"Avalon!" She stands up to welcome me but freezes halfway out of her seat when my shadow pushes the door open even further and strides in. Ms. B seems to catch herself staring and quickly shakes off the surprise. "W-welcome," she stutters out, throwing a hand towards the chairs in front of her desk. "Won't you take a seat?"
I drop into one of the overstuffed chairs and cross my arms over my chest as I lean back and glare over her head. She retakes her seat, eyes shooting to Abel. Unsurprisingly, she doesn't ask him to leave. Abel is, after all, practically the son of her bosses. Fucking rich people.
"Thank you for coming," Ms. Bairns's begins as she starts restacking the papers she'd dropped and shuffles a few of them to the side. "I was worried when you didn't show up for your last appointment, but I'm glad you're here now."
I don't comment, and she sighs as she pulls a small folder from beneath the mess even as she continues the attempt to tidy up. "Okay, well, let's just go ahead and jump into it, shall we?" This time, she's smart enough not to expect an answer. The only reason I'm even here today is because her last email had a more desperate edge concerning the possibility of me taking on a scholarship. I'm honestly just waiting for her to bring that up again. My eyes cut to Abel. I wonder if she will with him in the room.
"I'm concerned about some missed classes," Ms. B states, glancing from the file in her hand to me. "How have you been? Adjusting well?"
"Everything's been just peachy," I say sarcastically, shooting Abel a glare as I do so. The corner of his mouth tips up, but other than that one small movement, it's as if he's pretending he's not even here. God, I really wish that were true. I'm getting tired of feeling like I constantly have a guard dog on me at all times.
"Right." Ms. B ignores my tone and continues on. "Well, I have to say that despite the few absences—your grades are impeccable. I'm not surprised. I was sure you'd be able to adapt well to the academic expectations here." She shoots me a beaming smile, but I feel like doing anything but smiling back.
"Is that it?" I ask. "You wanted to ask about the absences and tell me about my grades?"
Ms. Bairns's smile droops and, once again, her eyes dart to the man sitting to my right. She clears her throat. "Actually, no, I was wondering if you'd had a chance to think any more about that proposal I mentioned to you before," she says, lowering her voice and leaning forward.
My lips press together as I turn my head to the side, avoiding her gaze as I scan the room. Floor to ceiling bookshelves packed with volumes that look like they've been there since this building was built. Dust coats the front of the shelves, telling me they're just there for decoration. What a fucking pity.
"I'm still thinking," I say after a long moment.
"I honestly think it would be a great opportunity for you, Avalon," Ms. B presses.
When I glance back at her, I notice that Abel's head is turned towards me. Oh, he pretends like he's looking at the bookshelf just as I was, but every few seconds, his eyes flick towards Ms. B and then to me. On the second pass, he realizes that I'm watching him and our eyes lock. I keep them like that as I reply to Ms. Bairns's words.
"I told you I'm still thinking," I say. "I haven't made a decision yet."
"But you promise to give it careful consideration?"
Abel arches a brow at me. I shake my head and pull my attention away, leveling it back on her. "Yeah, sure." I get up from the chair. "Are we done?"
"Um..." Ms. B hurries to rise from her chair as I don't wait for her to answer, instead, choosing to stride past Abel and head for the door. "Okay, well, don't forget, I won't be seeing you until after spring break, Avalon!"
I leave the room, Abel getting up and following me as I hit the hallway and storm past the portraits yet again. Getting to the elevator, I jam my finger against the button before turning around, ready to give Abel a piece of my mind for being such an intrusive dick when I find him paused in front of one of the many portraits. It isn't the look of concentration on his face, but the sheer vile hatred I see in his eyes that stops me.
Without even thinking about it, I turn my head, wondering what the hell could elicit such a reaction. The portrait he stands in front of is one of the newer ones. A tall man with a shock of white-blond hair similar to his stands there, clad in a suit that looks molded to the man's slender frame. There's a cruel beauty in the image before us. A coldness in the man's eyes speaks of something darker beneath the fabric he wears and the brush strokes that paint him.
"Abel?" The elevator dings just as I say his name and he turns from the painting, heading straight for the doors as they slide open to reveal an empty compartment.
I don't get a chance to ask him what that was about because the second the doors are closed, Abel turns on me. "What opportunity was she talking about?" he demands.
A scowl forms over my lips. "Why do you need to know?" His stare never wavers and I growl. "It's nothing. Just a scholarship to come to Eastpoint as an official student rather than a dual enrollment student."
He blinks and then sinks back against the back wall with a nod. "Oh, okay," he says.
I eye him. "That's it?"
Abel waits until the doors open again and we stride out towards the exit. "You'll accept," is all he says.
My feet come to a stop at the edge of the stairs and he keeps walking, pausing only when he realizes I'm not with him. Abel's hair slides across the tops of his ears as he pivots back to me with an arched brow. The sun shines down, hotter than it's been these last few weeks. It soaks into my skin and makes me feel like I'm burning just as much on the outside as I am on the inside.
"What makes you think I'm going to accept?" I ask when I finally have his attention.
He shrugs. "You're a smart girl," he tells me. "It's a good deal for a girl like you."
I take one step down. "A girl like me?" I repeat his words with a shake of my head. "You would think that, wouldn't you?"
"Am I wrong?" he inquires.
If poverty was all that made me then no, he wouldn't be. But I was more than just poor. Blood and sweat and dirt coated hands reaching for me flashes in front of my field of vision, disrupting my current reality. I recall the memory I had the last time I went cliff diving. It hadn't been my mother's last attempt to sell me ... only the first. I swallow around a suddenly dry throat.
"The scholarship comes with strings," I say. "I don't like following other people's rules."
A bitter smile spreads Abel's lips, stretching them impossibly tight. So tight, I half expect the skin to split right open and blood to trickle down his teeth and chin. It's a barbaric expression. One I'm not used to seeing on him.
"Everything comes with strings," he says, his voice different from what I'm familiar with. Deeper. Darker. The clarity in his eyes fades as if he's gazing into a far off distance. "You may think that money frees you from some things, and maybe it does, but it ties you down in other ways." One of his hands comes up and rests against his chest as if he's stroking something beneath his shirt. I take another step down until I'm much closer to him and I catch a glimpse of the outline of something dangling around his neck, almost hidden by the crew neck of his t-shirt.