calmly. “Just tell me what happened and I’ll leave.”

How could I do that? I can’t, I don’t even want to think right now. I cover my face with my hands and cry into them.

“I’m going to help you inside, okay?” He puts an arm under my knees and his hand on my shoulder. I try to push him away as he stands.

“Don’t touch me, just leave me alone!” I beat on his chest as he struggles to place me on my bed.

“Sorry,” he says, stepping away. He doesn’t leave, he just sits at my desk and stares at the floor. “Would you like me to bring you your pajamas? Or make you a glass of tea?”

Silence settles in and is only broken by my sniffles and Matthew adjusting himself at my desk. I don’t know what he’s waiting for. How many times do I have to tell him to go away for him to take the hint?

“Okay, if you’re sure, then I’ll go. See you tomorrow.”

I turn once I hear the door click shut. Took him long enough. I sit up, at the foot of my bed are my pajamas. How’d he manage to get them without me hearing?

I pull my dress above my head and toss it to the corner of my room where I can’t see it. I snuggle into the fresh sweats and t-shirt; it’s the closest comfort I have in on this whole damn campus.