Page 20 of The Commons

Nervous, I rub my fingers against my palm, desperately hoping he will respond favorably.

He does not turn, but he begins to speak. “You only have two strikes left before you’re out.”

Without thinking, I blurt, “What do you mean out?”

“Out of my mind as someone who I could ever consider offering respect.”

“I didn’t know Patrons even offered anyone else respect.”

He turns slowly, eyeing me, arms folded. “Stand up.”

What the… my feet rise up, drawing back, fear sprinting through my insides. He rises up, striking a drumming thud to my chest, walking toward me.

He stops, close. “Do you know how Patrons punish students?” His breath lingers on my skin.

“I… u…” I stutter as my eyes hit the ground. My mind runs wild to remember… Commons Binder Rule 27… whatever they deem ap⁠—

“Whatever we deem appropriate.” His voice sinks into my chest. “Now do you want to know what I deem appropriate?”

I shake my head immediately. “No.”

“No. That’s what I thought. So, get to your point.” He steps away from me to my grave relief. He relaxes against a wall, his eyes tracing me.

My lips dare to ask him what I really need to know. “I notice there are no tests to measure if a student can take a class outside the country or study abroad. I was wondering if that’s a major available to me, say I wanted to take it?”

“Your wants are irrelevant. We place you where we want. Which is where you need to be.”

“Do you agree with that?”

“Are… you… testing… me?” he says, like I’m so below him, I shouldn’t even be standing here, let alone challenging him.

“I am… um… intrigued by your common… convictions,” I stutter, trying to read him, to see if I can push a button that will cause him to open up or lash out and tell me the truth. But he does neither.

“Do you want another demerit?” He edges up on me.

My heart drops, but I stamp my feet down to stop myself from drawing back in fear as he speaks.

“No one knows about the study abroad, that is unless they know. So, if they know that you’re trying to know, you will never be in the know.”

He just said a scary sentence. I take a deep breath, confused, puzzled. But then I realize that he might have just opened up to me a little, so I push even further. It seems to me he is not challenged by my confrontation, so I go right in for his heart. “Do you have a family?”

“This conversation has expired.” He turns away and continues typing.

“If you had a family or a sister or a mom who you wanted so bad to find or know, but she was unavailable forever, would you try to know them or would you just keep living life without them?”

“Are you challenging me with an ethical question? Or a moral one?”

“A human one.”

“The only challenge you need to concentrate on is the Cognitive Test. Impress me there, and I’ll act like I actually listened to anything you just said.”

“How do I prepar⁠—”

“Enough! Depart before I blink.”

I catch my breath. Raise my chin. “Good day, Patron Pesh.”

I step outside the circular door, instantly worried.