“That is… very difficult to picture,” Alex said, after trying and failing to imagine it. “She must be miserable doing that.”
“Actually, according to my friend Adel, who did a summer internship down at Processing with her last year, they practically had to turn the lights out to get her to leave the building,” Vivik said, shrugging as if to show that he would have doubted it himself. “She eats candy and codes away, apparently.”
“That’s… well, actually, that’s believable.”
Vivik was a little worried about Alex. He couldn’t help but be concerned. After all, it wasn’t like him to be so down about things. However, he was also more than a little bit grateful that his thoughts seemed to have turned back toward Eerie, even if it was galling that Alex could simply ignore the girl of Vivik’s dreams throwing herself at him. Still, he felt a sense of obligation to his friend.
“Do you want to come back to my room and watch anime? I downloaded new episodes of Toradora and Full Metal Alchemist and stuff…”
“Alright,” Alex said, finally sitting up from where he’d been lying on the bed. “But I’m not watching the one with the girls in the cartoon band again. Nothing ever happens, and the music is annoying.”
“Okay,” Vivik said, smiling as he held open the door for Alex.
“And not one where they talk forever about how powerful they are and hidden techniques and all that shit but never actually get around to fighting. I’m sick of giant swords, and I’m not staying up all night to find out who wins.”
“Okay,” Vivik said as they walked down the hallway, humoring him.
“Oh yeah! No more shows where all the girls throw themselves at some lame guy who spends his time running away and having nosebleeds, because he’s some kind of porn-obsessed moron who’s afraid of girls. That shit drives me crazy. It’s totally unrealistic.”
“Sure,” Vivik said, fumbling with his card key. “So, what do you want to watch?”
“I dunno. Something with zombies. And boobs.”
11
“You don’t want to?”
“No, I do, really.”
“You don’t seem like you do.”
Alex hesitated for a moment, and then he broke down and told her the truth. It seemed like the simplest thing to do.
“I’m a little worried that your sister might kill me,” Alex said, laughing nervously, but not at all joking. Emily laughed along with him as if it was funny.
“Don’t worry; she won’t do anything to you.” Emily paused, and then gave him a very fragile smile. “There will be other people there, so I don’t think your girlfriend will mind. You can even bring her, if you want to.”
Alex looked back down at his notes, as if they had something to tell him, some way to avoid the situation that he couldn’t see for himself. The pages in front of him remained mute on the subject.
“Assuming you mean Eerie, she’s not my girlfriend…”
“Assuming that I mean…” Emily imitated, rolling her eyes.
“She couldn’t come anyway. Eerie is grounded, and Rebecca is making her work in her office during non-class hours, and she had to do field-study in Central over break.”
“That’s terrible,” Emily said, with what he could only assume was false sympathy. The concern on her face looked genuine, but it couldn’t possibly be. “How lonely. Since you are free, then you should definitely come to my dinner party tomorrow. Wear something nice, okay?”
“There is no chance that boy owns even a single article of clothing that could be described as ‘nice’,” Anastasia said, walking to her seat, followed by a dour, fine-featured boy with muddy brown hair and an athlete’s build.
“I don’t have anything nice to wear,” Alex admitted. “Who’s your new lackey, Anastasia?”
“His name is Timor, and you are not obligated to act like a jerk all the time,” Anastasia said mildly, taking her usual seat, two rows up and dead center. Timor looked around for a moment before settling down one desk over from where Anastasia sat. “Don’t take Alex personally, Timor. He is simply deflecting a discussion of his own inadequacies in your direction.”
“I won’t,” Timor said, nodding and pulling out textbooks. “But, I am worried about where your class is in comparison with my old one was.”
“You’ll be fine,” Katya said, hustling in clutching a pastry and a steaming cup of coffee, bundled in a winter coat and scarf despite the fact that morning was no more than chilly. She set her leather bag down in the row behind Alex, putting her feet up right next to Vivik’s head. “It’s not bad. They aren’t so gifted. Plus, Mr. Windsor offered us tutoring if we need it.”
Emily looked from one new kid to the other slowly, with an uncertain expression. It was obvious from her reaction that she knew both Katya and Timor Zharova, at least by reputation, but that she hadn’t expected to see them here. Alex looked at the two in turn, apparently brother and sister, but he didn’t see much resemblance. Then a light bulb went off in his head.
“This is the gifted class?” Alex turned to Emily in astonishment. “Am I gifted?”
“Oh, God,” Anastasia said, making a choking, coughing noise.
“Well, there are three classes preparing for graduation next year, and this is the advanced course, so, yes, in a sense,” Emily offered hesitantly. “I think that has more to do with your protocol classification, and not nearly as much with your ability. I’ve seen your test results, and they are nothing to brag about…”
Emily trailed off as Grigori and Chandi arrived, entourage in tow, all eyes in the class immediately turning to them, excepting those of the unflappable Miss Martynova.
Grigori was even more imposing in the school uniform then he had been in street clothes. With broad shoulders and a barrel chest, he looked like a soldier attempting casual dress. His unruly brown hair was smoothed in a concession to civility, and his blunt hands protruded from the sleeves of an immaculate and undersized blazer. Next to him, Chandi Tuesday appeared demure and self-assured, riding along in the striking boy’s wake, looking at the class with cool, contemptuous eyes behind her round glasses. The kids following them were a mixed bag; two that Alex knew already, William and Choi, plus some Chinese kid he’d never met and a smiling, chubby girl. Grigori’s lip lifted in contempt when he saw Alex surrounded by Black Sun members, and Alex realized that in all probability, only Emily’s proximity redeemed the situation. He shifted in his seat closer to Emily, and she covered his hand protectively, moist with her own apprehension.
“Alexander Warner,” Grigori hissed. “You choose your company poorly.”
“Get fucked, okay?” Alex snapped back, aware that the entire class had stopped in shock, and that everyone was watching the exchange. He was angry enough that he didn’t care. “I put up with enough of that shit from Anastasia already. I’m not about to take it off you.”
Anastasia smiled as if she’d won a prize in a carnival game. Grigori was briefly appalled, then with a sort of inevitability, his face reddened with anger and his voice got hard.
“Don’t take that tone with me, boy,” Grigori warned, his bag clenched in his hands, tension highlighting the myriad of white scars on them. “You don’t want to do that. The last thing you need is to count me among your enemies.”
“Excuse me, Grigori?” Emily cut in smoothly, putting one hand protectively on Alex’s shoulder. “Could you please back off a little bit? Alex didn’t mean to be rude; he’s just had a difficult couple of days. He’s not himself this morning.”
Alex didn’t even notice that Emily had gone rigid with effort, her eyes glazed over as she looked in the direction of the angry Hegemony students. Anastasia noticed, however, and she gave Emily’s a very hard look before shifting her gaze over to Grigori, obviously fascinated. Grigori fumed a moment longer while Chandi looked confused and the rest of his group shifted nervously and exchanged worried glances, and then he stomped off, taking over one whole side of the classroom with his retinue.
“So many Russians all of a sudden,” Alex said loudly. “It’s like Red Dawn.”