forum A Thousand Cranes // Rated PG-15 // Eris

Started November 30, 2018 by @EternallyEris

tune

{It just makes us more excited for an update!}

Outside of the office, a class ends. I try not to cringe when I hear the crowds in the hallway, but I don't think Emmy misses it. The woman notices everything.

The talk moves on from future ambitions–I claim to have none yet, which makes both Emmy and Mr. Beck look at me for a long moment–to subjects, and Mr. Beck buzzes his secretary for a print of my schedule. The woman comes bustling into the office shortly after, all business, as she hands me a sheet of paper.

Emmy looks along as I hold the paper up so we can both see it.

English 3 AP

Government AP

Accelerated Calculus

Spanish 3

Biology AP

Band Studies - Violin

And Gym.

Gym.

Holy sweet Jesus. Crap. I knew this would happen, but to see the word on the schedule makes my throat constrict.

Not now, Cassia. Not now. Deal with it when it comes.

Around me, the meeting draws to a close. The atmosphere in the room shifts and as Mr. Beck clears his throat, Emmy turns to me. "Do you have any questions?"

I shake my head. I'll be fine, once the novelty wears off. I'm more afraid about the other students than about the teachers, really. Mr. Beck has promised to notify all the teachers of the fact I don't speak, so that might be a nice head start. It will be less weird if they find out while I am already in their class.

That happened in Los Angeles. It wasn't pretty.

In the school, the bell rings. The break between classes has ended.

"Alrighty. Listen, Cassia, I need to discuss some other things with your foster mother," The principal says. "Here's a thought. Why don't you go to a class in the meantime? Give it a whirl and see how you do. If you feel comfortable–great! We will see you tomorrow. If not—no worries, we will make something work, okay? I'll give you a note for the teacher."

Apart from the alarm I feel, not knowing what they are going to discuss about me, I realize this is a test. Mr. Beck is confident that I can handle this, but he’s letting me test it out. Just in case. I sigh softly, I appreciate the gesture.

I'm pretty sure I will be able to manage one period. I could assess the other students, see how the teacher is. If it's bad, it will be over soon. If it's good, it will be easier tomorrow, just like he said.

I'm worried about what Emmy and the principal will discuss. I wouldn't know how to ask that. So, I nod, and we all stand.

Mr. Beck hands me the note, but I can't accept it from him. I completely blank, unsure how to fix this. Emmy doesn't blink twice as she accepts the note from the principal and hands it over to me. Mr. Beck looks confused for a moment, but then his expression clears. I suppose something in my file just made a lot more sense to him.

I sigh again.

Emmy follows me as I walk to the door. I'm so, so hot in my winter coat, but I still don't dare to take it off. The woman behind the desk looks up as I exit the office, smiling briefly before she looks back at her ancient computer screen again.

"Miss Lee?" Mr. Beck asks from his office doorway, to the younger looking office assistant. "Would you please guide Cassia to her class?"

Miss Lee stands immediately and introduces herself, then guides me out of the office. "Cassia, right? Come, let's go. Did I remember right you have Biology now?" Her voice is warm and I'm immediately more at ease around her than I was around the principal.

I nod numbly before halting in the doorway and turn to Emmy, unsure.

"Go," She smiles. "Come meet me in the parking lot after?" Her eyes are so kind, and a warm feeling washes over me as I remember holding her hand. All this trouble, and just for me. Perhaps she will talk about Iona and Declan with him. It's not that far-fetched. Not everything is about me. I do realize that.

I gave Emmy an awkward wave and turn to follow Miss Lee through the empty hallways. She chats away while she shows me around on the go. "Don't worry bun, I think you'll be just fine here. I saw your grades when I was processing your file from your previous school, and you can be proud of yourself! If you ever have any questions, just come and find me, okay?"

We arrive at the classroom and she halts outside the door. "Can you do it alone from here?"

I swallow thickly and nod.

I can do this, I will have to.

Miss Lee beams at me and then, mercifully, she turns and leaves. Her heels tap curtly on the linoleum floor. I wait until she rounds a corner, then take a deep breath. What chance do I have that there is a James sibling in this class? Do I want one of them to be here? Or don't I?

I do. For sure.

I scramble to remember who else does Biology in the house, but my mind is completely blank. No use trying to get myself to thinking about such things right now.

Steeling my resolve, I open the door.

Twenty sets of eyes fly to me. It takes everything I have to not step back and run for dear life. Instead, I step forward and look around the classroom quickly. High lab tables, three rows wide, seven rows deep. Windows all along the far side of the room. It’s very bright in here. I squint a little as I continue walking up to the desk situated in the front corner of the room.

My eyes fall on the teacher and he takes me in. "Can I help you?"

I swallow thickly once more. My throat is suddenly very dry. Clenching my free hand into a fist, nails digging into my skin, the pain a comfortable anchor to reality, I place the note from Mr. Beck before him. Looking at a fixed spot on his desk, I wait while he reads. The memo contains a basic introduction; new student, my name, my lack of voice. No books for now.

The teacher is obviously beyond confused and I mentally curse. Of course, this would all go downhill before I even have a chance.

"Cassia, right?"

I nod, once.

"Very well," He says. "Welcome to my class. I'm Mr. Banner. There are a few empty seats left, so take a pick."

He doesn't mention my muteness. He doesn't ask if I don't speak. He doesn't ask me to introduce myself in front of the class. He's either very considerate or he simply didn't read the note carefully.

But I need to find a seat. I've been holding up this class long enough already. Turning in the deafening silence, I try to ignore the eyes on me as I look over the tables.

The first empty place I spot is next to a guy with blue eyes and blond hair. He's curious, but the look on his face makes me shudder. I know that look. It's an appreciative look. When I meet his gaze, I have the feeling he knows who I am, but how would he know? Swallowing, I push my vision through the white noise of my half-closed mind, towards the back of the class.

There sits Declan. Beaming.

Unfortunately, he’s not alone at his table. Damn. I frown.

As I meet his gaze, he simply, calmly, kicks the chair of his partner so hard that the unsuspecting boy slides across the row and into the empty spot I was just eyeing. A ‘Oh, come on dude!’ can be heard even in the front of the room from the jilted partner, but Declan doesn’t seem to care as he stands, voice clear. “She can sit next to me, Mr. Banner.”

Declan’s slight nod is almost imperceptible, but I see it. He's inviting me. When I take a hesitating step forward, he smiles wider, his eyes crinkling and one corner of his mouth turning upwards. Charming.

He doesn't mind if I join him.

Looking at the creepy blond guy in the front once again, I make up my mind.

I walk to the back of the class and slide into the chair next to Declan.

I'm tense, barely breathing. Already, seemingly at my limit for social interactions. Mr. Banner resumes his lesson like nothing has happened. At least ten sets of eyes are still on me though, having followed me on my trip towards the back of the class.

After a few endless minutes, Mr. Banner finally calls for attention and several heads whip forward again. The blond guy is last to turn.

I don't like him. Not at all.

Exhaling, I struggle to process it all, wringing my hands underneath the table. It feels a lot better to be out of everyone’s line of sight. Carefully, I sigh, forcing out all my anxiety.

Then, finally, I glance to my right, just as Declan turns to look at me.

"Hi." He whispers, and his smile is as wide as I've ever seen it.

Surprised by his kind look I blink, stunned.

He chuckles soundlessly. "What, can't I say hi?"

I shake my head, then nod, then frown, as I don't know how to explain that of course he can say hi. He laughs at that, making sound this time, and of course some people turn to see what is happening. Mr. Banner glances over at us but doesn't stop talking. Suddenly shy again, I hunch in my seat and look down at the table until all faces are looking forward again.

Declan rearranges his books so I can see what bit of theory Mr. Banner is talking about. I've already done this back in Los Angeles, I realize. Thank god this first attempt at school work will be a breeze at least.

"You good?" Declan then asks.

I nod slowly, looking at him from the corner of my eye.

"Good." He says. He's so relaxed, and again he strikes me as disarming. A month ago, he scared me out of my wits, but we've come so far since then. He's never been nasty with me. He doesn't act differently around me while obviously he knows much more about me than I originally thought.

He carried me.

I remember hearing his heartbeat.

I made me tea and sat out in the cold with me.

I shake my head a little to rid myself of all these memories. There are more important things to focus on. Being in a classroom full of people, for instance. Yes, Biology. I try my best to listen to the teacher as he talks about the lab, we are doing this lesson.

As if on a cue I must have missed, from every table one student gets up to get a microscope from the closet in the back of the room.

I look up for a short moment, wide eyed in shock, then focus on the table top again. They will all have to walk by me to get their supplies. Of course. Please don't notice me. Please don't talk to me. Please.

"Be right back. Don’t go anywhere alright?" Declan announces, and then he's up too, striding to the closet. Using his long legs, he gets there much faster than anyone else.

I remain sitting, my gaze locked on the table, trying to ignore the discord around me. People are looking, lingering around the table, I can feel their eyes on me. Of course, they would be curious. I clench my teeth and try to swallow some tension away.

"Back.” Declan says as he plants the microscope on the table.

My eyes go wide as I take it in. It's impressive, shiny and new. Immediately, I reach out and take it from him, placing it on the desk and beginning to mess with the knob settings. Holy crap, this is so cool. If I only had samples to look at…

Declan chuckles. "Guess they had shittier equipment in Los Angeles?"

I nod, suddenly sheepish. Science is one of my favorite subjects, I couldn’t help my excitement. He doesn’t seem to mind though as he repositions himself into a comfier position his chair. “Honestly? I don’t blame you, Cass. This class gets pretty neat. Just promise you’ll share? Gotta let me have some fun too.” He chuckles again, eyes bright and warm. I relax a bit, he’s joking with me on purpose, to put me at ease.

Mr. Banner walks around the class with a tray and places specimens and a form on every table. When he reaches us, he smiles gently at me. "Just try to see what you can do, okay? I'm sure Declan here will help you out."

"Will do, Mr. Banner." Declan replies, looking a bit more serious. As Mr. Banner leaves, Declan’s smile returns.

"What was on that note?" He asks, incredulous. “Banner is never that nice to anyone.”

Following his train of thought easily, I can't help my own smile and shake my head. I don’t really know how to explain it to him without my usual forms of communication. It’s not like I can whip my phone out in class, I honestly can’t remember if I brought it with me. Just as I’m about to leave it at my vague answer, Declan slides a piece of paper towards me and a pen, a hopeful look on his face. “I’m having Auntie teach me ASL, but—uh—I’m not very good. Will this help?”

With shaking hands, realizing full well this is the first time I am ever communicating with him in this way, I take the pen and write exactly what was on the note:

Cassia Sinclair. New student. Doesn't speak. No books for now. Memo follows.

Declan reads and scratches his head. "Jesus. Even you use more words when you communicate."

I breathe out a laugh at his comment and his face lights up as he smiles in return.

"Right—Let's get this lab going. Do you know what we're supposed to do?"

I nod. I've done this lab before, but I tap the directions at the top of the form. I’ve already read them, but Declan leans forward a bit to read over it. We’re just supposed to identify what chemical was used on the sample based on their appearance in the slide.

Easy, peasy.

"Cool, cool. Ehm, ladies first?" Declan slides the prepared microscope towards me and watches as I adjust the lens. Without much effort, I identify the contents of the slide. Reaching for the form, I write down the correct chemical.

Declan’s eyebrows raise, but he doesn’t doubt me as he pulls the microscope towards him and looks briefly before he nods. In my mind, I laugh out loud. He knows his stuff too. When I see him smirk at me from the corner of his eye, I am pretty sure he is thinking the same. He moves onto the next slide with ease.

"How are things working out here?" Mr. Banner asks as he approaches our desk.

"Pretty good. Maybe give us something that explodes next time, yeah?" Declan jokes.

I realize now Declan has not in any way made clear that he knows me. Why not? Would he be too embarrassed to do so? These thoughts flit through me in less than a second, and the teacher's voice continues, unaware of my thoughts, interrupting them. My hands find their back into my lap in a tight grip.
"Maybe next time, Dec. Cassia, mind if I ask you some questions?"

I shake my head, but I can feel the muscles in my back tense up. Still, the man has an easy demeanor. He's pretty young, and he doesn't come across as your stereotypical teacher. I like him better than the assistant principal, that's for sure.

"Forgive me for asking, but the note said that you don't speak?" Mr. Banner scratches his head, looking a bit confused, as if he didn’t really believe the note.

I nod. I expected this question to come first.

"How do you communicate? Sign language?"

I nod and bring up my hands to show that I do a little ASL, but then shake my head as I tap the desk, hoping he'll realize that I mean that I don’t use it as school.

Beside me, Declan changes the glass under the microscope again, but I can tell he's listening in.

"Oh, I see. ASL not at school. You just nod or shake your head?"

I nod again, glad he seems to be catching on.

"Very well. Ehm, are you getting along with your lab partner here?"

Declan finally speaks. "Mr. Banner, I know Cassia already. She lives with my family as a foster child. She's been with us for about a month now."

Oh, so he does acknowledge me. Why this is such a relief to me, I can't really grasp.

Mr. Banner's face lights up in understanding. Around him, I can see how most students have stopped working on their lab assignment and are looking at us now. "No wonder you seem to work together so comfortably. Such luck for you Cassia, to have Declan here to assist you in class. He's one of my brightest students."

"I'm pretty sure she outdoes me. By a long shot." Declan mumbles, and my head whips around to look at him.

Did he really just say that?

Mr. Banner seems to have heard, because he laughs. "Afraid of a little competition?"

Declan chuckles and slides the microscope towards me again. "Not at all. At least I finally got someone to help me explain calculus to Iona."

Their easy conversation baffles me, and if I'm not mistaken this is the second time in under a minute that Declan paid me a compliment. I can’t help it as I openly stare at him, wondering how in the hell I’m supposed to figure him out.

Mr. Banner throws his head back to laugh. Apparently, Iona’s struggles with calculus are well known in this school.

More eyes on us, now. I frown and duck my head, suppressing the urge to high tail it out of here. Instead, I take a deep breath and look into the newly prepared microscope, my nerves exploding as I focus on the lens and leave myself unguarded for a moment. Only a moment.

Glancing at the form I see that Declan is still holding it hostage as he chats with our teacher. Somehow, I know his attention is fully on me though. So, I raise three fingers and reach over to tap the correct term on the page twice. Declan writes down the right term on the line where it belongs. He doesn't ask to slyly check on my answer this time. It's the easiness of this exchange that nearly undoes me. It's odd to have someone understand my silence.

Mr. Banner smiles widely. "So that's how you communicate. Listen, Cassia, I need to pay my other students some attention too, but just to be sure, you'll be in my class from now on?"

I nod, deciding in that moment that yes, I will do everything I can to be able to go to school here. Already it feels incredible to be doing work again. Looks and whispers be damned.

"Very well. First of all, welcome, of course, and second, let's try to meet up after your classes sometime next week, so I can work out with you where you were in your classes at your old school, and perhaps get to know you better. I’d like to find a way to communicate efficiently as well."

I blink, then find myself able to nod. Every hair follicle on my body rises in high alarm and I can feel the blood draining away from my face.

Mr. Banner nods, smiling, and turns away to tend to his other students.

He wants to see me after class.

My breathing becomes shallow and I grip my hands in my lap, feeling my knuckles whiting. The muscles in my hand protest. Deep down, I know there's no reason to panic. Rationally, I know he really just wants to talk with me. As all my teachers might. But my traitor mind spits venom in my ears, wondering what will happen next week when Mr. Banner has me alone.

He’s not like William.

He can’t be.

"Are you all right?" Declan’s voice is soft, worried.

I can't say yes, and I can't say no. Instead, I try to prevent my breathing to turn into hyperventilation. I can practically hear Declan thinking beside me. "Cassia? Don't panic. Nothing happened, right?"

I actually manage to make myself nod, but my muscles are stiff. God, stupid brain, just shut up for a minute. I know nothing happened. I’m okay. It’s almost as if the absence of anxiety is making me anxious.

"Oh shit–don't panic, Cass. I really wish I could put an arm around you right now. Honestly, there's nothing to worry about. You’re safe. I’m right here with you.”

Still breathing erratically, I turn my head to look at him with wide, pleading eyes.

Please don't leave.

Not understanding me, a hand goes to his hair, grasping it. "I don't know what to do." He says softly, honestly.

Around us, the students are still focused on their lab. My strained breathing is covered by the noise in the class. Come on, Cassia, pull it together.

God—If only I could be normal.

"Is there anything I can do?"

I shake my head. There’s nothing—there’s always nothing. This is all my own damn, stupid fault. Why am I so useless? I can’t even sit in a classroom for twenty damn minutes without losing my head. Emmy would be so disappointed in me—

Emmy.

A thought occurs to me, like a slice of lighting through my thoughts. A way out. Remembering how warm and comforted I had felt after reaching out to Emmy in a panic, I hesitantly reach out to Declan.

He doesn’t notice, looking up and around the room, features tight with stress, until my fingers gently hook around his clenched hand on his leg. Declan jumps at the contact, looking down at me with surprise. I meet his gaze, resting my hand against his. Immediately, he moves himself closer and opens his palm.

It’s a damn relief to wrap my hand around his.

I’m only holding his last two fingers, but his skin is warm. I place my head on the table, wrapping my free arm around it. Forcing myself to breathe slowly though my nose. Calm down, Cassia. My thoughts slow, and the venom my mind was spitting at me halts in its tracks. Grounding. That is what it is to hold onto him. I was drowning in my own thoughts, and Declan is that stray ray of light to guide me out. His thumb gently caresses my hand, so gently I barely feel it. But I do. Another reassurance perhaps? The tight muscles of my back relax further.

Inhale.

Exhale.

I’m okay. I’m safe. I’m not alone.

Declan is here.

It takes me a few long minutes, but finally I calm down again a bit. I peak up over my arm at Declan, surprised to find that he was already looking at me.

“Better?" He asks softly. He's finished the lab while I was too busy panicking. The sheet sits between us along with the neatly packed up microscope and slides.

Shit, I should have done my part. Ugh, I’ve messed up.

But I nod, to answer his question.

"Okay. Well done, by the way. Must have been a battle to calm down like you did. You really are a trooper, Cass."

Yeah well, it would be better if I didn't panic in the first place, no?

I sigh and frown, upset with myself.

"Hey, just so you know, I didn't call out to you when you came in because I didn't want to startle you. But when Mr. Banner came, I really thought he should know you live with us. I hope you don't mind?" Another thumb caress almost distracts me from his words. Christ that feels wonderful.

I pull away from my arm and shake my head. Of course not. Did he really not say anything because he thought I would mind? That's the world upside down, isn't it?

"Anyway, ehm, I finished the lab." I want to make clear I'm sorry, but he shrugs it off. "Don't worry. Next time, you can help me out."

He smiles gently, and I feel the tight ball of nerves in my stomach uncoil a little again. Belatedly, I realize that I’m still holding his hand.

Christ—what have I done??

A blush sizzles up my body until I know that my entire face is bright red. Why did he let me do that? Why did I do that in the first place? Oh my god. I stare down at our join fingers. Oh my god. Why? Panicky Cassia is such an idiot.

Yeah. That’s my conclusion.

I release his hand, but Declan tightens his grip at the last moment. I look up in surprise. He’s looking at me with an expression I can’t quite figure out. Those icy blues, are soft, so soft as he opens his mouth–

Mr. Banner announces the end of class, and I can finally exhale fully, yanking my gaze from Declan’s and pulling my hand fully from his. Around me, students get up like they're bitten and hand in their forms at the teacher's desk as others clear away the microscopes. During the commotion, the bell rings and the first students walk out the door immediately.

Declan remains seated beside me and calmly waits for me to get my mental insanity together. Am I still blushing? Oh yeah, I’m still blushing. My cheeks feel like fire.

"You okay?" He asks, completely unaware of the direction of my thoughts.

I nod slowly, realizing the class is empty but for the two of us and Mr. Banner, who is sorting the classwork forms into a stack. He's not looking at us, but I know he's paying attention.

"I have to go to German, but I can skip if you want me to stay with you?" Declan continues softly.

The worry and concern in his voice are palpable and they touch something deep inside me. I shake my head though. I don't want him to miss classes because of me. It wouldn't be the first time, even. I don't want that on my conscience. What would Emmy think, or do, if she found out?

"Are you sure?" He’s giving me that look again. The warm one. I have to look away.

I nod, my heart hammering. What the hell is wrong with me?

"Okay. I'll hand in the lab results. He won't know I did most of it. Besides, I’m sure you could have finished it without my help anyway. Are you going to your next class now?" Declan stands, putting his notebooks and items into a nice pile.

I shake my head, and the relief of Declan telling me he won't tell the teacher of my lack of work does not go unnoticed by me. I have to ask him while he's still willing to stand up for me. It's incredibly dangerous to ask for favors, I know, and I will perhaps pay for it for a long time, but this is so important to me that I have to try.

Underneath the note I wrote Declan earlier, I write something else.

Please don't tell Emmy I panicked.

Declan reads and his brows furrow in confusion. "You don't want Auntie to know?"

I nod, hoping he will understand, thinking furiously of ways in which I can repay him.

"All right," He says finally, still unsure. "I don't think it's that big of a deal. But I do think you should tell her, though."

I shrug, unsure. I want them to think that I am strong. I know I can do this. All I ask is that they give me the chance I’m asking for.

"Declan, Cassia, I think it's time for you to go to your next class." Mr. Banner says not unkindly from the front.

Nodding, Declan gathers his books and I slide out of my chair, only now noticing I never took off my coat. My back is slick with sweat after what happened, and it doesn't feel very comfortable.

Declan goes to hand in the form as I pick up the microscope to put it back in the closet in the back of the class. I can hear him speaking softly with Mr. Banner, but can't make out the words as I'm half hidden behind the closet door.

"Oh, thanks," He says when I emerge from the closet again. "So, are you going home now?"

I nod.

"Auntie picking you up?"

Another nod. I can’t seem to make eye contact with him again. The way he stares at me, it’s obvious he wants me to look up.

"Okay. Do you think you can find the exit from here?" Why does he sound so concerned?

I nod again. There are signs everywhere in this tiny, tiny school. There's very little chance I will get lost.

Declan smiles down at me, but his eyes are sad. "Come on then." He says and he holds out his arm in an inviting gesture as he turns towards the door.

I walk after him, out of the room. Declan walks with me until the first corner in the hallway. He guides me gently, a hand at my back, but not quite touching me.

"You good now?"

I nod. I didn't want to panic. I hope I didn't annoy him with it. Oh crap, why do I only realize this now?

I held his hand for godssake! The memory slaps me in the face and I can’t help but look up at him again.

Declan smiles. “There you are.”

Crap. Crap. Crap.

The bell rings over our heads making the both of us jump half way out of our skins. "Okay. Shit, I really have to go. Talk to you later? You're home tonight, right?"

I nod, confused by his question. I mean, where would I go?

"All right. See you later, Cass!" Declan reaches out and taps me gently on the nose. Then he’s gone, rounding the corner and leaves me standing in the deserted hallway, utterly blown away by his easy kindness.

I am so confused.

Emmy greets me with a big smile when I approach the car in the parking lot. She leans over to open the door for me, and I slip into the back seat, pulling the door shut.

"Hi," she beams over her shoulder. "How did it go?"

I look at her, at the expectant look on her face, and I nod with a small smile, to let her know it was okay.

Of course, she doesn't buy it. "Are you sure?"

I nod again, but somehow a lump catches in my throat and I have to swallow.

"Let's talk about this later." Emmy smiles reassuringly as she starts the car and drives us home.

I'm chewing my lip, frowning, thinking. Somehow, Declan got stuck in my head and now he won't get out again. Why is he so nice to me? What does he expect, what's in it for him? What does he want from me?

My breath catches and my heart skips a beat before it starts crashing out of my chest.

Oh, God, what does he want from me?

There's no such thing as altruism. Peter showed me that. William to. It was always the worst when they were nice. But—but Declan can’t be like that. That I’m sure of.

I think.

Ugh.

I can feel my frown deepen as I turn away from Emmy, making as if I'm looking out of the window but in reality, hiding my face from her gaze through the rear view mirror.

I have to fix this. Even though the notion of Declan being like Peter or William sounds surreal to me, I have to fix this. Work it out, confront him. He has been so nice to me and I can't deny that I have been basking in it. But if he expects something in return, I better find out soon.

Just in case I need to protect myself—run–again.

My mind stutters on the thought, shying away so forcefully that I’m launched out of my reverie. I’m still gazing out of the window and I barely register what I'm seeing but it seems as if fall has started overnight. It's the end of October. Everything that was once green is now varying shades of orange and red. It’s so beautiful. Thankfully, it’s also distracting.

Emmy stays quiet until we arrive home. Then she announces she'll make tea so we can talk about the day. I have to focus. I will have to deal with Declan later. I want to go to school and as such I cannot mess this tiny evaluation up.

I slip into the downstairs bathroom to splash some water in my face and to try and ease the sickening nerves that have settled in my stomach.

Focus, Cassia!

I walk back to the kitchen, to find it empty.

"In here, honey!" Emmy calls and I go to the living room. She is sitting on the couch, two mugs of tea and a plate with some cookies on the coffee table.
"Have a seat." She says gently. I do as I'm told and sit down in the winged chair I've used so often here now. "So, how was it? Really?"

I nod to let her know it was good. She doesn't need to know about the near panic attack. It's bound to happen more often, and I can deal with them. Honestly, I'm used to take care of myself.

"Something is bothering you." Emmy then states. It's not even a question.

I frown and chew on my lower lip again. She's too damn observant. A sigh escapes me before I can stop myself.

"Is it something that happened in school?"

I shake my head, impatient.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I shake my head again. Tightening my hands into fists within my sweater sleeves. I can’t tell her. I want Emmy to think that I can handle this more than anyone else. I need to show her that I am capable.

She thinks I am strong, so why can’t I be?

"Very well," She concedes after a moment of silence. "Let's talk about school then. I wanted you to know that I felt I needed to tell Mr. Beck and Mr. Greene some more about you."

I sit a bit straighter, immediately on guard.

"Don't be alarmed. The only things I told him were that you don't like to be touched and that you suffer from panic attacks. I alluded as to why but did not go into any detail."

I look at Emmy, disbelieving. How dare she tell these things about me… She promised me.

“Let me explain.” Emmy says firmly. “I know you don't like this Cassia, but you have to understand that at least the teachers need to know how you react to being touched, and what they need to do when you have a panic attack."

I almost tell her the truth. Almost. Instead, I can feel the angry set on my face, eyes wide, lips pressed into a tight line, body rigid. I can't believe this. There is a pain in my chest I am not familiar with. It’s sharp and awful, somehow triggering my eyes to form tears. I swallow them firmly.

"I did this because I care about you, Cassia. I told Mr. Greene and Mr. Beck that they will probably never need the information, but I thought they needed to know. I don't want you to be startled because somebody oversteps your boundaries, unknowing."

I'm too angry to really hear her words. She told me she would not talk about me with the principals after I had left. She promised.

"I told them that the school can call me if anything happens. Please listen to me Cassia. I understand you are upset and maybe I should have discussed this with you beforehand. But I would have spoken to the principal about this anyway and I didn't want to do it with you present, because I knew how uneasy it would make you feel."

Betrayal.

That’s what this is. I feel betrayed. Emmy broke a promise to me and now I’m scrambling to figure out how to process this. The harsh feeling doesn’t quite meet up with the pain in my chest, but I will ignore that for now. I just glare at her. Deep down, I am amazed I even dare to do so.

She promised and she broke it.

Did she really think it would be any less uneasy for me to hear about this after it happened?

I stand up, no longer caring that I'm unreasonably angry. All the stress of the day is wearing out on me and I have too much to think about, too much to work out and too much to arrange in my mind before I can even start school after the weekend.

Emmy looks at me, but she doesn't tell me to sit down. "Please think about my words. We want to do what's best for you, and that will sometimes be things you don't agree with."

That does it. Her words sting too harshly, too deeply. Again, what's best for me. No one trusts that I know what’s best for me. Not a single person.
I am very much done with this conversation. No longer caring about the consequences, I stalk away, up the stairs and to my room. I’m still too scared to slam the door but I do lock it behind me with a scowl. I grab Jackie’s quilt and let myself fall into the rocking chair, which sways precariously under my weight.

I pull the quilt over my head and sit in the dark. Tears come before I can stop them, and I curse myself for my weakness. I can't hide it from myself anymore. I know it's no use.

Deep down, I know she is right.

I just hate to be cared for like that. It's such a foreign concept to me and I'm not used to it. I don't like how they decide things for me behind my back, because it's best for me. Just let me mind my own business. Let me decide what I do, let me see how the dice roll. Let me handle what comes my way.

It always went like that.

But here, all is different. They take things out of my hands. They do things behind my back. Hell, they all but force me to buy expensive clothes, and they want to know how badly I'm hurt when I burn myself, which was my own fault to begin with. I don’t understand any of this. I’m trying to keep my head while the world whirls around me. I don't understand a world in which you don't have to pay back for the things you get. I don't know a world where actions don't have consequences, and mistakes are met with patience instead of retribution.

Still, I know Emmy won't even be mad at me right now. She’s probably proud that I stormed off. Probably won't even come after me. No, she will wait until I am calm and then she will try to talk about this with me again until we come to an understanding.

I honestly thought mother figures like she only existed in movies. The kind of movies I tend to avoid because they simply don't make sense.

Sighing deeply, I become more and more angry with myself for my overreaction. I have to apologize to Emmy. Then again, I also want her to know I want to be involved in what she tells others about me, even though I do realize she is my guardian and is allowed by law to care for me in the way she feels is best. So far, I only have gotten the best. Because honestly? I do realize that I should thank whatever God on my bare knees that I was placed here, and not someplace else where history would have repeated itself on me again. Even though I know I probably deserve it.

Gah, I have to stop this thinking loop.

Below, I hear the James siblings entering the house. Shortly after, a car exits the garage again. I stand up to look out of my window and I see Nick’s car driving away. I can't see how many people there are in the car. It occurs to me how nice it would be to have a car, to be able to drive. To leave the house at leisure. God, what a sense of freedom that would be.

But, being at school for six hours a day is a nice place to start. However, Declan will be next to me in Biology every day. Unless I switch seats and go sit with the creepy blond guy.

Oh, for godssake, I'll just have to fix this, and quickly so. I'll confront him this weekend. Ask him what his game is. My throat constricts when I think of what would happen if he showed a side I haven't seen before. If my evil mind is right and he wants something from me.

Of course not, my rationale whispers faintly, carefully. He just wants to be nice to you. People can be like that, you know.

But not to me. Why ever would anyone be nice to me?

There's the thinking loop again. I shake my head to get rid of it and with a deep sigh, I steel myself to go down and see if I can help for dinner.

Emmy doesn't mention the earlier incident when I enter the kitchen, apprehensive. She's cooking, sizzling sounds filling the space, accompanied by the most delicious scents.

I set the table for four and then glance at the pans to see how long until dinner.

"Fifteen minutes," Emmy says, interpreting me correctly as usual. "Are you calm again?"

I look up at her, caught. Then I lower my eyes and nod. I'm embarrassed.

"You had every right to be upset, but I hope you will understand why I did what I did."

However deeply unhappy this makes me, I have to nod to affirm her words.

"Listen, Cassia," Emmy says as she focuses on stirring some sauce, "I know you don't feel like you need any special care. And in this family, perhaps you don't. But you come with certain ground rules and I felt the school needed to know them. In the end, it will benefit you." She finally looks up to meet my gaze. "I think you realize that, too."

I nod, flushing bright red under her gaze even though she's not judging. She's merely telling the truth. I should come with a user manual.

"Good. What I did not get to discuss with you earlier is that there is an individual education plan for you. You must know this from Los Angeles already. It mainly means more written assignments for you."

I nod, to let her know I understand. It's nothing new. I will probably not even notice much of it, except that I won't be called for a turn in class. This relieves me immensely. Perhaps it's a good thing Emmy has taken care of me in this way after all.

Damn I was such a little shit for storming off. I rub my eyebrow, exasperated with myself.

"Will you have dinner with us, or rather in your room?"

I barely suppress a sigh at this ever-repeating question. Even if I wanted to try to stay here to eat, I know it wouldn't work and I'm not even sure how I could ever ask for it to begin with. I didn't set the table for enough people, even.

Besides, I don't think I want to.

Okay, that’s a lie.

As such I eat up in my room once again.

After dinner, I bring my tray down as usual. The ground floor of the house is deserted, which is unusual for a Friday night I should think. I think I heard Nick go into his study earlier, but I have no clue where the rest are.

Ah, well. I guess when they're not here, they can't want anything from me, either. I clear away my stuff and go back upstairs, planning to read some or watch TV in my room. Perhaps reply to Jackie’s email. Enjoy the quiet.

Iona slides up to me just when I reach the top step. "Hello there!" She beams.

I look at her, skeptically. She so looks like she wants something from me.

"Want to come into my room for a bit? I'm going to this Halloween party tomorrow and I want to show you my costume."

Halloween?

Already?

Good lord have I been that far gone from outside reality that it’s already Halloween?

Apparently.

I follow Iona to her room, leaving the door open behind me. Soft music is playing, but I hardly register it as I take in the rest of her room. It looks like a bomb exploded in here. Clothes and accessories are everywhere — on the bed, her desk, her chair, her couch… Even on the floor.

Her vanity is cluttered with make-up and all sorts of hair styling equipment.

I take in her room and can't hide my shock.

Iona giggles, looking a bit embarrassed. "Yeah, it looks like a tornado came through here, I know. Auntie hates it when I do this." I meet her gaze and she laughs again, dimples appearing in her cheeks as she does so.

Hey, Emmy has those, too.

"Anyway," She announces with a grand gesture towards the mannequin in the corner of her room. "Ta-daa!"

On the doll is a silvery, short dress, draped elegantly to show off curves I would assume. The fabric is not plain cotton, I notice as I look closer. There's a light shimmer on it when it catches the light and as such the outfit has almost a glamorous appearance.

"Do you like it?" Iona asks. “I thought I’d give ‘War Goddess’ an upgrade and an Iona flare.”

I turn my head to look at her and see her hopeful face. I never cared much for Halloween, but I can totally imagine Iona in the dress. I nod my head to answer her question.

"I've these earrings to go with it," She says and she holds up her open hand in which a pair of long, thin, swords rest. It's subtle and I nod appreciatively. "This chain goes around my waist with a sword, obviously." Iona points at the silver colored accessory on the bed. It looks quite heavy, but I guess that's the point.

"And those are my boots."

I breathe out a laugh when I see the boots Iona is talking about. They're deep bronze, with three-inch high spiked heels. The boots must reach to below the knee, with laces and hooks all the way to the top.

"You like?" She asks hopefully, again.

I nod once more. Smiling a bit. Costumes are not my forte, but this seems pretty neat by my standards.

"Good! I went as a cat last year, but that stuff gets old pretty quickly. I wanted to do something a little more… unexpected."

Well, I think she'll succeed by going as a Goddess all right. I mean, she already looks like one.

Iona pushes some clothes away on her couch and invites me to sit as she sinks down on her bed. "Didn't you go to school today?"

Her question surprises me but I nod nevertheless.

"How did it go? Dec told me you were in his Biology class."

Nerves explode in my stomach at the mention of his name and I am once more consumed by the urgent matter of finding out what he wants from me. I think I shrug in response to her question, but I can’t be sure.

Iona looks at me searchingly but doesn't ask. Instead, she speaks. "He said he really liked to see you in school, and he told me you handled it well?"

Her words form into a question, but she doesn't elaborate and I'm not going to volunteer any information about that class. I look down at my hands. Did he tell her about my panic attack? That I held his hand? I hope not.

"So, did you like it? I mean, did you like going to school? Do you think you can do it?" Iona leans forward, parking her elbows on her comforter as she asks me. She looks happy and like there is a more important subject she would like to get to.

I wonder want it is.

I nod to answer all her questions.

"That's… Well to me it's weird to hear but I'm happy that you want to go. School is—blegh. But if you like it, then I’m sure you will find a way to kick ass."
A soundless laugh escapes me. ‘Kick ass’, hmm?

Silence falls and stretches and finally Iona gets up to change the music to something with a more pronounced beat. Suddenly, she turns to me. "Did you want to come with us? To the Halloween party tomorrow?"

My eyes go wide. No, I don't. Absolutely not. I’m shaking my head before she finishes her question.

"Because we can arrange a costume for you and of course you would be more than welcome to…" Taking in the look on my face, she lets her words trail off. "No?"

I shake my head. That’s a firm no.

"Too crowded for you?"

I nod, deciding this reason is as good as any.

"So, ehm, you won't feel excluded when we all go tomorrow?" Iona shifts on her feet, uncomfortable. She won’t meet my gaze.

Is that what she is worried about? I shake my head slowly. The pang of sadness I feel has nothing to do with feeling excluded, but with the disappointment I feel with myself for not being able to participate.

I've never wanted to be part of such things.

Then why does it bother me all of a sudden?

I bite my lip, momentarily distracted by the new feeling.

"Just let me know when you change your mind, ok? You can borrow one of our old costumes and just tag along. We'd all be very happy to take you."
I nod, but we both know I won't take her offer.

A soft knock on the door alerts us both and as Iona looks up, I turn to see who's there. Josh is standing in the doorway, holding a movie in his hands.

"Ready?" he asks.

Iona grins and looks to me. "We’re going to get into the Halloween spirit with a movie. Want to join us?"

I shake my head. I don't want to mess up their alone time. For some reason, that makes me blush.

"Okay. Let's watch in here then." Iona chuckles when she meets Josh’s gaze again, oblivious to my sudden discomfort. "Also, can I sleep over tonight?"

Josh’s gaze wanders around the room—the mess–and he smirks. "And here I was thinking you wanted to sleep with me for me. I'm appalled."

Iona laughs and moves out of the way so Josh can sit on her bed. "You are just added benefit."

And that’s my queue. I slip out of her room and head to mine. No need to watch their canoodling. No thank you.

Undisturbed, I spend a couple of hours alone in my room, reading in the rocking chair. Thinking. When my thirst gets too strong, I go downstairs to make some tea.

Of course, Declan is in the kitchen. Mid bite of what looks like pudding.

The need to confront him makes itself known, but I find I don't have the courage to do it. Flashes of images flit into my mind. I shake my head to try and get rid of them, but I find I can't. The memory of William over me, pinning me to the ground with his weight. Aren’t I nice to you, Cassia? You owe me this.

Peter’s voice whispers in my ear. You are a worthless waste of space. Let me show you what's best for girls like you.

I shudder at the memory and swallow the sudden lump in my throat away. I can't reconcile my own memories with what I've felt around Declan. I'm confused, but when have I not been in this house?

Declan looks at me questioningly, but I avoid his gaze and instead of making tea, I opt to just take a glass of juice. I don't want to be here with him, right now.

Forthcoming as always, he steps aside when he notices I want to go to the fridge. He's not saying anything and simply looks at me, which makes me all the more uncomfortable. I'm pretty sure my hands are shaking when I fill my glass with orange juice, but I try to keep my face composed.

When I'm done, I flee the kitchen like it's on fire, not looking back at Declan.

He still hasn't said a word.

Back in my room, I lock the door and lean back against it with my eyes closed.

Fucking excellent, Cassia.

Honestly, way to go.

The next day Emmy finds me in the kitchen while I'm having a midmorning snack and she asks me if I want to go somewhere today. I shake my head. I slept horribly, disturbing dreams with changing faces in wrong contexts filling my head and waking me up every other hour.

Emmy comes to sit with me at the kitchen table and looks at me for a long time before she speaks. "Something is bothering you." Ever observant.

I shift, uncomfortable under her gaze.

"Is it something I can help you with?"

I shake my head and look away. This is my own battle and it's about time I man up to face it.

Emmy sighs softly. "I don't like to see you so distressed. Please know you can talk to me."

I nod into my bowl of fruit salad. Frowning ever so slightly because I couldn’t finish it with her standing there staring at me. Damn, it was so good while it lasted. My stomach grumbles in protest, demanding that I finish the meal. My fingers even twitch towards the fork, but my throat closes up so tightly that I have to swallow before I can even breathe again.

Emmy opens her mouth again but is interrupted. "Good morning!" I look up and see Nick stepping into the kitchen. "Good to see you, Cassia. I feel like I haven't spoken to you in a long time. Work has been crazy lately."

I look at the man, not knowing what to reply. I have a feeling that he knows as well as I do–I have been carefully avoiding him. It’s a habit I’m still unsure if I need to break or not.

Just another thing to add to the pile of worries in my head.

Oblivious to my mental scolding, Nick continues as he pours himself a mug of coffee. "So, are you settling in a bit? I hear you tried school yesterday and that you want to start on Monday?"

I nod carefully to answer both of his questions.

He beams at me. "That's good to hear. I think it will be good for you to start a somewhat regular schedule again. How is your throat? I think the pain is gone now?"

To my left, Emmy gets up somewhat inconspicuously and starts to busy herself in the kitchen. As if on cue, Nick sits down in her seat so he's at eye level with me. They are so seamless in their careful scheming. I can almost appreciate it—well I actually do, but I’m not sure how I feel about that particular fact yet. Onto the pile it goes.

I nod to let Nick know the pain is gone.

"And your eyes? Have you checked them lately?"

He's asking after the telltale red spots that often appear in one's eyes after asphyxiation. I haven't checked them lately, but I know they can take up to six months to heal. I shake my head, feeling guilty and wondering if Nick will be upset that I didn't look.

It's just that I don't like to see myself in the mirror.

"As long as they're not bothering you, it should be fine." Nick smiles reassuringly. He takes a long drink of his coffee, watching me over the rim of his mug. It’s so easy to not be afraid of him that it’s making me anxious.

Go figure. The continuous absence of fear is putting me right back where I started. An anxious mess.

"How is the burn on your hand? Can you show it to me?" Nick holds out his hand palm up. Damn, a general check up and a small push of my boundaries. I cast a sidelong glance at Emmy, who is conspicuously not looking at either of us at the table. That’s enough to tell me that she told Nick about the hand holding incident.

I feel a blush tingle my cheeks as I recall what happened and to push the thoughts away, I reluctantly hold up my left hand. The skin is as good as healed and honestly, I care little for physical pain like this.

Nick leans in to look at my hand, gently cupping it in his own, then nods, pulling away. He didn’t even give me enough time to work up a panic that he touched me. "Looks good actually! You should have told me the skin broke. I could have given you something for it."

I pull my hand back and hide it inside the sleeve of my new black sweater as I look away. I know I should have, but the cream had been sufficient enough.

"And, most importantly, how do you feel? Are you at ease? Well?"

I’m–I'm honestly not sure how I feel. I’m not currently panicking or worrying, so I guess I’m ‘well’. I shrug and nod. Stupid communication.

Nick smiles once more, and I get the impression that he knows I took his question a little too literally on purpose. "So, any plans for today?"

I shake my head, answering Nick's question and let him know with a shrug that I’m not sure if Emmy has plans for me.

"If you want to go anywhere, just say so." Emmy reiterates. "Or ask Iona, for example. I'm sure she'd be happy to oblige."

"With what?" Iona asks as she comes into the kitchen still in her pajamas. She beelines to the fridge and pulls it open, presumably in search of food.

"Taking Cassia somewhere, should she want to."

"Of course," Iona replies, smiling as she closes the fridge in order to open the freezer and peer inside. "Why, do you want to go out?" She looks at me, her face open and patient.

I shake my head. No, not today.

"Okay, just let me know. Hmm, I need some food."

"Ah yes, I could use some lunch, too," Nick says.

"Why don't we all have lunch together?" Emmy asks. "I can make some sandwiches?"

"That sounds wonderful," Nick replies. "Will you join us, Cassia?"

His question catches me off guard and I blink in surprise. I do like sandwiches—especially the one Declan had made me–but I don't want to eat with so many others around.

Unconsciously, I look over my shoulder at Emmy for help.

"Too much?" She asks gently.

I swallow and have to force myself to nod, to admit that I can't and to accept that I'm disappointed about it. Very disappointed. I wonder if Emmy catches my flush of shame. "I'll make enough for us all, and then you can eat where you want, is that all right?" Emmy asks.

I nod again and get up to start to help Emmy to cook.

"This is the last chore." She says as I pull out the bread from the box. She's referring to the chores I bargained to do in exchange for the clothes I got. I'm surprised she actually kept count, but she's right. This is the last one. Dammit. I can’t believe I had gone through them so quickly. I had meant to make them last for quite some time.

Now I will need a new excuse to pull my weight around here.

"Hey, good to see you are helping out now." Iona observes lightly.

I do a double take at her as I realize what she means. When I first got here, I would have been very tense to be in the kitchen like this. I'm not at all relaxed right now, but I am willing to help out to make lunch. As long as Nick stays at the table, that is.

The four of us share a moment in silent realization and even I find myself smiling slightly. Nick chuckles into his coffee as Iona and Emmy grin at me. Suddenly shy, I shake my head and focus on chopping some green leafy lettuce.

"Iona, would you mind asking if Dec would like to eat, too?" Emmy asks.

Iona saunters over to the staircase and takes a deep breath, but Emmy interrupts her with a pointed look. "In a civilized manner, Iona James."

Iona mutters something and goes upstairs to her twin. When she comes down again, she announces Declan will join us in a bit. She sneaks a large chuck of cucumber as she steps by, moving deftly out of the way so Emmy’s poke of protest misses her entirely. They laugh as I move to get plates and cutlery for four. I’m watching them out of the corner of my eye, wishing that I too could be so relaxed. So carefree…

Shaking those dangerous thoughts from my head I place the items I gathered on the table. I feel both comfortable and uncomfortable with Nick so close by, but he has started to read the newspaper and is not looking at me. I stare at his bowed head for a moment, trying to understand all these conflicting feelings, before turning away once more.

“What is he doing up there? Usually the smell of food would bring him down from his cave.” Emmy says, raising her eyes to the ceiling as if she could see through the flooring into her nephew’s room.

"Dec was still snoring when I went in there." Iona shrugs. "I had to smack him to wake him up."

"Really? At this hour? What time did he come home last night after he left?" Nick asks without looking up.

"I don't know. I didn't hear him come home. I was in bed like the angelic child that I am."

"Angelic. Right." Declan murmurs as he steps into the kitchen. He's in sweats and wrinkly tshirt, and his hair is literally all over the place. He yawns and stretches lazily, raising his arms above his head and standing on his toes for maximum effect. From the corner of my eye, I see a patch of skin on his abdomen where his shirt is lifted by his outstretched body. The toned muscles taunt under his tanned skin. A thin trail of hair disappears into his pants.

Blushing for some inexplicable reason, I look away, busying myself with getting glasses from the top cabinet. What the hell?

"We didn’t hear you come home?" Emmy asks, she doesn’t look up from the sandwich she’s making, but the tone of her voice isn’t exactly warm. Declan seems to notice too and makes a face at the ground as he relaxes his stretching.

“It was late.” He says absently, shoving his hands in the pockets of his sweats.

"At what time?" Nick presses.

Declan shrugs looking at his uncle. "I don't know. Didn't check the time."

Even I know he's lying. I hold my breath to see what Nick will do. Everyone is frozen for a moment, even Declan, although there is a faint blush tinting the skin of his neck and ears. I’m prepared to bolt out of the room. But Nick doesn't get angry. He just looks at Declan for a moment before he speaks again. "Very well. Any plans for today?"

The surprise on Declan’s face is evident, though he runs a hand over his face to disguise it. "Nah. Play for a bit, I think. I want to finish that song by Chopin. Oh, that reminds me Cassia, I made a library for you with that music, if you want? I’ll just need to download it onto your phone."

There's that kindness again. I have to confront him, and soon.

I realize I want the library, too. He…made it for me…?

In my utter confusion, I can't help but ignore Declan's statement. My thoughts start to feel fuzzy and apparently my mind can shut down in situations like these, too. I hurry to fix myself a plate of food, cutlery clattering loudly on the porcelain when my shaking hands lose their grip and then quickly leave the room without a word, vaguely realizing I'm not even as concerned about the consequences of my actions as I should have been.

"That was…uh…weird." I hear Iona say through the fog in my mind. "Declan, did you upset her? Because I swear if you–"

"Not that I'm aware of." He answers, sounding bewildered.

I cut off the rest of the conversation by darting up to my room.

The food that would have been so delicious tastes like cardboard, but I do my best to eat it.

I'm in a bad mood. I hate that I'm so nervous, I hate that I'm so confused. I hate that I am who I am and that I cannot function properly in a family. I hate that I'm dependent on the kindness of others and I hate that I can't even appreciate it fully.

But I left William. I was the one who fled him. I was the one who set this all in motion.

Jackie didn't send me back.

There's something in that, but I don't know what. She could have sent me back and never thought twice about me again. Instead, she told me she was going to make some phone calls and within a couple of weeks I was on a plane to Rochester.

She didn't send me back.

She sent me here, to all this kindness.

In a sudden surge of determination, I boot the laptop and open my email program. Ignoring the new message that's waiting from her, I create a new one.

.

From: Cassia Sinclair
To: Jackie Dwyer
Subject: (No subject)

Thank you.
.

I click send.