The Changeling (Book One of The Síofra Chronicles) (12 page)

She
held up a hand and sighed when she saw me open my mouth to fire back a retort.  "Don't even bother to argue.  I'm not here to lecture you about partying or drinking or taking narcotics or pills or whatever it is that you are doing.  We're both adults here, and I would prefer to skip past the denials and head straight into how to fix this before it’s too late."

I gaped.  Narcotics? Was she flipping kidding me? I'd never taken narcotics and I didn't drink. Maybe I wasn't focusing in class as much as I should be
, but that seemed like a bit of a leap, even to me.

"You started off the semester fantastically.  You were bright and alert in class, responsive to lectures
, and the work you submitted was excellent.  Over the last few weeks, however, your participation has decreased. You're spacing off in lectures.  Your last paper barely met the requirements for a C.  You can do so much better than you are doing now.  Where is the student who began the semester with me? The student who was alert and attentive and loved to learn?"

"I'm sorry," I said weakly. “I’ll do better.” 

She was right.  Ever since my birthday, I’d been so focused on what was going on with me personally that I'd let my schoolwork fall by the wayside.

"Sorry is not good enough without action to back it up,"
she said sternly.  "You are in danger of failing this course, Miss Marshall.  If you want to correct that, you need to show me that you are willing to do the work and start acting like an adult.  This is not high school, and you cannot let your personal life affect your academics."

I inhaled sharply and my vision clouded with angry tears.

"There's no need for that.”  She, reached on her desk for a box of tissues and nudged it toward me.  "There is a time to be childish and selfish in your pursuit of enjoyment, Miss Marshall, and a time to put aside those things to focus on your future.  Now, because I know that deep down you are a mature young woman who seems to have gotten off the right track, I will cut you a break.  I will give you the opportunity to rewrite and submit your last three papers. I need them back before Thanksgiving break begins.  If you can raise your grades on these assignments and if you can bring your assignments for the rest of term back to the quality that I expect from you, I believe that you may be able to raise your grade to standard and pass my class."

"Thank you," I
said, shamed to my core and wanting desperately to escape her confining little office.  I wasn't a claustrophobic, but I was sure that if I didn't get out of the tiny room soon I was going to hyperventilate.  "I promise I won't let you down again."

"See that you don't
." She handed me a folder containing my assignments.  "This is not an opportunity I usually extend to students, and I hope that you will not make me regret extending it to you. Remember, Miss Marshall, I need them before break and you need them done well."

I shoved the folder in my backpack and fled her office before
I cried and said something I would regret.  How could I have gotten so absorbed in what was going on in Otherworld that I'd let my schoolwork slide?  I still hadn't decided what I was going to do about my soul, and if I was going to stay a mortal, I
needed
my grades to stay on par so I could graduate and get a good job.  Not to mention what my parents would say if they found out. Imagining my mother’s reaction sent my heart rate rocketing with anxiety.

They would be so disappointed in me
, and that knowledge sent me into a fresh bout of tears.  They blurred my vision so completely that I didn't even see Dom standing in front of me until I bowled into him, knocking us both into the ground. Dom wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against his chest and twisting his body so that he took the brunt of the fall.

I looked up at him as we lay on the dirty floor, horrified
with embarrassment flooding my cheeks.  I could feel the blood draining from my face in mortification. 

"If you wanted to knock me off my feet
, you didn't have to be so literal about it," he chuckled, his breath tickling my face as we lay on the ground, his arms still wrapped tight around me.

I burst into tears and covered my face with my hands, not wanting him to see me like that.

"Hey now," he cooed, sitting up and pulling me into his lap in the middle of the hallway.  "Are you okay? Did you hurt anything?" He brushed my hands away from my face and wiped my cheeks with his thumb.  His eyes glowed with concern. 

"No," I sniffed as I scrambled to my feet, "I'm okay.  I'm sorry
. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going."

"Somehow I doubt that's what's making you cry
," he persisted, climbing to his feet.

"No not really," I admitted with a choked laugh. "I'm having a pretty crummy day. I overslept and my professor just accused me of being on drugs because
I'm not getting straight A's."

"Well that seems rather bitchy for a teacher but hardly a reason
to cry." He scowled at the professor’s door like he would love to tell her so to her face. 

I had no doubt that he would have
, given half the chance, and it lifted my spirits a little. I wish I'd had the nerve to call her out on her stupid assumptions and not cry like an idiot.

"I know," I frowned.  "I overreacted is
all. I know I'm not taking drugs and that she's being a jerk, but I can't help it.  I don't like people being disappointed in me, even when I'm not doing anything wrong."

Dom looked down at me, his eyes dark with concern before he pulled me into the circle of his arms, holding me tight against his chest.  I inhaled deeply, his unique smell soothing my injured pride.

"You want me to walk you back to your apartment?  Or do you have to work?"

I shook my head.  "I don't have to work today
, but no, I'd rather not go home.  I had a minor run-in with my roommate this morning too.  Not a fight. She just likes to mother me.  If she sees I've been crying, she'll sucker me into telling her what happened and then she's going to go on the warpath.  I think I’ll probably go hide out somewhere until I’m calmer."

He nodded and chewed his bottom lip as if considering something. 

"Well then that settles it, I guess," he said thoughtfully.  "You're going to have to come home with me."

"Huh?" I asked with confusion. “You don’t need to do that.  I can go hang out at the library or something. I don’t want to intrude on your personal space.”

"It wouldn’t be intruding,” he insisted. “You can't go home, so you might as well hang out at my place for a while.  I've got a decent movie collection and I can make us some dinner.  You haven't lived until you've had my ramen noodle soup."

I laughed in spite of myself. 
"Ramen soup huh? Really busting out the big guns there.  I can see you must be desperate to impress me with your mad culinary skills."

"It's a college staple," he
grinned.  "I'll even let you pick your flavor.  I've got shrimp, oriental,
and
beef flavors.  I don't like to brag, but what can I say.  I'm rolling in swag."

I chortled, feeling my spirits rising.  Hanging out at Dom's apartment wasn't exactly the greatest idea in the world while I was so confused about everything, but he made me laugh and I was still desperate for an escape from reality.

"Do you have any
Supernatural?"
I asked as I picked my bag up off the floor and swung it over my shoulder.

"No, but I've got something better," he grinned as he wrapped his arms around my shoulder and led me from the building.  "Netflix." 

Chapter Fourteen

I felt more relaxed than I had in weeks.  Dom and I were sprawled on his overstuffed couch, slurping bowls of ramen noodle soup and watching the Winchester brothers take out demons on Netflix. He hadn't been exaggerating about his abilities.  He demanded that I try crushed nacho-cheese-flavored tortilla chips on top of the noodles, and I had shared my firm belief that there wasn't any wrong that couldn't be righted with a
Supernatural
marathon.  Neither of us discussed my crappy day, and for that I was grateful. 

"Okay," I admitted, pushing my empty bowl on the table in front of me with a contented sigh. "You were right
. The crushed Doritos were perfect and the hot dogs added to the flavor.  You are the master ramen chef, and I promise to never call your mad skills questionable again. Becca would have a coronary if she saw what we were eating, and somehow that makes it even better"

He grinned at me and set his bowl next to mine.  "You should never doubt my prowess in the kitchen.  Just wait until I make you my
world-famous pancakes.  I put almond butter in the batter. They actually melt in your mouth."

"Okay, that sounds amazing, but I hate to break it to you
, Dom.  I don't foresee breakfast plans in our future." Not that we had much of a future—or a future at all if I chose to be a Fae.  A heavy weight settled in my stomach, resentment over the fact that I had to choose at all.

He leaned in toward me, his eyes twinkling wickedly, and I scooted back away from him, trying to keep a respectable distance between us.  Undeterred, he kept pressing forward until I was pressed against the back of the couch while he hovered over me.

"I'm hoping that eventually I'll convince you to spend the night with me." He beamed at me. "And since I'm not the ‘hit 'em and quit 'em’ type, breakfast is part of the package deal."

My eyes widened and my jaw dropped.  Spend the night with him? We'd had
, like, one date. Two if you counted coffee.  The train to Ho-bagville didn't run as fast as he thought it did.

"Um," I sputtered, "
the chances of that happening are slim to none, so...um....maybe you should just give me the recipe..." My face flushed with embarrassment.

Dom flashed a grin and leaned even closer. 

"It's my mom’s secret recipe. If I gave it to you, I'd have to kill you. But I'm not in any rush, Cassie," he said, his lips hovering over mine. "You're worth waiting for." 

"About that," I
said hesitantly.  "I think we need to talk."

"Oh
." Dom sat back, his eyes sparking and flashing in surprise.  "That can't be good.  Nothing good ever started with 'we need to talk.'"

"The gold in your eyes is bright today," I said, distracted by the tawny gold ring.  I watched as they flared slightly and then faded, the blue suddenly dominant.  I
blinked and they looked normal again.

"Maybe it's because I want to kiss you until you forget what it was you wanted to talk about," he said, bringing his hands up to tangle in my hair as he rested his forehead against mine and closed his eyes, breathing deeply

My heart beat wildly, and I thought of Aleksander, of his clear green eyes and the heat I felt whenever he touched me. I needed to say what I felt and be done with it.

"Please don't," I pleaded softly, closing my eyes against the unreasonable tears I could feel building.  "This is hard enough as it is.  Please don't make it harder."

"Cassie." He sounded surprised, his voice thick with emotion as he pulled away. "Did I do something wrong?  Whatever it is, I'm sorry.  Please stop crying."

My eyes flew open and guilt raged through my chest.  "No," I
denied, shaking my head vehemently. "No, you're perfect.  This isn't a you thing."

He laughed without a hint of amusement in his voice.  "It's not you, it's me? Really?"

Oh I was making such a mess of things. I wiped the tears off my face, angry with myself for crying in the first place.

"No. Yes. I don't know. I like you, I do. I love spending time with you. You're funny and you make me laugh and you get me out of my own head and I'm terrified of losing that. But I'm not ready for whatever this is. I think you were right about
my needing to take things slow. Like, glacial slow or let’s-work-on-being-friends-first slow."  A tear slid down my cheek, and I stared at my hands, feeling like a world-class jerk. 

"Hey," he
said, lifting my chin with his thumb and forcing me to look into his eyes.  "It's okay.  I told you that you were worth waiting for and I meant it.  I'll take what I can get, and if that means going slow and taking our time, then that's okay."  He pulled me into his chest, his arms wrapping around me, and somehow he was soothing me.

"I'm sorry
." I felt horrible again. I knew that this wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but it was the best I could do.  I didn’t want to lose him, but I didn’t want to encourage him while I was so uncertain either.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," he said quietly. "I can do the friend thing.
For now.  I meant it, Cassie. I'll wait until you're ready, whatever you're ready for.  But I'm not going to give up. So we can go as slow as you need to for however long it takes. You are something amazing, and I’m not going to rush it and risk losing you."

He was amazing
, and I didn’t deserve him. 

“Thanks,” I
said, pressing my lips to his cheek. 

“Don’t thank me
, Cassie,” he smiled.  “I’m in this for me too, you know.  Let’s finish watching the show.”

I nodded and tucked my head against his chest, selfishly letting him hug me and wishing I could figure out what I wanted and be decisive about it. Instead
, Dom pushed play on his remote and I curled up on his couch with my head in his lap and pretended to watch another episode of
Supernatural
when, in reality, I was castigating myself for being too selfish to let Dom go completely.

I stayed for another hour watching television with Dom until my nagging conscious and his silence became too oppressive and I made my excuses to leave.  He hugged me tightly and reiterated his intent to wait for me, brushing his lips lightly across mine.  No matter how pleasant it was
, there was no fire there and it made me sad that the one thing that should have been so easy for me wasn’t. 

I dragged myself home and went straight to my room, not in the mood to rehash my day with Becca.  She knew something was up as soon as I walked in the door and she saw my red swollen eyes and my
tear streaked cheeks.  She was convinced that Dom had done something to hurt me and threatened all kinds of creatively violent retribution. I shook my head at her, told her Dom hadn't done anything, and begged for a few hours to myself.  She agreed after I glared at her, but I had the distinct feeling she was humoring me.  I couldn't hole up in my room forever. I would eventually have to tell her what I had done and hoped that she could help me to untangle myself from the seemingly impossible situation I had created.

Locking myself in my room
, I powered up my laptop and got to work trying to fix my essays.  Professor Davies had been right to grade them so poorly.  It wasn't like me to put in so little effort on an assignment, but that was exactly what I had done.  So not only was my personal life a shambles, my academic life was as bad, and both situations were entirely of my own making.

I buried my face in my hands and let the tears fall from my cheeks.  I didn't like the new weepier me
, and I inhaled deeply,  resolving to stop being such a victim.  I had created my messes and I would clean them up.  Starting with my homework.  It was easier to redo a paper than it was to figure out a muddled love life, so I dove right in, trying to make sense of the travesty that was my essay on fate and free will in Elizabethan literature.

Several hours later
, I came up for air, starving and nursing the beginnings of a headache.  Too many tears had been spilled that day to think that I could escape without a monster headache brewing.  I rummaged in the medicine cabinet for a bottle of aspirin and went to find Becca.  I couldn't tell her everything, but Becca knew me better than anyone. She would know how to fix my messed up pseudo-relationship with Dom, and I hoped that this time she wouldn't push me to patch things up with him.  I couldn't force an emotion to exist by force of will. Not even a will as strong as Becca's.

Becca was sitting on the couch watching television
, and to my surprise, Miguel was in chair next to her, Ray on the floor between his legs.  I frowned at the three of them.  Becca had that tight line to her mouth that said she was about to go full-on mother hen and there was no stopping her.

"Oh
,
mija,
you look awful," Miguel crooned as he jumped out of the chair and hugged me tightly.

I stood awkwardly, disgusted with him and glaring.
"You look great too, Miguel," I retorted.  "Appreciate the confidence booster. I'd ask you what you and Ray were doing here on a date night but something tells me I already know."

I shot Becca a dirty look and she
stared back, denying nothing. 

"Breakups require commiseration and ice cream and chick flicks, in whatever order you feel like.  That's what friends are for
, Cass.  You've done it for me often enough."  She held her arms out to me, and my lip trembled, overwhelmed by the magnitude of my love for my friends.

“I didn’t break things off with Dom exactly,” I admitted
, and Becca clapped her hands excitedly.  “I asked him to take things slow and work on being just friends for now and see where it goes later.”

“Good!” Becca cheered.  “I should have warned him you’re like a skittish colt.  One wrong move and you’ll bolt.”

I glared at her.  “That’s not true.  Okay, that’s kind of true, but still. Whose side are you on?”

“His,” all three of them trilled at the same time
, and I picked up a throw pillow from the couch and tossed it at them. 

“You guys are sucky friends.”

“We’re great friends,” Miguel grinned and nodded at Ray.

"We brought you some stuff," Ray said quietly, handing me a white shopping bag. 

I arched a brow at him and took the bag, an involuntary laugh escaping when I saw its contents.  Miguel and Ray had bought me a pair of fuzzy pink pajama pants, a teddy bear, and a flash drive.  I held up the flash drive and gave them a questioning look.

"It's a
breakup angry-girl mix," Ray explained. "Becca said you had a breakup and we figured you can't have a proper breakup pity party without Alanis Morissette and Adele.  And there's a gallon of Moose Tracks ice cream in the fridge.  Miguel said it was your favorite."

"It is," I
smiled..  "Thanks, you guys. You didn't have to do this."

"Of course we did," Miguel
said.  "How many times have you done this for Becca?  Or me?  You sat through two Tyler Perry movies and
Waiting to Exhale
with me last time I had a bad breakup.  The least I can do is bring you some ice cream and re-watch a few seasons of
Supernatural
with you."

Score more points for my human life.  I crawled on the couch and leaned my head on Becca’s shoulder.  I’d be lost without my friends
, and the more I realized that, the sadder I became.