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She braced herself on the way up the stairs, remembering that teenagers didn’t always like to talk much. The best she could do was knock on the door, ask to come in, and open up the chocolate.
When she reached his room, she expected to hear loud music, but it was silent inside.
She knocked, wondering if he was even in there.
“Yeah?” he mumbled.
“It’s Yasmine,” she said. “Can I come in?”
He made a non-committal noise that she decided to take as a yes.
She carefully pushed open the door and stepped inside with their snack.
Jax was sitting at his desk with a huge sheet of paper in front of him and a graphic sketching wand.
She walked over to see what he was sketching. The paper was filled with a drawing of the palace grounds. It was a stylized cartoon, but the statues and fountains appeared to be alive and moving. And it was honestly impressive.
“Ajax, this is incredible,” she breathed. “You have a real talent.”
He scowled at her, but didn’t cover his work.
“How long have you been working on this?” she asked.
“Couple of days,” he said.
She studied the house itself and the way he had captured not just the architecture but the feel of the lofty rooflines and porches.
“So, what’s up?” he asked after a moment.
“Can I sit?” she asked.
He moved the drawing and gestured to the other chair in his room.
She dragged it over to sit with him, placing the two drinks down and opening the packet of chocolates.
“You had a rough day, I’m guessing,” she said. “And I know it’s my fault. I’m really sorry, Jax. I had no idea that was your mother’s hat. I swear. I’ve made a serious mess, and I can’t think of a good way to make it up to you.”
He looked up at her, meeting her eyes for the first time that day. They were as blue as his father’s, and with his massive size she was struck again by their likeness.
“I had a shitty day,” he said, nodding. “But it had nothing to do with you.”
She chose to overlook his language. It was more important to keep him talking.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked. “I’m leaving as soon as my replacement gets here in a few days, so you don’t have to worry about me telling anyone. Unless you did something illegal, like stole a hoverbus or something.”
He smirked at that.
“It’s nothing illegal,” he said. “So, if you won’t tell my dad, sure, you can know about it.”
She nodded, though she already felt bad at the idea of keeping a secret from the boy’s father. But sometimes teenagers just needed someone to talk to. And it would be better if he told someone what was going on.
He took a swig of his soda and then grabbed a chocolate crisp and studied it like there was going to be a test.
“I got in trouble again today,” he said. “And they told me if it happens one more time, I’m off the zingball team.”
“Wow,” Yasmine said, trying to stay quiet and let him tell the story as he liked.
“Everyone thinks I’m my dad,” he went on. “Because I look like him, and because I’m big.”
