Page 37 of Oleander
“You’re two hours late.”
“I needed a shower after Combat Class. Trust me, I did you a favor. Then, my body decided I needed a nap. I was exhausted, sorry. I hope you can understand.” I give him my most honest eyes, even though I purposefully chose to be late.
“Hmm.” One simple hum is all it takes before guilt punches me in the gut. I’ve never had a dad, but the disappointment Goulding is projecting isn’t a great feeling.
“I, uh, I’m also sorry for making a scene and disrupting class.”
“And for disrespecting your professor?”
I don’t lie this time. “I’m not sorry for that. He’s a judgmental asshole, and I stand by it.”
There’s a long pause and an even longer stare-off, but for some reason, I find the need to stand up for Oleander to be overwhelming. He’s innocent, good, andpure. Slate is a dick.
Goulding sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, and I bite the inside of my cheek to conceal my mirth at making this ancient man frustrated. Being annoying is a magic only the most powerful Fae possess, and luckily, I am one, wielding it on command with grace and poise.
“Skyler, you cannot call one of my professors an arsehole. I will not tolerate it.” His thick gray eyebrows twitch, and his amber eyes flare.
“But what if I won’t tolerate the way he spoke to my classmate? We riot for what we believe where I come from.”
“Is that some sort of threat, Mr. Fairfield?”
Shit. Backtrack. Backtrack!
“No. Of course not. But I stand up for what’s right. For what I believe in. I don’t want to lose my agency here, Headmaster.”
Goulding stares at me for a moment, thinking long and hard about my words. “I understand and respect your strength of character, Skyler. Your human traits make you uniquely skilled and knowledgeable. I’ll speak to Coach Slate about letting you all make your own decisions. We’re all adults here.”
Says the mysterious Fae, who’s nearly a millennia old.
I nod, feeling uncomfortable even though Ithinkhe’s on my side.
“Good day, Mr. Fairfield.”
I take that as my cue to leave and hop up, grabbing my backpack from the floor and slipping from his office without another word. Freshman Orientation, and then I’mdone.
“How was your visit with the headmaster? Class?” Ander asks with a sweet smile, tucking his hair behind his ear. He’s wearing tan linen pants and a gauzy tunic that’s nearly see-through, showing glimpses of his nipples. I love it when he wears the clothing he’s most comfortable in.
He looks as delicious as the place smells.
“Meh and okay.But what is that fucking amazing smell?” I ask, genuinely excited and effectively changing the subject. My stomach grumbles. “I’m starving.”
Ander stands in front of the stove, tossing ingredients in a large skillet like a pro. “Vegetable stir fry. There’s sticky rice in the pot over there and flatbread in the oven.”
I come up behind him and hover over his shoulder, burying my face in his neck. “Mmm, delicious.” I kiss him there, causing a shiver to race through his delicate body. I bite and lick and suck, his magic reigned in tight. I’m impressed by his progress.
“It’s nearly ready if you’d like to have a seat,” Ander says in a single breath, and I chuckle, sitting down at our little wooden table. I’m starting to grow pretty damn fond of it.
We begin to eat, and the mood feels somber, even though the food is flavorful. I can’t stand the silence. It’s killing me. “Are you mad at me?”
Oleander sets his fork down, reaching across the table. He grabs my hand and squeezes it gently. “How could I be mad atyou when I want the same thing?To go home.As much as my mother wanted to try, it didn’t work out here. Especially when my only friend wants to leave, and everyone hates me. Including my own twin.”
“I don’t hate you.” I squeeze his hand back.
He smiles sadly, releasing my grip. “But you’re leaving.”
“Right.”
There’s an awkward silence as we both sit here, pondering our futures and staring at our half-eaten plates.
