After another few moments of awkward silence, Ajax tapped the edge of the table in an uneven tune before turning his full attention to me. “So, word on the street is you snagged a sponsor. How’d you manage that?”
Paris rolled her eyes, turning her focus away from her heels for a moment. “No wonder you accepted Rain’s offer.”
Ajax curled his lips, his eyes moving to her in a flash. “Why’d you?”
She stayed silent, shrugging and focusing back on her heels. Ortrying to; I could still notice her attention on me. She was as curious as him. I really thought if they’d argue amongst themselves again, they’d forget I was there, but it seems fresh gossip is of the utmost priority over here.
I followed Paris’ movement and shrugged, intertwining my hands on the table. “I don’t know. I just wrote an essay, and a few weeks later, I received a letter of admission.”
She didn’t try hiding her curiosity, facing me with wide eyes. “Wait, that was it? That’s not fai–”
“It is if it’s a sponsor.” Ajax leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Whatever they say goes, in case you forgot.”
His last words made me realize he wasn’t talking to me, but I couldn’t help the words tumbling out of my mouth the next moment, “What can they do?”
If I had to guess whotheywere, I’d put my money on the board. It couldn’t exactly be the dean.
Both students watched me like I was crazy. They blinked, then blinked again before Paris took in a breath and exhaled it obnoxiously. “They have, essentially, unchallenged dominion over Castle Hill. Similar to a company’s board of directors, except they aren’t elected.”
Ajax finished for her, “If they choose to sponsor a student, it's different than a scholarship. You are offered a position through theirpersonalrecommendation and pockets.”
So, someone was paying for my stay and education here at Castle Hill. A board member.
I looked between the pair, wondering for a moment if I could trust what they were saying before pushing my luck. If they were willing to talk, who was I to plug my ears? It wasn’t like the student body president was very forthcoming and plain-spoken. “Who makes up the board?”
“Legacies with the right credentials. Like Rain’s grandmother. Fenlon–”
“Don’t,” Ajax’s words towards Paris came out harsh and in haste. “Don’t start with that.”
She rolled her eyes, not the least bit affected by the anger radiating off him. But I could feel myself getting nervous. Wanting answers but needing a clear mind to receive them.
I slid my hands off the table, and subtly pressed my palms against my trousers, hoping they’d absorb the moisture gathering. “H–” I coughed to give myself more air. “How do you know who's sponsoring you?”
At first, I didn’t think he’d respond. He hung his head and let out a calming sigh before looking back at me. I didn’t know what his problem with the Fenlon name was, remembering back to his issue with the building; frankly, I didn’t care. But if they keep voluntarily airing their dirty laundry, I would be forced to think. To sit and ponder. I couldn’t help it.
But maybe this was good. Maybe these trivial matters, in my eyes, would be a great distraction from the darker corners of my mind that were constantly weaving their way to the forefront.
I still remember the dirty duffel bag strapped around myshoulders, the same one stuffed under my bed back in the dorm. I remember gripping it for dear life on trains, buses, and underpasses. I remember the fear I’d get when something that didn’t belong passed in the corner of my eye. The way I’d get whiplash turning my head in the direction of what I thought I saw, before walking a little faster, changing directions from the school I was attending for the time being or the shack of a motel I was staying at, to the closest bus terminal.
It didn’t make sense that someone with my record got an admission offer in a place like this. With people who would one day run companies and political parties, making the rules for people like me to follow.
“Wait–... You don’t know who’s sponsoring you?”
I didn’t understand the look Paris passed over to Ajax, who ping-ponged it right back to her. “Yeah, it never said.”
My words came out slow, eyes bouncing between the two, observing any giveaways in their expressions, but they’d been quick to cover it up. Something was going on that I wasn’t aware of. Something they knew and didn’t seem to be willing to share. My skin began to prickle at the mystery of my case.
I expected it. For someone like me, there was never smooth sailing. There was always something. “What?”
I looked between them and leaned forward with a low whisper, hoping one of them would be smart enough to talk. “Tell me.”
I didn’t like being in the dark about something that concerned me; I’m sure no one would. But this was, in my eyes, a matter of lifeand death. Panic gripped me, thoughts of what they’d do to me filled my head.
I could see myself then, in a cell of my own making. Head pressed against the cold concrete, where no one could hear me scream. It’d smell like piss. And old blood.
Mildew stains on the wall.
They’d cut me and–
