Cursed Hearts (A Crossroads Novel) (43 page)

Chapter 36

“You
would not believe what I just learned about in my last class,” Christian said,
sitting beside Aria with a smile.

Ariahna
shifted uncomfortably, considering briefly finding a new seat. Instead she
said, “I’m still mad at you,” without turning to look at him. “I think it would
be best if you sat with someone else.”

Christian
tried to reach out and touch her hair and Aria shied away from him. “I know
you’re still mad, but you should know, I haven’t been with
anyone else since. What I’m trying to say is that
I want a second chance.
Or at the least, I want us to be friends,” he
said, concealing a cringe at the word.

One
step at a time
,
he thought.

“I
got ahold of your birth certificate,” she said abruptly. “We’re not related, so
you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Strange, I kind of forgot already,” he smiled. She slipped
a
folded up piece of
paper out of her pocket, pressing it into his palm.

“…In
case you want to know.”

“Welcome
to Transference,” their teacher said, rushing into the class with a wide smile
and a complex braided bun atop her head. “My name is Ms. Marsh, and I’ll be
your instructor.” She wrote her name in large, cursive letters across the board
before turning to face the class. “Alright,” she said in
her lovely English accent, “can anyone tell me
what
transference
is?
No one?” she smiled. “Come now, I’m
sure some of you at least read the syllabus; the course description, perhaps? No?”

Ariahna
raised her hand shyly and Ms. Marsh’s beautiful young face lit up. She had to
be in her early thirties, and she was very attractive. Most of the boys had
apparently noticed.

“Yes,
the girl with the pretty red hair.”

“Ariahna,” she supplied. Ms. Marsh made a note of it in
her seating
chart. “Transference
is the study of magical modes of travel.”

“Right
you are. Now, can anyone tell me the three most reliable and most utilized
types of transference?” The class was motionless as she waited for another
raised hand to appear. Aria lifted hers reluctantly after a moment. “Ariahna,”
Ms. Marsh smiled, happy to know her name this time.

“Reflective
transference, geographical transference, and direct transference,” she
answered.

“Very good, that’s correct. Can you tell me their common
names, for
the rest
of the class?”

“Reflective transference is often referred to as
‘reflecting’, the tunnels
created by geographical transference are commonly known as ‘rabbit holes’, and
direct transference is described simply as ‘blinking’.”

Ms. Marsh nodded happily. “These are the three forms of
transference
we will be studying and learning
to use in this class.” She wrote their names upon the board, pointing to each
to describe it in turn. “In simplest terms, reflective transference is the art
of traveling through mirrors; geographical transference is the art of traveling
geologically by connecting one location to another via magical tunneling; and
direct transference is the art of traveling by merely blinking and
rematerializing yourself somewhere. Some often feel a sensation as though being
tossed or flung across some great distance. Direct
transference is perhaps the most unpredictable, however, as if your
concentration is not great enough, you could quite literally end up
anywhere.”

“So
it’s either through the looking glass or down the rabbit hole?” Christian
grinned. “Which would you suggest, Alice?”

Ariahna
frowned at him slightly. Was he flirting?

The
teacher continued on with her lecture, and class ended entirely too soon for
Christian’s liking. He felt like he could sit there and stare at Aria all day
long without a worry in the world.

“Aria,”
he said, grabbing her wrist before she could stand to leave. “Did you maybe want
to study together, in my room?” Christian turned sideways in his chair to face
her, leaning in close. “I heard you’re really good at Transmutation, and I wouldn’t
mind a tutor. Actually, the teacher recommended you by name. Plus, that would
make you the first girl ever to step foot in my room,” he whispered. “That’s
sort of a big deal for me. Or maybe we could look through that journal
together?”

“Sorry,
I have Conjuration in a few minutes,” she said.

“Well
what about after that?”

“I
think it would be better if we didn’t. From what I understand, you’re going to
have a rough night tonight.”

“All
the more reason to hang out with me,” he argued. “For all I know, Rome might
kill me. We don’t know what’s going to happen.” The truth behind those words
was no laughing matter, but that hadn’t stopped him from cracking a smile. “How
guilty would you feel if you said no and I wasn’t here tomorrow?”

“Not
as guilty as Rome, I suppose,” she said teasingly.

“…I
suppose you’re right. But—you’d still feel guilty.”

She
set her books back on the desk, and against her better judgment, she reached
out and touched his arm. “Christian, nothing’s going to happen to you. You know
that, right? You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

She
was going to make sure of that.

Christian
stared down at her fingers against his skin, the look on his face somber. “I
just want to spend some time with you,” he said softly. The genuine touch of
her guilt was like a living thing. It was harder to bare today, more intense
than it had been previously. He hoped that was temporary.

“Maybe
we can study together after class,” she said. His face took on an expression so
hopeful it hurt. “In the library though, not your room.”

“Do
you think the library’s still a mess?” he wondered.

“I’m
sure it’s been cleaned up by now.”

“Yeah, of course,” he hurried to say. “The library’s fine.
Do you want
to meet there,
or should I meet you outside your class?”

“I’ll
meet you there.”

“Alright,”
he grinned. “Just don’t stand me up or I might cry.” Christian planted one on
her cheek and then darted off before he could regret it. Ariahna was left
sitting there, stunned.

***

Rome
stepped out of the Dean’s office with a new weight on his shoulders. CPS had
been called on Henry thanks to the scene he’d made at La Lune. Despite
everything that man had done to him, Rome didn’t want him to go to jail. He
just wanted him to be rehabilitated. He wanted him to stop
drinking and find something worth living for again.
Apparently they’d
already started an investigation into his home life,
and somehow, they knew about his scars. The only good news he’d gotten was that
the female counselor, Ms. Crane, was helping to handle his case instead of Mr.
Richmond. But that had only left him thinking about Christian. In his mind, what
was being done to him was far worse than anything Henry had ever done.
Christian wasn’t just some random kid anymore, either. He was his brother, his
own flesh and blood. He was going to find a way to protect him, whether he
wanted his help or not.

Rome
walked up to Kaleb’s door, frowning when he heard the soft sound of moaning. He
knew he shouldn’t be jealous, but that didn’t change
the fact that he was. “Kaleb?” he said, knocking timidly on the door.
“Are you in there?”
Of course he’s in there, you idiot
, he thought. The
door jerked barely open and he was actually trying to crane his neck to look
inside. He didn’t need to see in, he could smell Christian all over him. “I’ve
been looking for you,” Rome said. “Why weren’t you in class?”

“Hm,
wasn’t I in class?” Kaleb said thoughtfully. “Maybe you just didn’t notice me
there. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“What
is that supposed to mean? I notice you.” Kaleb had an indignant look on his
face. “Are you mad at me or something?”

“Not
in the slightest. I’m just a little busy right now, so if you don’t mind,
perhaps we can talk later
? Thanks for
stopping by.”

“Hey,”
Rome said, slapping his palm against the closing door. “I don’t know what your
problem with me is all of a sudden, but I’m getting kind of tired of you
closing doors in my face. If you must know, I’ve been looking for you for a
while. You’re never in your room, and when you are—”

He
clenched his jaw angrily.

“I
came here because I thought you might be hungry, but clearly you’ve got that
covered. I guess I wasn’t so hard to replace after all.”

“Isn’t
that my line?” Kaleb said with a harsh smile. “You know, I don’t really have
the time or energy for this conversation right now. And honestly, soon enough
it won’t matter. I’m leaving.”

“The hell you are,” he growled, shoving into his room and
slamming
the door closed. Christian was sitting on the edge of
Kaleb’s mattress,
staring
thoughtfully
at the hardwood. It was as if he thought he wouldn’t be seen if he just stayed
very, very still. “You give me some big speech about not leaving you here to
deal with this shit alone, and then you think you’re going to just take off?
Where do you think you’re even going to go? And how am I supposed to help you
if you just fucking run away, or keep avoiding me?”

“I
think I’m going to go,” Christian whispered.

“Sit,”
Rome hissed.

Christian
obeyed instantaneously.

“You’re
the one who kissed me. You don’t get to be all—whatever the hell this is.” Rome
bit the inside of his cheek, hard. He hadn’t actually intended to say that in
front of Christian.

“Jeez,
you’re more protective over him than Aria,” he mumbled.

“Shut up,” Rome barked. “I don’t need your god-damn
opinions
right now. Seriously,
what is your problem? Do you have some little brother, sibling rivalry complex
or something? Or is taking everything I have just more of a pastime?”

“Uh,
neither?” he shrugged.

“You
know, I care about you, but damn if you don’t get
under
my skin. Just get out of here, and don’t forget about
tonight.”

Rome
turned, watching Christian as he left. Maybe they wouldn’t fight after all, he
thought. He was clearly the dominant one between the two of them. Tomorrow
would be a better time to talk about the counselor as well. It was Rome’s hope
that he might actually open up to him then.

“So do you have anything to say to all of that, or what?”
he a
sked.

Kaleb
crossed his arms, knitting his eyebrows together in annoyance as he stared Rome
down. “Thanks for scaring my meal away.”

“That’s
all you’ve got to say for yourself?”

“You’d
like me to say more?” Kaleb said with a dangerous edge to his voice. “Try this,
then. You don’t get a say in what I do if you can’t even be bothered to own up
to how you feel. I’m done with being toyed with, strung along, and left out to
wither in the sun. I’ve had about enough of it in my life. And now that I’ve
finally gotten away from all that, the last thing I need is someone else who’s
going to screw me over and use me as he sees fit. In summary, fuck off.”

“I’m
not… using you,” Rome said. “This is just—no man’s land to me. Can’t you
understand that?”

“You
know what the saddest part might be?” Kaleb said. “You don’t even realize what
you’re doing. You’re telling me you’re afraid, but not uninterested, thus
keeping me in a state of perpetual hope. Meanwhile, you’re off gallivanting
around with your would-be girlfriend and expecting me to be waiting in the
wings. You’ve made it clear that I’m not yours, and that you’re only mildly
interested in being mine, and yet you’re chasing prospects out of my room like
you have a fucking right to be jealous.”

“…You’re
right,” he said, sitting down on the edge of Kaleb’s bed and expelling the air
from his lungs. He hunched over, rubbing a palm over his mouth.
Why did I
have to fall for two people?

“If
you’re patient,” Rome breathed, “this might work out.
Because
I’m telling you right now, I am… interested. But if you
leave, then I think we’re both going to be left wondering, what if?” He dropped
his eyes to the floor, visually tracing the lines in the wood. “Are you still
hungry?”