Chapter 205

With our lovemaking finished, we lay together, naked and tangled on the floor. Neil’s flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. I’m on my side, tucked up against his chest, with his arm securely wrapped around my back. With a gentle, barely-there touch, I trace my finger along the path of one of the tendrils of poison marring his skin.

“You could stay on,” he says again now. He’s said so many times during our lovemaking, but things said in the moment should not be listened to with any measure of sincerity.

Things said afterwards, though… when the best part of the afterglow has worn off and things start getting sticky. That’s when the real truths are said. Forget everything that came before. This is the moment.

“I can’t,” I say. “For a lot of reasons.” I lightly drag my finger back up the tendril toward the source. I don’t directly touch the wound now, but even hovering my finger a few centimeters away, I can feel the numbing buzz at my fingertips. “Not the least is this.”

“If you want to stay, I can cope with it.”

The worst part is I believe him. I bet he would keep the silver, even as it continues to drain him, for as long as I would ask him to. But I would never ask him to.

“You shouldn’t have to.”

“I can handle it,” he says. “I can handle any pain.”

This is a circular argument we have had many, many times in the past, ever since I first learned about me being among the reasons he’s carrying that poison around. He’s tough. He shouldn’t have to be. Again and again, around and around. Neither of us will ever find a solution that will satisfy us both.

So I don’t bother starting the cycle again. I keep my mouth shut and trace my finger around his wound, until the stickiness is too much to handle and we both stand up to go clean ourselves off.

When I come out of the attached bathroom, I find Neil already dressed and on his phone. He runs a hand through his hair.

“I didn’t forget, I was simply… distracted…” He glances at me, and then clears his throat. “I will be there at once.” He clicks off his phone.

“Everything okay?” I ask him.

He sighs. “Duty calls.”

Even laid up with silver poisoning for half of the day every day, Neil still carries so much of everything on his shoulders. He is tough. And admirable. And so very brave.

But… as his friend, I want to protect those qualities and not exploit them.

Neil’s painting of dream seems nice – me staying here, receiving daily pleasures, etc. etc. – but the cost might be Neil himself. As well as my other dreams and ambitions.

My heart may want this, but my heart can’t be trusted.

Neil and I smile at each other. He comes to me and kisses me on the cheek. Then he’s out the door.

I glance at the stationary bike again. Then up at the clock.

Oh, shit! I’m going to be late for class!

I curse the effectiveness of Neil’s distracting kisses and touches the entire rush to my room where I take the fastest shower of my life and change into my day clothes. Then I keep cursing it the entire jog to class.

I’m pushing my body again. My ribs whine in discomfort, but it’s not blinding pain. So we must be doing okay.

I make it into my lecture hall with about fifteen seconds to spare. I spot Debbie, who is aggressively waving at me from the fourth row. I take the open seat next to her and collapse.

During break, Debbie half turns in her chair towards me and asks, “How many days?”

I don’t need her to clarify. I know what she’s talking about. The topic has come up every time I’ve seen Debbie the past few weeks.

“Four,” I say.

Debbie sighs, and it sounds kind of whimsical. Even with how terribly the brothers treated her when I first met her, even she seems taken in by the wonders of the Pyramid and the mysteries within. I’ve tried to explain many times that it’s basically a frat house in a pyramid shape, but she won’t hear it.

The Pyramid is special, apparently.

I’ve never really understood it before, but as my date of leaving it looms… maybe I’m starting to understand at last.

“It’s a mess,” I say. “I’ve barely packed, and I don’t have a clue where to even send my clothes. Where am I going to live?” I look at her. “Are their rooms in the dorms?”

“I don’t know,” Debbie admits. “It’s not unheard of, I don’t think, for some students to move around in the middle of the year, but I don’t think it happens all that often. Maybe someone dropped out? You could take their room.”

Debbie taps her chin. “You need to talk to the undergraduate administration. They’d know. Or at least, they’d have resources for you.”

Ah! “That’s great, Debbie, thanks.” I could really kick myself now for not planning this far ahead at all.

I really have gotten too complacent living at the Pyramid, where all of my life’s needs were fulfilled by a slew of servants under the brothers’ command.

I can’t believe I let myself get used to that life. I feel like I’m floundering now on my own. Like I have to teach myself how to swim again.

I did all this for myself once, before I met the Hayes’s. Surely I could just as easily do it again.

I sigh. Just one more thing I’ve let grown stagnant in my cushy Pyramid life.

I flip a page in my notebook to get a clean page to write myself a list.

Contact Undergrad Admin – Housing, goes in the first line.

Bank – Money? I know I have a ton of money sitting there, accumulating thanks to my stipend. But I have no idea how much is actually in there. I feel like I should probably know before I leave the safety net of the Pyramid. Never know when I’ll need it.

Movers… Neil probably has it all sorted on how to get my boxes to wherever I will need them to be, but maybe my independence should start here. I can’t keep letting Neil do everything for me. He’s done more than enough.

As my list of logistical things grows longer and longer, Debbie starts talking again. I miss the start of what she’s saying, but I abruptly stop my pen the minute “Wyatt” reaches my ears.

I look up at once. “Huh? Start over. What did you say?”

“Oh.” Debbie seems non-pulsed about having to start over. She really does love sharing her gossip, even if asked to repeat it multiple times to the same person. Have to keep all the rumors straight after all. Wouldn’t want anyone to get confused. “I asked if you have heard that Wyatt dropped out of school.”

My pen slips across the paper.

I shouldn’t be surprised. That makes sense, I guess. After his public shame, and then his private one, he probably felt like he couldn’t show his face around here anymore.

But if he’s not here anymore, where would he go?

A pit forms in the bottom of my stomach. I think I know. And I hate it.

I need to call my Mom. Now.