Van’s expression darkened, “That’s a pretty serious accusation, Princess.”

The other just shrugged. “I’m used to stuff like that.” His gaze turned to the balcony and the school grounds. “Evan is the only person who’s never laid a finger on me. Never said anything terrible. Never called me names, or hit me…” he muttered some other things under his breath, trailing off and not wanting to say more.

Van’s lips parted in horror. His hearing was better than Alexander had anticipated. Goosebumps ran up his arms and he unconsciously rubbed them and shivered despite the warmth of the room.

“And now, here I am, thousands of kilometers away, across an ocean at a school I don’t even want to go to, with a witch curse slowly cooking me from the inside out,” Alexander scoffed.

For the first time in his life, Van was speechless.

Alexander shook his head.

“Princess, everything you just said…” Van began.

“Forget it, it’s in the past,” Alexander replied stiffly. He set his bags beside himself and started unpacking—an old laptop, phone, and sketch books from his messenger bag along with his wallet, a few everyday items, and a balled up windbreaker. From his backpack, he pulled an old, black knit sweater and a matching black t-shirt—these items had been given to him by Erik that morning—along with a few books, an ablutions kit, and his old greying jeans he had changed out of in place of his uniform. The last thing he extracted was a small photo frame of a himself and a petite woman together in front of a couple of tents. Her long platinum blond hair and large icy-blue eyes gave her an ethereal fey-like appearance. This, he carefully, almost reverently, set on the desk next to the head of his bed. As he looked at it, the faintest tinge of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips and eyes.

“Is that Evan?” Van asked, striding over to the desk.

“Don’t touch it!” Alexander hissed as Van reached out for the photo.

“Woah, Princess, I’m not going to break it,” Van said, but still backed off when he saw Alexander bristling again. He sighed, shook his head in dismay, and pulled out the desk chair to take a seat. “Look, Princess, I’ve got things to do tonight still, but tomorrow Nana and I can take you into town and show you around, we’ll get you some bedding and clothes then, alright?”

The tips of Alexander’s ears turned pink and he fidgeted with a strap-end on his backpack, “I-I don’t have any money,” he said after a moment.

At that, Van smiled and pulled out his phone, opening an app. “Lemme see your student card,” he said.

Alexander recoiled a bit, but meeting Van’s gaze briefly, slowly handed his card over. “I don’t understand you…” he muttered.

Van pressed Alexander’s card to his phone, reading the information that came up. “Not many people do,” Van mused. “Looks like Evan’s got you covered,” he added, showing his phone screen to Alexander. “The school app allows you to scan your card to see how much money you have attached to it. Evan seems to have you on the credit system.”

“I shouldn’t spend her money…” Alexander muttered after a moment of surprise.

“Would she like it if you slept on a bare mattress, Princess?” Van pointed out.

“N-no, she wouldn’t.”

“Exactly,” Van nodded sagely. “If you’re worried, consult with her first—let her know what happened here. I’m sure she’ll understand.” He glanced at the photo, “She seems to really care about you.”

“As if you can tell that from one picture,” Alexander scoffed.

Van stood, tucked the chair in and then leaned in close to Alexander, flicking his forehead, “I’m really really good at reading people, Princess,” he winked, straightening up again. “Your door automatically locks behind you, so don’t leave without your card. There are showers and washrooms on every floor across from the staircase. Emergency exits are at either end of the building—there’s one just across the hall from your room,” he informed. Van withdrew a business card from his wallet and placed it on the desk. “If you need anything, Princess, feel free to send me an email or text me. As a student liaison, it’s my job to make sure you’re taken care of—but also,” he locked eyes with Alexander again who looked up as his voice turned serious, “My dad is a cop. If anything happens, or someone hurts you, I want you to come to me right away, got it?”

Alexander looked away uncertainly, “I-I don’t want to cause trouble,” he mumbled, his hands balling up in his lap. “I don’t like inconveniencing people.”

“It’s more inconvenient if you keep that stuff to yourself, Evans.”

Alexander looked up at Van again at the use of his name. It was the first time he hadn’t called him by that stupid title.

Van put his hand on Alexander’s shoulder, “If someone’s willing to hurt a nice kid like you, they’re going to do it to someone else too. There’s a difference between being a victim and being a survivor, Princess.” Van gave Alexander’s shoulder a reassuring pat, “I have to get back to class now. You’re off for the rest of the day to recuperate from your travel. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning for class at eight-forty-five. Kay?”

Alexander made a noise of uncertainty before simply nodding numbly.

“Great, see ya tomorrow morning then, Princess,” Van winked, reaching to ruffle Alexander’s bangs reassuringly, but the other recoiled instinctively, fear flashing across his face. “Ahh…ha…” Van pulled back with a soft, nervous chuckle, “Right, sorry,” he said softly, dropping his hand. When Alexander didn’t say anything and kept his gaze averted, Van shook his head and left, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Once Alexander heard the door to his room close, he flopped over backwards onto his bed, legs dangling off the side, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling. He brought up his bandaged arm, laying it across his eyes. Even through the layers, his face felt cool against the constant prickling burn—and ever since he and Van had stepped out of the school building, it had been feeling hotter and hotter.

Alexander slowly took in a deep breath, letting it out at the same pace. He did this a few more times, just taking in the sounds of the building and the noises of the city and campus outside. “Don’t be afraid,” he muttered softly to himself. He lay there another few minutes, slowly beginning to pant. He could feel beads of sweat forming on his neck and back.

Alexander sat up, gripping the edge of his mattress as he leaned forward, feeling dizzy and hot, a bead of perspiration dripping off his chin. He needed to cool off, he thought, looking uncertainly to the window and balcony.

He stood unsteadily and trudged to the balcony door, pulling open the screen to step out into the late September morning wind. He drew in the cool air slowly in a deep breath, reveling in its low temperature. He held it in a moment then let it out in one puff—instantly feeling much better. The view from his balcony faced in a south-westerly direction, and even though the school was closer to the north-western side of the crescent, its placement a little higher against the cliff-side gave it a nice view of the ridge, bay, and the city’s largest park.

Alexander stood there, taking in the view—a sea of trees tinged red and gold, but mostly still a deep green. It was only higher up on the cove’s ridge where it was cooler that the trees had turned further—mostly already a drab yellow and brown. He looked down to the school’s entrance where a low stone wall separated the grounds from the street. Something bothered Alexander. The prickling in his arm returned with a vengeance, and so did the overwhelming heat. He felt like he had a thousand eyes on him. He felt nauseas—like he had stage-fright, but a million times worse. His vision stretched into a long tunnel, and somewhere in his blur, he saw a man leaning against one of the entrance plinths, glancing suspiciously into the school grounds.

Alexander gasped, stumbling back against the wall, gripping his bandages so hard that they started to bleed through. Pain seared through him. His skin felt like it was melting under the bandage. He slumped against the wall, sinking down against the concrete, fighting the urge to scream. Alexander had recognized that old brown tweed jacket the man wore. It was the same as the witch. He had to call someone, call for help, but the only person that came to mind was Evan.

“E-Evan,” Alexander panted, gasping for air. It felt like his lungs were on fire. He tried to turn, to crawl into the room, but only slumped over against the glass, his vision going black.