Page 53 of A Dead Man's B-Side
Marigold was a non-factor. However, I wouldn’t ignorantly assume she was completely useless considering her place among us.
Everyone was chosen for their skill.
But what those skills were, only time could tell.
Though maybe I was getting ahead of myself. I didn’t know everything about these people, and until, at least, the weekly dinner, I couldn’t properly classify them.
Of course, I wouldn’t think highly of myself either. I didn’t believe I’d find myself fully fitting within the lot, and although I was constantly at odds with my self-image, I lacked the attachment.
I spent close to my entire life running, sometimes it was the only thing I knew, and that didn’t leave time or space to understand what I truly wanted out of my life. If I even found a purpose to continue it.
I already had one foot out of the gate of Castle Hill, only because I didn’t know how to live any other way.
And maybe that was why I’d been so unbothered by my unintentional joining of a pseudo-cult without a deep and honest care.
“Having second thoughts?”
Paris scoffed a laugh. “You’d like that, I bet.”
When I only raised a brow, she rolled her eyes at my lack of response. “No… only that it’s strange to go from an unassuming student to… having to choose your future in all of three seconds.”
I shrugged and went to move around her, pushing away the little voice telling me to wait for Wolf. “Life has ways of doing that.”
She followed after me. “You know, you seem to always be analyzing everything, and yet I know absolutely nothing about you.”
Her words had come out of nowhere, and I hadn’t meant to tense, but it seemed that was all she’d needed. Her footsteps sped up as we reached a wide corridor, and she moved to walk slightly a step ahead, most likely to watch for any reactions. I didn’t give her any. “I guess you’ll have to start analyzing everything like I do.”
She jutted out her bottom lip in a mock pout before letting out a deep sigh and continuing in silence.
She seemed to have grown bored by the time we’d reached the exit, and when I’d held the door open for her, she placed a hand on her chest with a wide expression. “They teach you chivalry in public school.”
I’ll admit, I almost let out a chuckle at her words, but instead, I opted to roll my eyes, suppressing the smile threatening to grow.
When I continued down the library steps and headed towards the road leading back to the Fourth Quarter, Paris didn’t follow.
I turned with a curious stare when I failed to hear the click of her heels against the cobblestone. She was where I’d left her, at the bottom of the stairs and looking utterly exhausted with her head thrown back to the dark sky above.
“You okay?”
Her head lowered to meet my eyes. “Hmm? Of course. Youhead back on your own. I’ve got a few errands I’ve got to get done.”
I didn’t ask that errands had to be completed at what I guessed was ten o’clock at night. She didn’t look like she was open to answering. So instead, I replied with a polite nod before continuing on my path back to my room.
I’d noticed it was quiet, too quiet, and couldn’t help but look over my shoulder for someone, anyone. I half expected August to pop out of nowhere and throw his unsolicited arm over my shoulder, or for Wolf to hover over me with his simple smile.
Spending so much time on my own, and then all of a sudden being surrounded by so many people, having to engage with them, react to them, was exhausting. And I hadn’t realized the toll it’d taken on me until the uncannily silent walk back. Until my head hit my pillow and my eyes closed involuntarily.
The only thing I could keep note of was that I hadn’t heard Wolf return to his room before I let myself be pulled under by a thick blanket of sleep.
I had been listening attentively when Professor Julias Caddel assigned the history essay, and it was partly because he was an easy-going professor who took pride in his Welsh heritage. I found that I wouldn’t take a history lesson from anyone else besides him.
His lectures were intellectually stimulating, and he didn’t mind calling on students and putting them on the spot, but he never ridiculed them for lack of answer, or lack of detail in their answer.
He corrected with a smile and bantered with anyone willing to ask a ‘stupid question’.
Except, I was already tuning out the rest of the conversation after the class discussion had begun.
At times, a sense of inferiority filled me at the lack of ability in keeping up when they’d use such terminology; terminology I’d never heard of.
