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Storm takes the measure of the woman once more. Jane has an air of refined femininity and a certain faintly stern air, but for the moment she is perfectly pleasant. Storm assumes this will be another meeting in which she tells someone something they want to hear. Justifications and distractions are the order of the day.
“I have German lessons in the city, you know. Over there,” Storm nods at the other side of the river.
“Yes. I’m aware. You’ve not been attending those either.”
“Oh. Well. Schedules are difficult.” Storm gives a little shrug. “I guess sometimes I miss a class here and there.”
Jane seems to decide to take a more direct approach, as this young lady is showing no signs of contrition, and even less of a tendency to confession. “It has come to my attention that you have been traveling around the countryside while under the influence of mushrooms.”
There’s a brief laugh in the wake of that sentence, and an expression of what is quite clearly pride passes over Storm’s face.
“Mushrooms?” Storm pretends to have not the slightest clue what Jane means. “Like… a can of mushrooms?”
“Your host sister contacted me. She, unlike any of the people who are supposed to be paying attention to where you are and what you’re doing, is worried about you.”
“Mari’s just…”
Storm never gets to explain just what Mari is, because Jane continues.
“She informs me you arrived six hours after you were due to meet her, finally showing up at an ungodly hour in the morning after somehow turning a two-hour train trip into a seven-hour ordeal.”
“Hey, listen…”
“No. You listen. She said you and your friend were both loopy and talking about mushrooms.” Jane’s voice takes on a much sterner, appalled tone. “Two teenage girls, loose in the middle of the night on psychedelics. Anything could have happened to you.”
“Anything can happen to anyone.” Storm sneaks that response in even though there’s barely any space for it to occupy.
Jane’s tone has become stern, as has her demeanor, and this young lady does not like being spoken to that way one little bit. She is starting to feel like she might be in trouble, and that is an uncomfortable feeling she has not had in a very, very long time. Storm does not let anybody tell her what to do. She’ll let them pretend that they’re in charge, but it will never mean anything to her, not really. The second she’s out of this office, she’s getting more mushrooms. She hadn’t planned to, but now she basically has to, in case this woman gets the idea she’s in control somehow.
For the moment, Storm’s irritation falls entirely on her snitching host sister.
“She’s such a….” Storm doesn’t finish her sentence, but she looks displeased. She looks at Jane with an unspoken but very clear lack of respect, not only for this woman, but for anybody who attempts to impose authority or order on her. “Yes. I took mushrooms. So what?”
Jane’s expression becomes very stern indeed.
“You are a ward of this institution, Storm. Your exchange agreement states you will attend classes and follow the laws of this country. These are grounds for being immediately returned to New Zealand.”
Storm’s eyes widen with concern, the first actual emotion that hasn’t been some smug evasion. “You’re sending me back?”
“That very much depends on the choices you make here today.” Jane gestures to the empty desk. It is big and solid and old. It looks like it is waiting for something. Or maybe someone. “Bend over, young lady.”
Storm looks at her with surprise and instant rebellion.
“I don’t think so.”
She doesn’t even have to think about that refusal. It’s automatic. Besides, she’s not really even thinking about this woman anymore. She’s thinking about her friends back at home and how much she misses them. Her best friend from boarding school has sent her a letter practically every day since she left. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing to be sent home. Then she and Sarah could go to university together instead of…
Again, Jane’s voice interjects into Storm’s swift considerations. “Bend over this instant, or I will call your parents.”
There’s a brief moment in which Storm’s eyes narrow, and something other than predictable parental fear comes into them. Her expression holds something much more like disdain. She is not afraid of them, but she certainly wants nothing to do with them. She’d mostly forgotten they existed, in much the same way they appear to have forgotten her. She’s not heard from them since she got to Switzerland months ago.
The mere mention of her parents solidifies her rebellion, turns it from something reckless but inherently playful into something darker and much more potentially destructive.
She gives a little shrug, looking Jane dead in the eye with the absolute peace of mind of someone who does not care what happens to them. There is challenge in that stare. She knows this woman won’t know what to do with someone like her. Nobody does.
“I’m going to go now.”
“Stay right there, young lady.” Jane’s tone sharpens, something in it akin to the effects of a Medusa, making Storm freeze even as she pivots back to the door. Her hands, half-pulled out of her pockets while still clenched, shake a few items loose.
