Page 70 of Kingmakers, Year One

Instead, he says, “I know what you do like.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“You like dancing.”

“No big mystery—you saw me practicing.”

“I know you practice every day. In the cathedral.”

I can feel my cheeks getting hot. I wish they didn’t do that—I can keep the rest of my face still and expressionless when I wantto. But I can never stop that damn pink flush spreading across my face.

“How do you know that?” I say stiffly.

“You’re not the only one who can’t sleep. I wander all over this place.”

It makes me feel strange knowing that Dean is walking around the grounds in the middle of the night just like I am, when most everyone else is asleep.

To change the subject I say, “My mother’s a dancer.”

“She taught you?”

“Yes.”

“You must be close,” Dean says.

Now I notice something in his face that I don’t think he would want me to see. Pain. And envy.

“She loves me,” I say. “But we’re not close. Not as close as we should be. I’m not like her. I couldn’t be, even if I wanted.”

I don’t know why I told him that. Habits of honesty, I guess. I’m too used to spending time with Leo, where I say exactly what I think and feel all the time, never holding back. Well, almost everything.

“Why would you want to be like your parents?” Dean says, his face darkening. “I hate when I?—”

He breaks off abruptly, biting back the rest of his words.

I wish he would finish. I very much want to know what the end of that sentence would have been.

Instead, he shoves back from the table, closing his notebook and stuffing it back in his bag.

“I’m hungry,” he says. “That’s enough for today.”

Without waiting for me to respond, he swings his bag over his shoulder and stalks out of the library.

I stay exactly where I am, thinking over the dozen different things he might have been about to say.

I don’t think Dean stopped talking because he didn’t want me to hear it. I think he stopped because he surprised himself with what almost came out of his mouth.

I can’t be sure—but it seems most likely that he was about to say,I hate when I’m like my father.

10

LEO

Anna and I are hiking on the east side of the island. It’s Saturday, which means we have no classes and plenty of time to explore. On the weekends everyone takes the chance to get off campus, to go visit the little village down by the harbor or to wander around the fields, farms, vineyards, and beaches.

The village doesn’t offer much of interest—or at least it wouldn’t if there were other options for entertainment. But any change of place seems exciting on the island. So Anna, Ares, and I often walk down to have coffee and scones in the little cafe on the harbor’s edge, or to eat freshly-battered fish and chips at the even smaller restaurant that serves only the one dish.

I’ll admit, it’s the best damn fish and chips I’ve ever eaten, with bass caught the same morning, still cold from the ocean when they throw it in the fryer. That’s the only way I enjoy seafood: battered, fried, and disguised.

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