Page 149 of A Dead Man's B-Side
I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding and placed a palm over his shoulder, a serious air surrounding us. I really wasn’t good at any of this, but I had to at least try. “August, if you feel guilty or afraid, even in a self-preserving manner, that makes you just as human as everyone else. If not more. The world is filled with horrible, cruel people. I would know. So don’t worry about it. You’ll be fine. Besides, it’s only a couple of weeks.”
I nodded along with my words as they drifted away into the silence, and silent we remained. August was looking at me with those wide eyes again before he suddenly burst into tears.
“Oh god.” I groaned and began patting his back as he slid his arms around me. “There, there.”
I winced, my face twisting and nose wrinkling.
August tightened his arms around me as I tried pulling away. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, and I was standing over him. You can understand why I’d want to get away.
“Thank you. That was really nice. That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” He spoke through blubbers that mirrored King’s–
I broke my thought before it could get far. “Right, yeah. No problem. Can you let go now?”
I looked over at Paris as Ajax smiled at the server for a reason I didn’t bother deciphering. He was rather pleased with himself.
Paris met my eyes, turning to face me. “What?”
I raised my brows at her curt tone. “Is there something wrong?”
Paris raised her brows, mirroring me, before closing her eyes in a momentary blink. “Maybe.”
I tilted my head away as Wolf threw his napkin at August with a chuckle for something he’d gestured. Most likely mocking Ajax.
The Gallery was as lively as it had always been on a Friday night. Paris and I marched our familiar path to the store for cigarettes and box dye. This time, she retrieved bobby pins and hair rollers. These days, I spent so much time with Paris, under the pretense of watching over her and tracking her rehabilitation, I was beginning to understand an entirely different branch of English I never knew existed.
I realized I didn’t know a lot of things before coming to Castle Hill.
For example, I now knew that you don’t ever get an at-home perm kit. The chemical smell isn’t worth the cop-out. The salon wouldn’t let you leave out of there with anything that could overpower your perfume. Except Paris swore to never get a perm, no matter the circumstance, after a 1979 incident that she wouldn’t dare delve into.
“Are you mad at me?” I asked.
Paris tilted her head. “Huh, I wonder what gave it away.”
I shrugged. “The withering stare.”
She gaped, offended. “I don’t have a withering bone in my body.”
I snorted, turning to the appetizers the server placed in front of me. I thanked her and unrolled my napkin. “I saw you pointing out Marceline’s bleach stain only yesterday in the middle of class.”
She blew out her cheeks, heat reaching her ears. Her hair grew longer over the months and was currently held back by a black satinheadband. “She was insulting Ayana behind her back. If anything, I'm loyal.”
“Friends again?” I mixed my meal with my cigarette, taking a drag as Paris launched into a rather exciting story about the rocky friendship between herself and Ayana. I later discovered that she had been the first to knock on Paris’ door the night she’d taken me in to dye my hair.
“Can you believe the nerve of that girl? She claims that she’s seen me with you one too many times for it to be a coincidence since Callum had offered you a position. Me, a spy? Sure, I may have asked what Callum had in store for the Queens Club starting January, but it was only out of pure curiosity.”
Like hell it was. Paris, as it turns out, was taking it upon herself to make enemies with Callum when he’d given me that scare a month ago. And it was clear that Ayana wasn’t going to side with anyone other than her president.
I hadn’t noticed the table fall silent until Rained asked to confirm she’d heard correctly, “Ayana. As in Ayana Savané. She called you a spy?”
Paris nodded, speaking to the entire table now, “Uh-huh, she tried to call me a spy, but I gave it right back to her, let me tell you. I told her I’d known her longer than I’d known Sasha. Why would I try to spy for a friend I’d made only recently? She’s paranoid, maybe Callum’s breathing down her neck, maybe he’s the one who’s paranoid.”
Rain nodded.
Paris, I found, often spoke as if she believed her lies.
I swallowed my bite and chimed in, “I’ll prepare for all possibilities over break. Besides, I have the student body president and the president of the largest club on campus in my corner.”
Perhaps that’s something Callum is only now beginning to consider. If he knew about The Founder’s Society, as he so confidently let on, he must know that he alone could only do so little damage, for whatever reasons he may have.
