Page 57 of The Commons

You’ve trained to be perfect all your life.

You were the valedictorian.

You’ve figured out deadly tests at The Commons.

You can pass the 10 by 10!

Yes, you can! Yes, you will!

I begin.

Ten minutes start to sprint past like ten seconds. Drops of sweat fall down my face. Rubbing my hands, I feel heat. I realize the chair I’m sitting on must have been altered. But. I can’t move. I’ll be disqualified.

Short of breath, I set my thoughts to the cold nights of New York, imagining my pencil to be ice, and the library, a freezing ocean. Sifting through stacks of paper paintings and snapshots of pictures in my mind, I continue to vomit chunks of information. My throat feels stuck, so I stick my fingers inside the tongue of my thoughts to cough up everything inside me. Coursing through my insides, I smack the stomach of my brain to burst out every drop of knowledge.

“Time’s up.”

My hands crash to the table before she can complete her sentence. Rubbing the back of my neck, my eyes follow the digital scantron as she takes it away.

My life is dependent upon these test results. Levon’s life is dependent upon these test results. No big deal.

Rubbing my hands against my forehead, my mind feels empty, like I can stick my hands through it to feel nothing. Trickles of triumph sweep through my thoughts and imagination. This could be it!

My feet feel so light. My heart can’t help but leap knowing that I released the ocean of information that I had poured into me for weeks. The evaporation of this release is now only but a faint memory fading into mist, sweetening my taste and moving my lips up in a subtle smile of satisfaction.

This test has taken everything from me. And in this moment, nothing feels better.

My legs leap up along with my heart, feet rushing to hide behind the back shelves, eyes scanning for a hidden spot. I can’t afford to reveal my emotions to anyone. Even just glimpses of satisfaction could serve to my detriment. Moreover, one more minute in that chair might have given me a heat stroke.

I find another chair, a blue iceberg-shaped one beside a green shelf of nature-like books. I adjust myself on the seat to get comfortable. That’s when I feel something on the side of my skirt. I slide my hands inside my pocket and look to see a note. Puzzled, I look around to see if anyone is around. I bend my head to feign sleep, hiding the note and opening it simultaneously. Meet me at the back of the O Library at our spot, Friday evening – P.

My heart rate escalates. Dang, why does he have this effect on me? This is really dangerous. He must have slipped the note into my pocket when he healed my wound just now. How did I not notice him touching me so close? Folding the note immediately, I put it back into my pocket. My mind races with too many thoughts. I wonder what this meeting is for?

Standing up, I walk toward the back of the library, pushing my feet forward against my beating heart, knowing I am completely unprepared for his alluring demeanor. I hear the winds in the trees and the rustling of the leaves. Crunch… Crunch… my feet step on the fallen leaves as I walk toward the green wall where I met him before.

I exhale, placing my hands on my chest to control its rising. I’m not sure which Pesh is going to show up today—the one who tells me about his late mother or the one who gives me a demerit and tells me to depart before he blinks. Gosh, why do I overthink everything.

The cold breeze surrounds me, but my hands are still warm. I look to the right at the sound of feet walking. I sense his figure close on my left. Vapors of his breath overwhelm my senses as his finger scrolls up from my neck to the edge of my ear. My body tingles in a sudden rush.

“How’s your wound?”

“What wound?” I smile, considering whatever he did has made it all disappear now.

A rapscallion smile flashes in his eyes. He wears a tailored black coat over a crisp white shirt, the collar slightly open just enough to soften the formality. A thin golden necklace rests against his toned chest, drawing my gaze to the entrancing lines of his throat. I gulp at the allure of his entire aura.

Unfortunately… he is unearthly beautiful. I have to stay focused, but my eyes drift to his golden necklace again. I’m not able to see what it says when he hides it.

I lift my gaze even higher to avoid his eyes. His hair is almost as dark as midnight, but streaked with sunlight. The sharp contrast flashing as he moves. And for some odd reason, I anticipate its movements… Every move of the sun flashing in the night. Craving… I compose myself. What is wrong with you, Shantavia?

His deep voice pulls me out of my thoughts. “Wasn’t sure if you’d come.”

“How could I ever avoid a challenge?” I whisper.

“Why’s this a challenge?” His eyes meet mine.

My eyes are enchanted by his powerful presence. “I’m with a Patron, alone. And you are letting me stare at you, again, which is against the law.”

He takes a moment, his golden gaze drifting over my shape, before looking away with a slight smile. Suddenly, he snaps out of the smile and turns back to me, his face so serious, I can feel his eyes pierce my soul.