Fallen (48 page)

At the end of lunch, I headed for
European History
, not averting but
also
not meeting the watchful stares of the rest of the student body. Judging from the number of eyes on m
e, everyone had heard, and they ha
d heard
I
caused it.

Achan was already in the room, sitting in his usual seat. I only had to
sneak
a
quick glance to know that he’d
been tol
d,
too.
His
sneer
was
unmistakably
visible and
clearly
unreserved
.
The rest of the students were talking about the explosion until Mr. Morow entered and went straight
into
his lecture. At the end of class, I moved swiftly through the crowded room
and headed for the gym, holding my head high while avoiding direct eye contact with everyone.

Once there,
I
readily changed clothes
and
took a seat
on the mat nearest the dressing room door, waiting for class to begin. As the other students
began to sit
on the open floor, the wide berth everyone gave me
wasn’t easily
ignored.

Sarai chose a spot in front of me, her typical routine. She was the only one who kept her eyes locked on me when I looked up,
not bothering to hide her scorn.

It didn’t take long for me to realize
it was expected
of me to
leave school grounds after being blamed f
or something of this magnitude. I flatly refused to
meet that expectation.
For one, I wanted to make sure the students injured were recovering well and the only way I could learn this was
by
staying at school
and
listening to
the
passing conversation
s
.
Another reason was because
running only makes you look guilty – which I was not. I had just as much right to be here as any of the other students. And then there was the fact that the last two times Eran had shown up was on school grounds. I knew he wouldn’t
reappear
again – unless my
life was
at risk –
but
school was the closest I could be to him right now
.
I missed him, and as irrational as it was, I felt closer to him at school than any other place.
And r
ight
now, I really needed him.

When I
got
home
,
Ezra was sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee. The moment she saw me, she stood, urgently
moved
toward
me
,
and
took my face in her hands,
inspecting
it.

“You’re not hurt,” she stated, though I knew this was a question.

“No.”

She
let out
a deep sigh of relief
and wrapped her arms around my shoulders.
I had never seen her so shaken before.

“Really, Ezra. I’m fine.”
I pulled away from her so she could see my sincerity.

She released me and went back to her chair, shaking her
head. “When Mr. Warden called-”

“He called you?” I asked,
allowing my alarm to be shown.
“He didn’t call when I was cut in fencing class so that must mean he still thinks I’m responsible for what happened today.”

Ezra stared at me, confused. “You were cut in fencing?”
I had never told her, not wanting her to worry.

“Yeah, a
while
ago…” I repl
ied,
pulling out a chair
at the table
and
avoiding her eyes
,
because I didn’t want to see the concern.

“
Were
you hurt?” Her voice was
thick
and
filled with emotion
.

“I was
fine
. It was no big deal
,” I said and to avoid talking about it
– because in reality the wound had left a small, thin scar along my torso -
I stood
back up
to grab a cola from the refrigerator.
Felix would be home soon to harangue me for it
,
but I didn’t care.
“So what did
The Warden
say?”

“He told me what happened
. And I told him that I would wait to hear your side of the story before making any judgments.”

“Thanks for that
,” I
told her with a smile. I
continued,
recount
ing
my perspective
but
keeping out the part about Eran’s involvement. No need to go
into
explain
ing
that whole thing.
I did, however, tell her that I thought I saw
Elam
, the new professor, pour liquid
down the drain just before the explosion
.

“Did you mention
Elam
’s actions to Mr. Warden?” Her concern
was clearly turning into
agitation
now.

“
I didn’t bother.
The Warden
believes
what he wants.”

She released an aggravated sigh, turning her head slightly away from me to
shoot a dark look out the kitchen window.

“The f
ool,” she muttered. I was shocked. I had never heard Ezra utter a single negative word against another person.

R
ufus and Felix
came through the kitchen door and
Ezra had me fill them in while she fixed dinner.

Rufus cursed The Warden in Gaelic while Felix paced the kitchen anxiously
only stopping when
Rufus
snapped
at him
.

I didn’t want a fight breaking out on my behalf
,
so I said, “I’m more concerned about the others in my class. Some of them looked like they had been seriously injured.”

Felix
was now sitting at the kitchen table, his right knee
twitched
at an incredible speed
.
He was staring
at me, attentively.
“So you believe this
Elam
fellow did it on purpose?”

Not wanting them to get any more involved than they were, I replied, “I can’t be sure.”

Rufus slammed his hand down on the table, startling everyone. “Stop shakin’ the bloody table,” he screamed at Felix.
Turning to me, he
growled, “I wan
na
pull his guts
out
through his nose…”

Though I appreciated the support, I immediately shook my head. “That’s not necessary.”

Ezra must have had the same sense I did
,
that Rufus wasn’t making a casual comment
,
because she said, “He’ll get what’s coming to him.”
I noticed the look she gave me and the meaning behind it: move on from the conversation. I agreed
,
so I stood and pulled a wooden
stirring spoon from the drawer
. Rufus and Felix took the bait without hesitation, both jumping up and vehemently disagreeing with my participation
in preparing
dinner. It was now a standard joke in the household that I couldn’t cook and their expressions reflected the panic I hoped my insinuated actions would
inspire
.

Felix
,
instead
,
l
e
d me by my shoulders to the china pantry, opened the door for me, and
motioned for me to do as I typically did. My boundaries in cooking were
still
limited to table setting and clean up.

Dinner was
quicker
than usual
,
and
I was glad that we
avoided dragging out the conversation on what happened at school,
instead
opting for making a decision on how to handle Christmas presents – the holiday being just two weeks away now. Instead of presents, we decided we’d celebrate with a reveillon menu, an old French holiday dining tradition. Given my inability to cook much of anything, I offered to buy and decorate
a holiday tree
which all of them
happily agreed
to
.

This put me in a good mood
, something I thought impossible after today at school. I even hummed a carol while I brushed my teeth
,
and I didn’t even think I knew any carols.

I was incredibly thankful for my three housemates, who were always there when I needed them and
who
allowed me to be there for them
when they needed it
.
With Eran’s disappearance still leaving a hole in my heart, I couldn’t have asked for better people to
be surrounded by
.

Then
I closed my door and turned off
the
lights
and e
verything changed.

The quiet
rekindled
the emptiness I felt at losing Eran
,
and my heart ached
because of
it.
I
rolled over and
watched the
French
doors from my
pillow
, remembering back to when Eran had come through them once before.

A
n idea
occurred to
me
.

Eran had known back then, had sensed, that I needed to talk with him.
I
f I tried just as hard now
…maybe he would
hear me again.

I concentrated on sending him an unspoken message, focusing
on this
effort
for over an hour.
I thought back
, remembering
the striking curves of his face, how he stood so confident,
and
the smirk he
commonly
displayed whenever
he thought
I
was hopelessly irrational
. The
entire time
I was
using my emotions to call out to him and bring him back to me.
In the end, t
he balcony door didn’t move once, not even an inch, and Eran never appeared.

I drifted to sleep
, barely noticing the tears that rolled down and dampened my pillow.

A few moments later
I woke up as I usua
lly did
,
in the Hall of Records.

Though,
I was immediately aware that the cold stone bench was not beneath me. I was being held.

W
arm, firm arms
were
wrapped around me, comforting me
.

“I heard you…I heard you…” Er
an whispered in my ear, his voice trembling.

I moaned
and sunk
into
his solid chest
, sobs releasing from me
and
my body
shaking
against his.

“I needed you,” I mumbled against his chest
, my breath
uneven
in my throat
.

When he didn’t respond
I lifted my head. His expression –
so immersed in pain and guilt –
did something I thought impossible. It cut an even
deeper
swath through
the void
in my chest,
left
in the aftermath of
his disappearance
.

“
I was here for you
, even when you couldn’t see me.” H
e
leaned in
, speaking
against my forehead
. “I was always here.”