Chapter 3

St. Michael's

 

I walked out of the office, clutching my schedule, and walking in a bit of a daze.  No matter where my brain was taking me to, no matter what question I could come up with, the conclusion was the same.  Marion was right, every retort, every excuse, every reason I conjured as to why I shouldn't be here, were pointless when she put it like that.  I needed to pull my head out of my a*s and at least give it a shot.  I could potentially sharpen and strengthen my magic, but also secure myself a separate future if I wanted.  It should be a no brainer, but I could still hear his voice, gentle and loving, telling me that I can never trust the governance.

"They will want to take you Bijou, for your power.  They will tempt you in and offer you the world, if you will only help them.  You cannot let them, never let them in or trust them.  It's just you and me, forever."

I shook off the feeling of his voice, and tried to quell the nausea that was rising in the back of my throat.  Days like this were confusing for me, the old and the new being brought into the same light, demanding my attention.   I felt like two halves of whole that weren't accurately merged. 

The halls were still a bit empty but the odd person here or there started to stream in, and with them, so did the stares.  I didn't care about them or what they were saying, I was searching out the halls for the one face I knew.  When I didn't see him, and a look around indicated everyone was getting ready for the day, I abandoned my search and went to find my locker.

I found it along the senior corridor, ignoring the looks everyone was giving me.  I was good at this part, the ignoring was second nature to me.  I found my locker and spent little time on the lock, flicking my fingers to open it when the third round of combination attempts didn't work. 

"You can't do that, outside of your spell classes that is," a booming male voice said from behind me.  I closed my eyes and rested my head against the locker, not really wanting to turn and look happy to see him.  I should be throwing him down the hallway after what he did to me, but instead I turned and faced him.

"Would have been nice to know about this ahead of time John," I snapped at him using his first name.

"I couldn't say anything to you, Marion wanted to be the one to let you know," he said looking for once sheepish.

"Was it all a lie?" I asked him.  I had been told my blunt honesty was off putting, my foster parents thought I was being confrontational.  I didn't know how to explain to them it was just part of me.

"Of course I wanted to help you, after everything you think I would be dishonest with you if I didn't think it was for a good reason?"  He even looked offended I even thought it.

"Well you didn't want me then, did Marion offer you something more tempting this time around?" I asked him, knowing I shouldn't be discussing this in public but unable to stop myself.  JP had enough sense to drag me into an open classroom behind us.  He checked the room and then closed the door, much to the dismay of several students who were hoping to eavesdrop.

"It was her idea, but I needed no bribe.  How you could you suggest that?" he asked, anger and fury marking his tone.

"If you wanted to help me, why didn't you take me with you?  When I was begging for you in the hospital, when no one would take me in, when they put me in that awful home, where were you?  Reaping the benefits of being the hero, while I was put away.  Now it makes sense why you called me out of the blue offering me a place to stay.  It was Marion, not you, offering to get me to come here.  Which you should have told me was a governance school!" I said, yelling at him.

"I didn't think you would come, and what Marion was offering to you couldn't be ignored because of your prejudice of this place.  This is the best chance you have at making something of yourself, and you know it."  He looked angry, but still hopeful I would understand.  I did, but my pride was wounded, and I felt like I was back to square one with JP again.

"It wouldn't have been right to take you with me then Bijou.  I was a kid myself, I wouldn't have known what to do with you."  We looked at each other, direct and almost uncomfortable eye contact.

“Don’t you dare call me that,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest and glaring at the nickname.  Only my father and JP called me that, and neither memory was filled with love anymore.

“Brienne, it wouldn’t have been right.”

"You were twenty JP, hardly a child.  At least not a child enough for them to send you to us in the first place," I responded back.

"You really think they would give a twenty year old, the fifteen year old daughter of Remy Moreau to take care of?" he said sarcastically back, looking for all the world like he wanted to take back what he said as soon as it came out.  I narrowed my eyes further. 

"I was sixteen by then, but we can argue details all day.  The point is, I am his daughter, and that's the exact reason no one wanted to take me.  I got put into that group home, and let me tell you, if you want to read how that went you can read the eight hundred page manifesto that is currently on Marion's desk."

"I thought of you every day, don't assume I was off 'playing the hero' while you were suffering.  I regret it all the time, but at the end of the day I have always tried to do what's best for you," he told me.

"What's best for me?  Or what is comfortable for you?" I asked taking a step towards him.  It was the same thing I did with him the night he left me, the same thing I did when I first got to his apartment.  I keep hoping one of these days he will snap out of it and realize taking a risk on me would be worth it.

"Don't go there Brienne, not again," he said backing away from me, hands up and eyes wary.

"Why not, you know where I stand, do you really want to waste what we could have?" I asked, taking another step closer.

"You may not know this, but it's unethical for me as a teacher here to be having this conversation.  It's irresponsible for you to be living with me as well, but I don't know what else to do with you."

"Who cares, Marion knows I'm crashing with you, what's so wrong about it?" I asked, feeling confused. 

"I'm four years older than you for one, but as a teacher here our relationship is inappropriate."  He informed me, a bright red blush staining his cheeks.

"What would be inappropriate about having a relationship with me?" I asked him plainly.

"My job, Veronica, your age," he said listing it off on his fingers.  He took a big swallow, I followed his Adam’s apple with my eyes, unable to look away.

"I've seen more than anyone here, including the instructors.  Sometimes I feel like a thousand years old.  I've seen grown adults do things that a child would never consider doing, and I’ve witnessed children do things that would curl even your toes.  Do you know how old I was when I first killed someone?  I was eight JP, what does age mean then?  Your argument sounds like a social construct that makes you feel better about not addressing the two of us," I told him.  JP let out a few strains of French swear words as he pulled on his hair.

"You are impossible," he said, looking over my face with a gentle expression.

"No, I'm right, you just don't want to face it yet.  I was brought up to chase the things that scared me, to find them and tackle them to the ground, to make them submit to my will.”

"There will never be anything between the two of us Brienne."  He sighed and plopped down at one of the desks in the classroom.

"There could be."  I sat next to him at another desk.  I heard the bell ring and realized I should be moving along.  He gave a long and deep sigh, full of resignation and defeat.

"You need to tone it down with the kids here.  They aren't used to the way you talk so try and be...gentle."  I gave a laugh at his advice.

"Don't worry, I learned that lesson in my foster home."

"It's best not to mention you're staying with me."  He was inspecting a nasty word that was carved into the desktop, tracing the words with his fingertips.

"I may be socially awkward but I'm not stupid.  Plus I don't intend to talk to anyone here anymore than I have to." 

 

***

 

We left the classroom after that, he walked me back to my locker and then to my first classroom.

"Why can't I use my spells on the lock and stuff?" I asked as we walked down the hall.

"Habit.  In the human world it's not acceptable to use everyday magic, plus we are teaching control.  We can't have everyone flying spells all over the place like that, it would be a disaster.  Keep it to classes and at home."  I laughed and nodded, knowing it was going to take a monumental effort not to.

"What do you have first?" JP asked looking at my schedule.

"History, Governance, then spells class until lunch.  After that I have an evaluation, for the advanced sessions," I said with a sigh, wanting to do anything else than have to attend that nightmare.

"Not looking forward to that one?" He asked, knowing full well I hated the magical testing.  It reminded me too much of Remy, and what he used to subject me to.

"You going to be there?" I asked him.

"Yes, all the instructors will be present.  You should know most of the advanced students will be there as well,” he told me, a wince on both our faces at the news.  Great, this day was just getting better and better.

We reached the room, the door was closed but I could hear the deep voice of the teacher even through the heavy wood.  I reached for the door handle and then turned towards JP. 

"Pull me from the evaluation if I get out of control."  He nodded at me, and I held his eyes, trying to draw out some more strength as I pulled the door open.

"You must be Brienne," the large bushy haired man called out to me as I appeared in the front of the class. 

"Yes," I said holding out my schedule for him to check and sign. 

"I'm Mr. Rains.  Take a seat, there looks to be one open near the back, next to Weston."  I scanned the room and found the seat he was talking about.  As I approached, I could feel all the pairs of eyes on me as I made my descent towards the back of he class.

West, I was assuming by the teachers indication, was a tall boy with light strawberry blonde hair and velvety brown eyes that made no attempt to conceal his calculating stare.  It wasn't malicious, but it was assessing.  I looked to the seat next to him and found that it held his bag with a heavy history book perched on top.  Raising an eyebrow at him, inclining my head towards the seat, I tried to get him to move so I could sit.  He kept scanning my face, looking over my scar with an interesting expression.  I cleared my throat, but he made no move to find a new place for his things.

"Mind if I have a seat?" I asked dryly to him hoping he would get the hint and move his bag.

"Not at all," he said with a wide smirk tipping his lips.  I shouldn't have done it, I could hear JP in my head reminding me that I couldn't do spell work outside of class, but this kid was pissing me off.  I said a quick chant under my breath, pretending to mutter something, and placed his bag and book on the ground next to his own desk.  I only needed a second to touch his book to accomplish what I needed anyway.

"Now that everyone is settled, let's get down to it.  Your syllabus outlines what we will be working on this semester, and you all need to review the information on your own time.  As you can tell, we will have a very busy and tight time frame, so we are going to jump right in.  Let's go around the room and introduce ourselves," he waved his hand for picked the first girl in the first row to start.  I groaned on the inside, and just patiently waited for my turn.

"Does it hurt?" I heard West whisper to me, gesturing to my face, as the students were taking turns with introductions.  The teacher was busy doing attendance at the same time, paying no attention to what anyone was saying.  The two boys in front of him, I was guessing his friends, were looking over their shoulders to take part in the exchange.

"Just the one spot, and when it's sunny out my eye bothers me.  I don't have much pigment left in my iris." I told him as I perused through the first couple of pages in the textbook in front of me.  I could feel his body jerk in surprise that I answered him.  Did he think he was going to bully me around, or that the rumor I was mute and dumb was true?

"What about the arm?" the dark haired boy asked me pointing towards the dark suture line that marked my upper arm.

"Not anymore," I told him tracing the long scar with my finger and remembering how I got it.

"What happened?" West asked, the smirk long escaped from his face and replaced with marked interest.  I didn't know how to read that on him, but I went with my gut.

"My father broke my arm and he didn't set it right."  I saw his jaw tick just a bit and then I noticed the whole class was silent and staring at West and me.  I guess it was our turn for introductions.

"I'm West Mackinnon," he said to everyone in a voice that wavered just a fraction before he recovered.  Instead of offering a tidbit or anecdote like everyone else in class, he ended it there and turned his gaze on me again.  Alrightly then.

"I'm Brienne Moreau, pick a rumor about me and insert here," I said off hand and trained my eyes back on the teacher.

"Okay..." the teacher said drawing out his unease over my introduction, "Let's open up to the second chapter and begin to read.  We will discuss the questions at the end of the section in thirty minutes."

I turned to the correct page and a minute later I saw West hold up his hand.  I tried to stifle my grin by turning in my chair so he couldn't see my face.

"Yes, Mr. Mackinnon?" Mr. Rains asked.

"There’s something wrong with my book," I heard him say.  "It's all in...French?" he said in a questioning tone.

Mr. Rains made his way back to where West was sitting to examine the book.  "Well I'll be, it must be a mistake.  I didn't think it was available in anything but English, oh well, I'm afraid to say we only have an exact number of texts per student, so you must make due for now.  Surely your French is strong enough lad, we're too near the Canadian border for you not to know enough to get by."  I frowned not thinking about this area, we were in the northern part of Maine and most here spoke at least some French.

"I can speak it professor, but reading world history in it is another thing all together," West said with a frown.  I suppressed a giggle and had to turn my head away even further so he wouldn't catch me.

We continued through the class, and it became increasingly harder and harder to hide my facial expressions every time West groaned next to me.  As the bell rang, I felt his eyes on me as I gathered up my things. 

"Is there a problem?" I asked him when he continued to glare at me.  He didn't answer then, just raised one eyebrow and gave me a look that clearly stated he suspected I had something to do with his book.

"If you want help with your homework, I'm fluent in French, d'accord?"  I gave him a wink and then left for my next class.

***

 

Much to my utter lack of luck, West and his two counterparts, who I now knew to be named Logan and Mave, were sitting front row and center of my next class.  I didn't even try to hide my eye roll when I noticed that there was an empty seat in between West and Mave.  Scanning the room I couldn't find another seat, and with a resigned sigh I plopped down in defeat. 

"That was a nice little trick with the textbook," Mave said grinning.

"If I knew what you were talking about, I'm sure I would be flattered."  I yawned, knowing I needed more coffee if I was going to get through today in one piece.  In the back of my head I kept running through all of the possible outcomes from the assessment testing, and each one of them ended with trouble.  I almost tuned the guys out entirely in my musings, and when I felt a hand on my arm Mave looked like he had been attempting to talk to me.

"You're a little strange," Mave said, but just as he said it I saw West shoot him a sharp look.

"I've been called worse."  I shrugged, I took it more like a compliment anyhow.

I looked to West, who had resumed his appraisal of me.  "I have better shields than anyone here, you won't get in," I told him tapping at my head as I drew on my notebook, realizing that he was a mind mage.  He had been trying to get a read on me from the start, which must have been frustrating for him.  He opened his mouth and closed it again, obviously struggling for words.

"The eyes," I said answering the question I could tell was on his mind.  "You have the eyes of someone who likes to read people, figure them out.   They don't miss a thing do they?" I asked him, leaning forward so I could get into his space.

"No they don't."  His voice now held a note of hesitation, a bit like he was in over his head a bit with me, which he was.

"Do us!" Mave shouted, like an excited child at a fortune telling booth.  I couldn't help but return the smile.

"Mave works in illusion, if I had to guess it would be manipulating natural forms."  His jaw dropped and looked a bit pale, maybe I should have gone round the bush with it.

"Is there a way you could tell?" he asked, in a more serious tone.  I would be serious about if I were him, he would be more of an asset in the field if no one could tell what he specialized in.

"You smell like earth, and something hard to pin down, almost like mist or fog.  It's quite an alluring scent," I told him honestly.  It reminded me of the trailer in the early morning.  Logan was sitting quietly, but with his eyes still trained on me I knew he wanted me to read him next.

"And Logan can fly," I said, finding despite myself I was impressed with his skill.  Not many wizards could fly, and those that could often had other impressive abilities, but I couldn't know them yet, not without touching him.

"It's impossible for her to know all that just by sitting there, she's just playing you idiots," I heard a girl say just as she wrapped her long arms around West's neck.  She had long perfectly curled dark hair, with matching chocolate colored eyes.  Her stare was fixed on me, it was a clear challenge and one that I could not ignore.  If I let her get away with it now, it would only get worse.

"If you are having trouble paying enough attention to notice, then you should take another of those pills.  It might help, even if you got them off someone else," I said cruelly back.  I heard Mave and Logan choke on a laugh as I said it, and she managed to turn a nice shade of red.

"Did your father teach you to do that?"  She looked supremely happy to have thought of that comeback.  Like using Remy against me had never been attempted before.

"Oh he taught me many things, mostly things that involved pain, but let's just say that is one of my personal talents."  I yawned again, getting bored with her.  She was going to have to do a lot better than that if she wanted to get under my skin.

She opened her mouth to speak and it was West this time who stepped in, "Enough Raquel."  She kissed his cheek, all the while looking at me.

"Sure baby," she said in a sickly sweet voice. 

"How did you know I could fly?" Logan whispered as the next teacher came in the room.  I could hear West and Raquel talking in whispers as he turned in her direction.  I glanced back to Logan, he looked far more innocent than the rest of his counterparts, and he had a fresh and kind face.  It put me more at ease.

"I look in your eyes and I see the sky, it's anxious and swirling in your iris', like it's waiting for your return."  He looked at me a long moment then.

"That's exactly what it feels like," he said wistfully.

"What are you?" he asked me then, as everyone around us became supremely silent.  It was gentle nudging suggestion, and I knew he wouldn't press me if I declined.  Still, it was too early.

"I am something else entirely Logan," I said with a sigh.