Page 70 of A Dead Man's B-Side
“Crap!” At his words, I rushed back into my dorm and threw open the closet door for the clean uniform I was sure was waiting for me. I dressed in record speed, brushed my teeth and splashed ice cold water over my face to wake myself up further. By the time I’d finished picking up my bag on the way out, Ajax was still waiting for me.
“What are you doing?” I asked as I hustled down the hall.
He shrugged, his steps matching my own. “I have a free period, and you seem interesting enough.”
He reminded me of someone I knew, but I couldn't place my finger on it.
Someone I’d stolen from? Someone who'd stolen from me?
It was getting harder and harder to remember what my life had been like before Castle Hill. Almost as if I’d begun at the gates and ended at my dorm, the sum of my existence.
This wasn’t a bad place to die, if I’d thought about it long enough. It is the best option I’ve stumbled upon so far.
“Hey, Alexandr?”
I pushed open the door and stepped out into the gloomy morning, the dark clouds swallowing the sky with threats of rain were no longer something I questioned the chances of. “What?”
Ajax tightened his letterman jacket closer around himself to ward off the chill. “Today’s the day of the dinner.” He pulled out a small card from his pocket and held it out to me.
I paused in my step, classes forgotten.
“Where did you get that?”
My mind reeled back to what Thaddeus had told me. Was he purposefully excluding me to test me?
Ajax tilted his head and furrowed his brows, maybe at the suspicion in my voice. “You were in such a hurry you didn’t notice it slipped under your door. I got mine this morning too.”
I took the card from between his fingers and into my own, flipping the slick, expensive paper, the light catching on the gold lettering.
The Gallery. 9 p.m.
Appropriate attire required.
I read it over and nodded slowly, relief filling me. I rolled my neck, pushing away the conclusion I’d jumped to in my mind. “So… uhh… What’s considered appropriate attire?”
Ajax linked his hands behind his head and started walking backgrounds as we continued down the path, passing the turn into the Rec Zone, an area I’d never been to. Come to think of it, I’d never explored the campus on my own as much as I’d hoped I would.
“It’s The Gallery, the restaurant is strict about that sort of thing to make themselves more exclusive. Honestly, I think it’s stupid.”
I didn’t. I understood that there will always be a distinct line of difference between rich and poor, and the rich preferred to keep that line as thick as possible. Perhaps Ajax had never set foot in the projects and was blind to the hierarchy we were all born into.
At my silence, he continued to speak, “Essentially, trousers and a pressed dress shirt. Quarter zips, appropriate vests, suits, that kind of thing.”
I decided that the only thing resembling what Ajax was describing, put together with what I owned, was my uniform. If I removed the jacket, I’d have a pressed dress shirt and trousers.
I nodded along as Ajax fought to walk backwards without leaning too far to one side or the other before giving up and turning to hustle alongside me. After a few moments of silence, he opened his mouth to speak. I cut him off. “What do you play?”
He looked at me in confusion, and I elaborated, “You said you had morning practice earlier.”
He nodded in remembrance. “Mmm, yeah, I play football. It’s fun.”
It didn’t sound fun from his tone, almost as if he wished that it was, but found it coming short each time. “You don’t have any other interests?”
“Do you?”
I could feel the raised brow directed at the side of my face, but I kept my gaze forward, to the growing buildings which held ourclasses. I wasn’t particularly excited to start my morning with Mr Browne, and so I slowed my steps only by a little bit. Ajax seemed like the lesser of two evils.
His question wasn’t something I was afraid to answer, in fact, not by a long shot. But he was building towards something, that, I was sure of.
