Page 86 of Snitches and Serpents

And now, as I lie on the bed and stare up at the ceiling while I wait for the hours to turn Friday afternoon into Friday evening, I feel almost at peace. All my life, I have tried to control everything around me so that I can maintain my perfect façade. But now, I have come to accept that there are certain things that I can’t control. And if I can’t control them anyway, what good is panicking about them going to do? It still won’t change anything.

I’ve missed the entire first exam week, which means that I will be expelled. But John also said that he can protect me from that, so there is no point getting stressed out about it. Tristan will release me as soon as he gets home from his final exam today, just like he promised several times, and then I will go back to my dorm room and call John. And he will fix this. Nothing to worry about. Everything will be fine.

Rolling over on my side, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and sit up. Then I run my fingers through my hair and stretch my arms over my head. My entire body feels calm and relaxed.

To be honest, this week has almost felt like a little vacation. I’ve been able to sleep in and catch up on weeks of rest. Food has been made for me and simply delivered to me. And most importantly, I haven’t had to spend every waking hour keeping up my perfect public image. I’ve been able to set the mask aside and simply exist, without having to be someone. It’s been incredibly freeing.

But I will never, ever, admit any of that to Tristan.

With a sigh, I stand up and start towards the bathroom. The chain rattles faintly behind me as I walk. I glance down at my ankle.

I had expected the metal to start chafing. But when I actually took the time to sit down and study the manacle, I realized that it was padded in order to prevent that exact thing. It took me a little by surprise.

For someone who hates me enough to kidnap me and lock me up, he has also spent an awful lot of time thinking about small details like that. Making sure the manacle doesn’t hurt me. Getting me a toothbrush and toiletries. Bringing me new clothes to wear. Making sure I’m eating enough.

Stopping in front of the sink, I brace my hands on the cool surface and stare at myself in the mirror. I heave another sigh. Apparently, I look as confused as I feel.

I don’t know what to make of Tristan anymore.

One part of me hates him, and I mean truly despises him, for what he’s doing to me right now. Messing with my education and potentially ruining my future is unforgivable.

But at the same time, I understand him. Because I did the same thing to him. No. In fact, I did worse to him.

Even if I’m kicked out of Bercester U, there is nothing stopping me from simply applying to a different university next year. I could still salvage my future. I would just have some undesirable gaps in my resume and a degree from a less prestigious university.

Tristan, however, lost everything when he lost his scholarship. He couldn’t just apply to another school. That was his one shot at getting out of our hometown and building a better life for himself.

And I ruined it for him.

Curling my fingers around the edge of the sink, I grip it hard as another wave of guilt and regret washes over me.

God, I never thought that my words would have such huge and irreversible consequences.

The police officers just asked if I had seen anyone, and since my dad has always drilled into me that I need to have an impeccable moral compass, I simply told the truth. I didn’t even consider what it might do to Tristan.

And when he was arrested, I thought nothing more of it. I simply assumed that he had stolen the equipment to sell it. After all, everyone knew that his family was poor. I had no idea that he stole it just because he was desperate to study and to keep his grades up.

I thought it was a simple act of petty thievery that he learnt his lesson from with a few weeks of community service. Nothing else.

But that seems to be the problem, doesn’t it?

I’ve never really thought about anyone else. My entire life, I have been so consumed by the constant pressure to always be perfect in every way, that I have never stopped to think that maybe other people have been dealing with similar hardships. Just because the pressure that I’ve been under has felt so overwhelming, I’ve kind of just assumed that I’m the only one who is struggling. That everyone else has it easier.

Letting out a humorless laugh, I shake my head at myself in the mirror.

Gosh, I’m such a fool.

Turning on the tap, I splash water over my face to help clear my head.

Right as I finish drying my face again, the sound of the door being opened comes from out in the bedroom. I hang the towel back on its hook and then walk back out.

Tristan is standing there in the middle of the room, his arms crossed over his chest and his sharp eyes locked on me.

For a while, no one says anything.

I just stand there on the floor, watching him in the crackling silence.

My heart flutters.

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