“Sounds ominous,” I said. “Want to talk about it?”
“No,” he said. Then softer, “I appreciate it. But no.”
The barest flicker of a smile touched his lips, then he shut his laptop and got up. He put on his leather jacket, grabbed his motorcycle helmet, and split. I knew I wouldn’t see him again until two or three in the morning. I didn’t know where he went nearly every night, but I knew better than to ask.
I looked at what was left of Father’s note and felt an unpleasant tightness in my gut at this small defiance. If the NoSci prize had come around last year, I would’ve already signed up for it. No waiting, no defiance. So why now…?
I had no answer. Just like I had no idea why I started up with piano again. Then I remembered Professor Wolfe had likely assigned our pieces for Monday’s class. I opened my laptop and found it waiting for me.
from: ProfWolfe
to:
re: Monday Assignment
Nocturne No. 20, in C Sharp Minor, Chopin.
Dig, Orion.
Chopin’s No. 20 was one of the melancholiest of his works. I shut my laptop, thinking of Harper’s face when Elowen stumbled into my arms, and how I might’ve had something real in my hands and I let it fall in the sand at my feet.
Maybe, for the first time in my life, I might not have to dig at all.
***
Instead of the piano practice rooms, I hit the Academy’s immense gym first thing Sunday morning. Coach Daniels needed us in fit condition.
You don’t even know yet if you made the crew but…sure.
I headed for the ergometers—the fancy rowing machines that mimicked being on the water. Tucker and Rhett and some of the other crew guys were there. Surprising, given how drunk Tucker had been last night. Dean Yearwood, our coxswain, was coaching Cassian Thorne—our singles guy—through some techniques on a mat.
“Orion, my man.” Tucker’s hand landed heavily on my back. “You finally did the deed.”
“Which deed might that be? I’ve accomplished so much in my short life.”
Rhett grinned. “I saw you leave with Elowen Blake.”
“I only took herhome,” I said, adjusting the erg’s settings. “She was drunk as shit.”
“I fail to see a problem,” Rhett said, curling forty-pound weights while admiring himself in the mirror.
“Bloody hell,” I said. “Do you hear yourself?”
“Relax,” he said. “I just meant she’s made no secret how badly she wants you. Like a dog in heat. What difference does it make if she’s drunk or not?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, yanking on the erg’s arm row. “I prefer my bedmates to be of sound mind and body, but that’s just me.”
“Well, did you do it or not?” Tucker asked, wiping his brow with a towel and looking slightly green. And not from this conversation.
“No.”
“Christ. What the fuck are you waiting for?”
Chemistry class.
“Hey, listen,” I said, ceasing my exercise. “You fucking arseholes are going to forget about your senior prank.”
“Huh?” Tucker frowned. “You mean that Harper chick? Oh, come on—”
