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Boy on my Bed

When I wake up again the sky outside is considerably darker. I look down at Grandma Elisabeth’s small golden watch on my wrist. It’s barely 10 o’clock, and my brain is fried. I close the books and go down to the librarian’s desk.

“Did you find what you were looking for dear?” It’s the night librarian at the desk now.

“Yeah, almost. Can I leave the books at the desk, I’ll be back tomorrow morning.”

“Sure dear, as long as it’s tidy up there.” I nod and make my way back up to my room and bed.

I open the door to my room and kick off my shoes. I just want to throw myself down on the bed and... I lift my head and see Mr. Tardy sitting there.

“What are…” In a heartbeat, he’s left the bed and is standing inches from me. With one hand he covers my mouth, the other he uses to close the door behind me.

“Not a word,” he whispers. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest and I meet his eyes. There’s no red in them this time, but I still wouldn’t mess with him. It’s been almost a week since the money incident, and to be honest I haven’t spoken a word to him since, and he seemed to prefer it that way. I’ve caught him sneaking hateful glances at me in class from time to time, but I’ve been too busy to deal with it. In all fairness, busy might mean scared in this case.

He holds my stare without blinking. I feel the panic build up, but his hand prevents me from breathing in deeply. I close my eyes and force myself to think rationally. I can always move him. In the worst case scenario, I can hang him out to dry from the window. It might not be the best solution, or the kindest one, but it’s a safety net. I open my eyes and meet his again. He smiles at me. He can tell. He can tell I came up with an emergency plan. I must look ridiculous to him, the perfect Langdale girl, scared to death over a guy who has shown no proof of powers in any class. Of course, neither has professor Holt, and he’s pretty strong. I hear steps in the hallway and feel his grip tighten. For the first time he breaks eye contact, and I can feel him tense up. I listen too. I listen to the footsteps stop just outside and knock on the door across from mine. He relaxes and looks back at me.

“Not a word,” he repeats. Something in his hunched over posture makes me feel almost sorry for him. His shoulders are tense and pulled forward to ward off attacks to the heart. I meet his eyes again and nod. He looks down at me and the stone face turns confused. I lift up my hand and place it over his on my mouth. He doesn’t let go, he stays exactly as he has been from the start but turns his gaze back to the door. I hear it too, the footsteps move to my door, and someone knocks. I look at him until he agrees to meet my eyes. Whoever is out there knocks again. His eyes dart away but come back again. I put a little more weight on his hand, trying to move it. He agrees this time, probably due to the second repeating of the knock. I move a little away from the door, hovering over the floor so as to not make a sound.

“What is it?” I called out in as annoyed a voice as I can manage. I have never been the best actress.

“Miss Langdale, can we come in?” I look around, wondering what they want, and what it has to do with Mr. Tardy.

“Why?” And more importantly is it something I would agree with?

“Please open the door, Miss Langdale.” I make a hush signal to Mr. Tardy and lift him off the ground and put him in the empty closet meant for the roommate I don’t have. He clearly doesn’t understand what I’m up to, but he doesn’t say a word - then again, if he did it would be only too clear that he’s in here. I move over and open the door.

“What?” I ask. One of the suit guys is out there along with someone vaguely familiar - some teacher I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting personally. My annoyance is real now, I don’t like those suit guys.

“We need to look around your room,” suit guy informs me.

“Why?”

“We have a missing student, we fear he may be hiding in one of the dorms.”

“So you’re going to search every dorm room? What gives you the right to do that?”

“Miss Langdale, please understand,” the woman tells me. “This boy is dangerous if you’ve seen him you need to tell us. He’s tall, has long dark hair, and his clothes never really fit him properly. I think he might be in your class, his name is Boy?” His name is Boy? That’s cruelty on a whole new level.

“He’s the rude one, the one who never talks to anyone except to insult them.”

“Yes, that’d be him.”

“And you lost him?”

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“He got away from us, yes.”

“See, that sounds kind of funny to me. As far as I have understood the classes he attends are voluntary, he’s not obligated to show up.” She seems as if she’s about to say something, so I hurry on. “Furthermore, your prison guard, what was it, Joseph? He seems fairly adept at making people do as you please. How did a single guy manage to escape you, and why is it so important for you to find him that you’d be willing to search 800 dorm rooms?”

“Boy has other obligations here besides his classes, and he hasn’t been seen the past two days.” I’ve been in the library instead of classes, so I wouldn’t know.

“Why does that concern me?”

“We just need to make sure he’s not hiding in here, then we’ll be out of your hair again. It will only take two minutes.”

“Yeah, sure, except, well, the things is, you kind of ruined my life. You pulled me away from my family, you pulled me away from everyone I’d ever known, everyone I’ve ever cared about, and what you gave me in return was a fortress that seems able to keep me, and only me, in the place you decided I belong; and a friend who turned out to be a traitor. Truth is, I don’t like you very much, so when you knock on my door with the opportunity to make your life miserable, you better believe I will jump at it. You might think this is a two-minute job, but if you want to steal my life and do away with privacy, or even the human decency of asking politely instead of demanding, you will have to see if you can get past me first. If you really have such a strong desire to look through my underwear drawer I suggest you go get your bulldog, I’m not giving you anything you want voluntarily.” They look at each other and try to peep in and see if they can see anything.

“I suggest you go get the bulldog, seeing as he’s hiding in the closet. It would be so embarrassing to be the ones to miss him, seeing as he’s so important to you.”

“He’s dangerous. If you know where he is, you should tell us now.”

“Sock drawer. It was a tight fit, but he’s so skinny I just managed to get him in there.”

“This is not a joking matter, Miss Langdale.”

“No, you’re right, it’s not. But you know what else isn’t a joking matter? Kidnapping. Imprisonment. Brainwashing.” She turns away and indicates for the suit to follow before I can get really into it. “See you next time you screw up,” I call after them and close the door. Mr. Tardy steps out of the closet, and I signal for him to remain quiet. We both wait, listening to the steps move on to the next room. I turn on the TV and put a random DVD on - they don’t get a signal here, any kind of signal. There are 16 rooms in this hallway, and we wait for them to pass through all of them and move on to the next hallway. They don’t spend two minutes in each room, I think they pretty much just look under the beds and in the closets, check the bathrooms maybe. It doesn’t seem like anyone else objects to their search. I take a seat on the bed and indicate to the other. He shakes his head and remains standing, towering over me. I shake my head and watch Much Ado About Nothing. Tate and Tennant are brilliant together, enough to make even me smile despite exhaustion and irritability.

“Why did you do that?” he demands after half an hour of intense listening. “Why didn’t you give me up?”

“Did you want me to?” He doesn’t answer, he just stares at me. “You seemed scared. I didn’t want to hand you over to whatever was powerful enough to scare you.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I know you’re confident you could take me in a fight, and I haven’t seen anything to suggest you’d be mistaken in that. Whatever it is you’re hiding from I’m not going to hand you over to it unless I know you deserve it.”

“You should call them back then.”

“And take your word for it? I like to judge things for myself.”

“That’s going to get you hurt,” he predicts. His father’s accusation of murder echoes in the air. What could make grown people treat a boy like this? I’m certain he’s past 20, but the way he looks, his willingness to believe what others say about him, there’s something boyish in that.

“What’s life without a little pain,” he looks at me as if I’m a masochist. “I mean… I didn’t… I meant taking chances, allowing yourself the possibility of getting hurt because it’s worth it sometimes.” He just shakes his head and takes a seat on the windowsill. He doesn’t speak again, he just stays there, looking out. An hour later someone knocks on the door again.

“Trust me?” I mime at him. His expression doesn’t change, he still looks as if I’m the stupidest person he’s ever met. I open the window as quietly as I can and lift him up again. When I try to move him out of the window he grabs a hold though. I attempt my best impersonation of mother scolding Hale and look at him like the impossible man-child he is and force his hands open. I place him just below the windowsill on the outside and open the door. This time they brought the bulldog.

“He’s in the tea kettle,” I tell them and turn around to fetch it. “Oh, that’s right, I don’t have a tea kettle, I never needed my own when I had a family.”

“Do we need to force our way in, or will you oblige with our search.” Question is more if I can hold Mr. Tardy and have Joseph mess with my head at the same time. I decide the best thing to do would be to get him someplace safer instead. “I’ve already told you, he’s in the box under the bed, you don’t need to look for him.” I move him a little to the side, clearing him of the window, and then up to the roof as fast as I can. Hopefully, he won’t think I’m trying to kill him or anything.

“Miss Langdale, we don’t want to do this, given…” She hesitates. “Given everything.”

“Given my lineage?” I place him carefully in the tower and linger for a second to make sure he is safe there.

“We don’t want trouble, we just want to run this school like it was supposed to be run.”

“Are you asking my permission? That’s something that’s never going to happen. But then again, I suppose pissing off a Langdale isn’t at the top of your Christmas list.” That doesn’t stop her though. With a signal from her, Joseph turns his eyes to me, and the headache starts. I feel my head becoming heavier, denser, as if it’s made out of stone. I know what comes next; the feeling of colliding headfirst with something even denser and heavier. I brace myself, and I do everything I can to maintain eye contact with the bulldog. I feel my knees growing weaker, and I feel my neck tensing. He’s not going to break me. He’s not going to bring me to my knees again. My neck aches with the weight of my head. I’m stronger than him, he’s not going to break me. I keep his gaze. I keep my head up. I keep my balance. It all turns dark, and something hits my face.