It took about one more hour, but we were finally done.
After my training with Jensen, I didn’t expect that I could find a more gruelling teacher. Beatrice proved me wrong. Continuously testing my powers–using and reusing them on blocks of concrete and metal that Madame Where and Beatrice had brought over–was surprisingly tiring.
“I can only hope that this was a productive evening for all of you,” said Madame Where after we were done, “I noticed that you, Miser Ibrahim, were a bit sloppy. Miss Accardi and I will create a new schedule for you. I shall give you the update next week on our lesson.”
With that, we were dismissed. Beatrice went off with the professor–not before she not-so-subtly gestured from me to Maria–leaving me, Ahmed and Maria all alone.
“I have to leave you two alone, I’m afraid,” said Ahmed. “There’s some business I have to do. Think about the Society.” And with that, I was left alone with Maria.
I clenched my fists. The urge to just run was overwhelming once again. The scar from her face almost seemed to glow. I knew that Beatrice was right and that I had to talk to her. I had to talk to Maria.
I took a deep breath. “Listen-”
“I don’t want to hear it,” she said abruptly, before turning around to leave.
“Please,” I said. I sounded desperate. I didn’t want to, but that day was probably the second worst thing that happened to me. And when I thought about how bad it had likely been for Maria, the urge to run was even stronger.
“What?” She stopped. She didn’t turn around, but I took it as a good thing either way.
“I-I’m sorry. I mean-I’ve probably said it before, but-just-”
“You haven’t,” she said, and for a moment her voice softened. For only a moment. “But I have told you that I don’t want your pity. I don’t want anything to do with you. How hard is that to understand?”
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She was practically shouting at that moment. I took a step back. “I-I don’t-”
“You-”
“No,” I snapped at her and she flinched in response. “Just hear me out. I truly am sorry for what I did to you. It’s not out of pity, it’s not anything remotely. I don’t want us to be friends, or anything like that. I just-I want-I don’t know what I want.”
I practically whispered that last part out. What did I want? For Maria to forgive me? I knew that it was impossible. To not end up like Beatrice and regret that I didn’t speak up when I should?
“You know what I want?” whispered Maria. She finally turned around to face me. “I want to be able to look at your face without having nightmares. I want to stop feeling like everyone’s always staring at me.” She pointed to the scar in her face. “I want this to stop being there. Can you make any of that happen, γρόθε?”
I messed with the seams of my gloves. I didn’t have a response, I just looked down at my shoes.
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want that memory to ruin your life. I didn’t want high school to be like it was for you, even if I did contribute to it. I’m not that vindictive. So join the little club I’m in if you’d like. They’re good people–better than both of us. But I’m also not going to forgive you. I can’t forgive you.”
And with that, she walked away. But before I could even begin to process what she said, I felt him behind me. I didn’t know how I did. I turned around, and Paragon stood there. He was old and frail, like when he’d attacked me.
I could almost feel his hands on my neck.
“I think it’s time for this little charade of yours to end, Moros,” he said. He always sounded so sure of himself, but never arrogant. Whenever he said anything, it felt like he was on top of it, like he always knew the most about it.
“What-what do you want?” Twice in the same day, I didn’t run. I stood my ground against him.
“You really don’t know, do you?” he asked, sounding surprised for the first time. “Well, this ought to be interesting. I came to work out a deal, but it looks like it won’t take unfortunately. Remember, the fifth of December, and go to the Atlantis Library in the first mansion.”
And then he disappeared.