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“Fine.” I smile. “Adequate.”
“Did you manage to finish your lit homework?”
I shrug. “I’ve barely started it.”
“That’s not like you.”
“You don’t know what is or isn’t like me.”
He lets out a chuckle like a sigh. “You’re proud of that, aren’t you?”
“Of what?”
“Of how you always manage to keep me at arm’s length. Of making sure I’m only ever one step removed from a stranger.”
I shake my head. My chest feels tight and my head the opposite, like my skull is a wide, empty space full of swirling galaxies. I’m so light-headed I’m afraid I might keel over right into the fountain, into the aquamarine water aglow with the light of underwater bulbs.
“You’re not a stranger,” I tell Zachary. “You’re my friend.”
He’s silent for a moment. Even through my torpor, I can tell he’s surprised. He raises an arm and gently cups my cheek, turning my head so I’m facing him.
“If I was your friend, you’d tell me what’s wrong.”
“I feel light-headed.”
His eyebrows rise in concern. “You do? Have you eaten dinner yet?”
I shake my head.
“You probably need to eat. What time did you have lunch?”
I shake my head again.
He sighs. “Did you not have lunch?”
“I forgot.”
It’s not quite a lie. I woke up too late for breakfast, rushed to my classes, and then was too tired to go pick up some food from the dining hall. I had two apples before going to Mr Ambrose’s office because I didn’t want to embarrass myself by swooning in front of him.
Zachary, to my surprise, doesn’t roll his eyes or tell me off.
“No wonder you’re light-headed, Theo. I’m impressed you’re still able to walk.” He brushes the hair back from my face and smiles. “Would you like to come to the dining hall and do me the honour of dining together?”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to go to the dining hall.”
He watches me for a second. “Do you still prefer to eat in private?”
It’s my turn to be surprised. I didn’t expect him to remember this—I barely remember telling him.
“Alright,” he says. “Come with me.”
He gives me his hand, and I take it, letting him pull me to my feet. He guides me back into the Old Manor and into one of the empty classrooms. They are all locked at this time of day, but he has a key—I don’t know why since he isn’t a prefect and never was. The teachers probably love and trust him enough to let him have access to empty classrooms.
It’s not until he leads me to one of the desks and pulls up a chair for me that I realise he’s still holding my hand. His warmth trickles into me via our connected palms. When I sit down and he lets me go, the flow of warmth is immediately cut off.
Zachary looks down with a solemn expression. “I want you to stay here and wait for me, alright?”
I nod.
