Chapter Text
The arm that pulled my hand off my scalding forehead twists and I topple onto my side instead of the too-tightly-packed fetal position I had been sitting in with my back against the pedestal and my knees all the way into my chest.
I look up with an expletive on my tongue but a hand covers my eyes as it checks my forehead’s temperature.
“Garrick— Stop! What the—”
“Xaden?! What happened?” It’s not Garrick’s voice that answers, though when the hand moves it is his face I see hovering above me. I blink hard and try to rectify that reasoning, when Soleil’s pale face and rosy cheeks come into view. Her hands are as cold as mine are, which is almost supernaturally cold, but they feel good as she cups the sides of my face. I’d move so as not to give her any ideas of false pretenses, but I’m not even sure I can.
Garrick is looking at me like he can look through me, his brow scrunched in concern and concentration.
I swallow and look him in the eye. “M’okay,” I say, the words not as convincing as I’d like.
“I know you are,” he mumbles, mouth turning into a straight line as he searches my features.
Okay, that’s it.
I brace myself on the marble floor and scoot back, sitting up rather hastily. In my haste, I knock my already pounding head on the pedestal that holds the dragon statue.
Gods. What-the-f**k-ever. I honestly can’t be anything but indifferent towards my own stupidity. It’s clearly my own fault.
Garrick senses my disdain for this position and means to offer me a hand.
Means to?
He stands up and offers me… a hand.
Wait a minute. I could tell he was going to do that before he…
Well, I guess it’s obvious that that would be his next move. He’s my best friend; he knows I don’t like to be the center of attention. At least in this way. And anyone would offer their friend a hand up.
“C’mon, you’re gonna miss that squad thing in the library.” Garrick winks so Soleil can’t see as he pulls me up to standing. He claps me on the shoulder and nods to Soleil as he leads the way out of the little corner and across the rotunda. When he’s sure Soleil isn’t looking, we turn to head towards the hidden tunnel to the flight field.
“What the f*** was that?” Garrick asks.
I lean my head against the tunnel wall and close my eyes, the cool stone providing sweet relief.
“I don’t know,” I admit. It’s true, technically. I don’t know what made me pass out and lose all semblance of time awareness.
“Well you f**king scared me, man!” Garrick runs a hand through his short hair and backs up, leaning against the other wall. I nod with a gulp, not really sure of the right response to that.
Garrick shakes his head and lets out a wry laugh.
After a tense second or two, in which I try to decide what to do, and Garrick seems to realise that Im not going to elaborate on my experiences today, I push off the wall and head over to him, a ploy in my head. I pat his shoulder, making myself appear as if I am just doing so as a salutation before I depart.
“I’m fine, babe.” I joke, smirking before pushing him over as hard as I can so he stumbles. I sprint off down the hall back towards the door we came from before he regains his balance.
“What? Nuh-uh!” He contests, sprinting after me. I throw up a wall of shadows and he bangs into it, falling back right on his ass. I actually have to stop running to double over laughing.
“Hey! Not fair! Not fair at all!” He yells.
When I stand up again I flash him a smile, but it’s short lived. Within a second, my feet are swept out from under me by an unnaturally powerful gust of wind and I’m knocked on my back, ironically getting the wind totally knocked out of me.
Garrick throws back his head laughing when I meet his eye as I roll over, struggling to get a real breath in and kindly showing him my middle finger.
…,,,…
We get cursory glances from Emery and Nyra and a couple of others in Fourth as we rejoin them in the commons hall for dinner. When we sit down, next to each other, as we pretty much always do, Mason raises an eyebrow at Garrick. He returns the look with an expression of confusion that could easily be misinterpreted as frustration. Mason bites his lip and turns to Cianna, whispering something.
Only then do I realize that both of us are covered in the same unusually black dirt that’s clearly from the same place, both have mussed up hair, and I have dusty fingerprints on my face. Well… I guess this is how rumors start.