I went to Saint Serenity’s without thinking, too wrapped up in my Uncle’s sudden harsh attitude to even realize it until I was standing at the school’s steps. I knew if I went in I’d be welcomed. Brother Franklin would smile at me and sign hello, and ask if I was looking for someone or if I just wanted to see the schedule. Professor Matthews would probably be in the library, muttering over test scores, and ask if I wanted to join her for lunch.
That sort of positive attitude felt toxic at the moment. If I faced that sort of smiling, happy joy I might actually break down and start crying. I needed someplace quiet to gather my thoughts and my spine.
I redirected myself to the courtyard. There were a few students out studying, but it wasn’t the sort of infectious good mood I was avoiding, and since it was Sunday there wasn’t a crowd. Everyone was wrapped up in their own little worlds, noses in books or swaying to the beat of their headphones.
I didn’t have my charger. At this point my phone might be useless, unless I could get someone to loan me their cord for a bit. And even that would only work out if John hadn’t already called to have my plan canceled. It would still work on wi-fi, but it wouldn’t have service anywhere else and it wouldn’t get any calls.
Stop panicking, I told myself. Breathe.
It wasn’t a good sign when you had to tell yourself to do something as automatic as breathing. That was something babies managed.
Concrete tasks were easier to deal with, so I looked through my bag to assess what I had with me: some underwear, a shirt, a few books, and a single sock. Not even a complete change of clothes. I had a little bit of change in my pockets, along with my ID and bank card, but that was it. My bank account was pretty depleted, too. They weren’t the kind of supplies that were going to last me for very long. People were going to notice if I only ever wore two shirts, not to mention the challenge of laundry. I didn’t have anything to wear while I washed my clothes, so that was going to be a juggling act all by itself.
I could try going back to the house later. John would make some unreasonable demand, I wouldn’t be able to meet it, but the girls would be there and he might let me stay just so he didn’t have to explain. Things would be normal. Maybe.
Was I still being a child? I was over 30, and I used to think that was so old. People at that age were married, successful, and called their mothers once a week at most. They didn’t still live at home, and they didn’t run away from their soulmate.
What did Tyr think of me? I looked at my wrist and the words still seemed to be black under the purple-green mess of a bruise my sleeve barely covered. I slid it back down so no one would notice. The words were dark, at least. Was that because I didn’t want to reject him? Or was he not really my match? If he knew I was now basically homeless, would he think I was pathetic? Helpless? I was a leech, going from one provider to another without ever surviving on my own. It was ridiculous.
“Ash?”
I looked up and saw Professor Carols standing across from me, her bag over one shoulder like she was leaving. She probably was.
“Hi,” I signed to her.
“Hi,” she said back in a soft voice. “Are you okay?”
I nodded my head. “Didn’t sleep well last night,” I signed.
She smirked. “Not well, or not much? I hear there was a Ball, and I know how much those fascinate you.”
I gave a small smile. “Bit of both, I guess.”
“You look like someone who really needs a cup of hot cocoa, but I’m on my way into town. Someone has a rush emergency translation so I need to see what’s going on. Will you still be here when I get back?” She glanced at her watch and I hoped I wasn’t making her too late.
I shrugged to answer her question. “Maybe. I’ve got some things I need to do, but I’m okay, really. Go see who needs help.”
“Are you sure?”
I smiled at her, then used her favorite phrase: “Right as rain.”
She smiled back, too rushed to see the lie for what it was. “We’ll rain check that cocoa, then,” she said. “You’ve got the school’s number - text us if something’s wrong, okay? Or just go inside.”
“I will,” I signed back to her. Another lie. “Go. Some poor guy is probably pacing a hole in the floor because no one will tell him what ‘hi’ means.”
She laughed at that. “You’re probably right. Bye, Ash.”
“Bye.”
That hadn’t gone as bad as I expected. My gut was churning with hunger, not anxiety, and there wasn’t a tight knot between my shoulders threatening to make a headache. My wrist still ached, but it was covered by my shirt. Professor Carols hadn’t noticed, so that meant I was hiding it well enough not to be a problem. I could do this. I could go to the club, get my phone, and make something work with Mr. Redbird. I might even be able to see Mr. Prince if he happened by the area.
The club would still be slow for a few hours yet, and I could walk there and save the bus fare. If I walked slow enough, I might not sweat through my shirt, either. Because my first task was to get my duffel with the phone and my tux, then return the outfit. Then I was going to ask Mike if I could sleep on his couch, and while he worked I was going to go to Redbird’s and beg for my job back. If I was lucky, I’d have time to visit the library and start hunting apartments. I had a plan.
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