Chapter 21

Chest heaving and pants still open, he was out of me and across the room in a second. It didn’t even matter that the knocking was coming from my shared wall with Lindy, and it was the same kind I’d been hearing all year.

He seemed to relax at the realization, but I could tell the moment had been ruined.

He shook his head, running his hands over his eyes. “I should leave.”

The desperate fog now clearing from my mind, I knew he was right. It didn’t mean the words didn’t sting.

“Okay,” I whispered, quietly fantasizing about ringing Rigel’s neck.

I assumed he would fix his clothes and leave, but he kissed me. Though, this time, it was soft and sweet. His hand came up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

“Never doubt for a moment that I’m not so entirely fixated by your presence as to not nearly hinder my ability to teach.”

I winked at him. “You’re not that good at hiding it.”

“Then, I’ll have to try harder.”

He acted like he was about to pull away from me, but I tightened my hands around the tops of his arms.

“No acting performance will be enough if you don’t leave Rigel alone,” I warned. “I have no doubt that he’ll keep his word.”

He shook his head. “I’m getting shaken down by a student. Unbelievable.”

“Yeah, this has been a really interesting year for you.”

We both smiled, and he cleared his throat, pulling at the ribbon around his neck, clearly nervous. “I am sorry, Agnes. I’m sorry for all the things I’ve done to keep you away from me, and I’m also sorry for not doing them well enough. But please believe, no matter what happens, that I intend to do what’s best for you from here on out.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

He circled his hand around to the back of my head, bringing me forward to plant a small kiss on my forehead, before disappearing in a blink.

That time, I could tell he was gone, as if he’d taken all the air out of the room with him. Before I even regained the feeling in my legs, I’d already slid down the wall until I landed on the floor.

Soon after the encounter, Rigel’s rage deflated, which was as much an answer as I required. That worry gone, I dedicated my full attention to school, which proved to be a necessity. I hardly had enough time to be miserable about my aching heart. The classes were piling on the work for the end-of-the-year assessment, and everyone was feeling the pressure. Even Rigel, who was usually confident to a fault, was acting crabby.

The final Transparency class was high tension. Rigel had maintained a marginal lead the entire time, but when we got to class, Professor Faun announced a new incentive.

“In the name of keeping things interesting, I’ve decided to make this game worth double the points,” he announced, watching as all the ears in the room perked up. “I can’t have half of you phoning it in on the last hurdle.”

Murmurs erupted from the gaggle of students. That put multiple people in line to beat Rigel, including me. Thanks to how much effort I put into mentally and emotionally distancing myself from the professor, I was only one point behind him.

Everyone glanced over at Rigel, but his face was calm and neutral. He either didn’t take it personally, or he wasn’t concerned. Probably both. Despite his efforts to dampen his skills, he was better than the rest of us. If anything, he most likely took it as a compliment.

“Well, if everyone is ready, you have a minute to get into your position before everything begins.”

His eyes flicked to me, the most contact we’d had in weeks heating my body in an instant.

Everyone around me shuffled apart and blinked out of existence, trying to scramble to a good hiding spot while they didn’t have to control the sounds they made.

I’d been so shaken by the light brush of attention I was the last one visible in the room.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he said.

Even though his voice was neutral, borderline scolding, I still felt the oddest tickle.

Then I remembered we weren’t alone, and I quickly disappeared, walking backward slowly as he removed his head and turned over the hourglass.

Once everyone was situated, he slowly scanned the room from the desk, taking in the space. Now that it was the final class, it was expected that we wouldn’t make any more rudimentary mistakes. No fingernails, no dust, no excuses. It was exceptionally stressful because they made it clear that if you couldn’t keep up, you couldn’t stay in school.

Luckily, most of the early losses were sound-based. It was hard to keep out of his way and remain quiet. One person accidentally bumped into his desk, causing a stack of papers to flutter in surprise. Others simply forgot to mind the floorboards.

“Get out of my seat, Margot,” he chided, glaring at the butt imprint in his leather chair.

With a small sigh, she popped into view. “How could you tell it was me?”

“Today was your last opportunity not to eat onions immediately before class.”

She rolled her eyes, getting to her feet. “Whatever.”

Most of the outs came about halfway through, when the middle of the pack got bored of standing. While it didn’t do to simply out yourself, many would clear their throat or kick a chair so they could leave. Eventually, it was down to only Rigel and me, but I was debating throwing in the towel. Class had technically ended, and everyone else was on their way to Object Manipulation, but we could stay until the bitter end.

Professor Faun moved toward me, so close I could feel the heat radiating off his body. Surely, he knew I was there, but he hesitated, allowing me time to move out of his reach, which annoyed me.

I didn’t want him artificially inflating my grade.

I lightly kicked the toe of his shoe, making him take a surprised step back.

“Oh, well, found you,” he said, sounding almost disappointed.

I allowed myself to appear in front of him. “Whoops.”

“Rigel is the winner, I suppose.”

“Who’s surprised?” someone said right in my ear, making me jump.

My unstable ankle rolled at the sudden movement, and my leg buckled, prepared to take me down with it.

Before I could crumple, I was yanked back by my sweater, causing me to cough as the material cut into my neck. Once I regained my footing, I realized it was Rigel with his hand tangled in my clothes.

Despite having caught me, he wasn’t looking my way but was gazing directly at Professor Faun, who also had his arms out, as if prepared to catch me as well.

Even though we were the only three people left in class, the room suddenly felt crowded. Rigel’s face was coy and smug, clearly taunting the professor.

“Are you all right?” Professor Faun asked, trying to seem casual as he returned to the desk and reattached his head.

I elbowed Rigel and pulled at my sweater to straighten it out, trying not to make eye contact with either man. “Yeah, I was just a little surprised.”

Rigel’s mocking grin was still prevalent in his voice. “Don’t hate the player. Hate the game.”

Professor Faun walked briskly to the chalkboard and put the new points next to our names. “All right, Rigel, Ephraim will be in contact with you about the prize. You’re both probably going to be late to Object Manipulation.”

The words came out quick, almost slurred. It was so unlike him that even I was surprised.

“Did I do something wrong, Professor?” Rigel asked, voice slimy.

Professor Faun’s hand stilled against the blackboard. “You’re both going to be late.”

I was prepared to make a run for it, but Rigel beat me to my stuff, shrugging my bag onto his shoulder and throwing my blazer over his arm. “Here, let me carry your things.” His eyes flicked between me and the professor. “I’m a good sport, after all.”

“I did what you said,” I hissed under my breath once we were down the hall. “Back off.”

“You did,” he agreed, “and I greatly appreciate it.”

“So, is there a reason you’re still being a dick?”

He shrugged. “That’s just my personality. I can’t help that you gave me the ultimate hot button.”

“I never said your accusations were true.”

“Interesting,” he said, not sounding convinced, probably for good reason.

“So, yeah, you can definitely continue on with your prodding. But if it were me, I’d be embarrassed.”

“Fine, I’ll lay off,” he said. “But for the record, if you were to hypothetically pursue a relationship with a hypothetical professor, I’d be telling you that it’s a really awful idea.”

“And I’d hypothetically tell you to eat shit and stop acting like you care about what happens to me.”

“Who says I don’t care?”

I gaped at him. “What?”

“Get real, Agnes. If a hypothetical teacher was hypothetically fucking you, he’d be the one going through the door, not you.” He shot me a glance. “It wasn’t your afterlife I was threatening.”

“You don’t know that.”

“He’s the one that’s supposed to behave himself. You’d get leniency for being a starry-eyed ingenue.”

“I’m not—,” I said, my voice breaking but continuing in a neutral tone. “Nothing happened, so drop it.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” His face stretched into a wicked smile. “Maybe I was just projecting. I could see why he would risk it all for those tits—objectively speaking, of course.”

I gagged. “Go to hell.”

“Hey, you didn’t get the nickname from nowhere.”

“Is this your way of trying to apologize for being an asshole?”

“A little.”

“It’s not working.”

He sighed dramatically. “Then, I guess I’ll have to think of something else.”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” I said, snatching my blazer from his hands. “In fact, I’d love it if you never spoke to me again.”

“You don’t mean that,” he said, making me laugh in his face. But he continued, voice surprisingly serious. “You need someone like me around to tell you the truth. Who else is going to keep you from bulldozing the faculty with your career-ending rack?”

I stopped outside the door to Object Manipulation and held my hand out for my bag. “Just leave me alone, Rigel. We’re not friends.”

He slid the bag down his arm but didn’t release it when I grabbed the strap. Peering up, I found him looking inexplicably frustrated. “Just give me a chance.”

Yanking my bag, I pulled it from his grip. Part of me was tempted to try and give him hell, but honestly, I couldn’t bring myself to waste the energy. So, I shoved the door to the classroom open without another word.

We were, in fact, late to Object Manipulation, walking in halfway through Professor Algenette’s sentence. The air in the room was tense.

“Who won?” someone called.

“Rigel,” I said, crossing my legs so I could adjust the straps around my foot.

Faint groans had him smiling as he took his seat. “Don’t pretend to be shocked.”

No one was surprised, per se, as much as they were worried about the mysterious honor being bestowed upon arguably the most sadistic student in our year.

“Do you guys want me to answer your question, or are you satisfied?” Professor Algenette interjected, bringing the attention of the room back to her as a crumpled soda can fell from the cage overhead.

Clearing her throat, she continued, and I realized why everyone looked so stressed. “There’s usually a couple of students that have to be sent through the black door at the end of the year. And while that’s not ideal, there isn’t anything for them in purgatory if they can’t learn these skills.”

***

Later that evening, in the dining hall, it was clear the topic was still haunting Arlie. “I think the whole black-door thing is weird. I mean, there’s like a town out there, right? Why couldn’t we just go there?”

“I mean, the people who live out there don’t exactly seem friendly,” Blair said, stabbing idly into a baked potato.

I cleared my throat. “There’s probably a reason they don’t think it’s a viable alternative.”

“Oh, right . . .” She seemed to remember who she was talking to. “Well, yeah, the thing that tore off your foot was really bad. But surely, that’s not what they’re all like, even if they’re a bit crazy. I mean, they let older students live out there for the summer, so it can’t be that dangerous.”

She probably hadn’t grasped how close we were to danger all the time. Directly below the school was a spider woman slowly tearing students apart, and no one was stopping it. So, if that’s how things were here, the safe place, then I had little hope for the rest of purgatory.

“Yeah.” I sighed. “Maybe.”

***

The first final I had to face was Object Manipulation, since the Transparency final had to be scheduled outside of class hours.

For Object Manipulation, we had to either present or perform our newest skill without dropping anything, which sounded easier than it was. The sheer mental strain I had to enact to simply keep the instrument from clattering to the floor had compromised my ability to learn the banjo. Unlike when I’d crocheted, something that came naturally, having to put thought into the act of playing and keep a hold of it took considerable brainpower. As the final loomed close, I had just about learned only a simple melody enough to seem adequate.

When the day came, we had to perform our skill in front of each other, but it lacked the excitement of the last time. During the mid year presentation, it had been exciting to show off the things we’d clearly known in life. Most products had been notably impressive. But this time, everything was comparatively weak.

It was clear most people had struggled with their skill. The people who rode bikes around the room shook, and one of them even tipped over and fell off their bike.

They’d looked up with absolute terror but seemed relieved when Professor Algenette helped them up and said, “Lucky for you, you fell off the bike and not through it.”

Arlie presented her crochet, which consisted of mostly a simple wonky scarf and a few round tablecloths. Professor Algenette had her crochet for her.

“Very good,” Professor Algenette said after Arlie made a small chain with her trembling fingers.

Next was someone who’d created a handful of cute animal figurines. But when the professor had them mold clay in front of her, they struggled. Their fingers kept sinking through it, and as they became more and more frazzled, the clay ball fell multiple times.

“It’s okay,” Professor Algenette said carefully to the student nearly in tears. “Come see me after class.”

Then it was my turn.

I fumbled through the basic melody of “Boil That Cabbage Down,” which came out sounding bad. But, because I was able to properly hold the instrument, which was honestly a miracle, I passed.

The final for Interpersonal Exploitation wasn’t any easier. It had taken the better part of a month to get my final study into decent shape, but I was still terrified to present it. Even then, the worst part of the presentations was the responses you had to make. We were all required to ask one another two questions, which could make for some social tension if you weren’t careful. Most people tried to get theirs out of the way early. No one wanted to be caught having to corner someone with a painfully obvious hole in their study.

Mine was all right, although justice wasn’t a rigid concept. It didn’t have a clear path, so I had to weave a rather complicated web to make anything halfway decent.

Rigel looked very proud of himself for his study, but how hard was it to come up with an idea to torment someone?

Regardless, I passed, which was all I cared about.

The last final was Intro to Transparency. I’d signed up for the last one possible on the Saturday afternoon of the last week of classes. Whatever we were doing, we had to do it by ourselves, and if I was actually getting the opportunity to be alone with him, I wanted it to be as private as possible.

When my time slot rolled around, I walked into the Transparency room.

“Déjà vu, right?” I said by way of greeting, closing the door behind me.

Already looking mournful, he gestured to the chair I usually occupied, and I found myself almost jealous at the idea of my other classmates using the seat I silently considered mine.

“So, what’s the plan?” I asked, sitting in front of him.

We were so close our knees were nearly touching, and I had to fight the urge to stroke him. I’d been hoping that draw would ebb, but it picked up exactly as we’d left off weeks before.

He seemed to feel the same, purposefully leaning away from me and balling his hands into fists.

“Well, you’re going to sit in front of me, become invisible, and stay that way for an hour.”

“Is that all?”

“You also have to talk to me continuously, so I know you’re still in front of me.”

“Oh no, how will I manage?”

He smiled. “Yes, well, you wouldn’t believe the truly dull conversations I’ve been subjected to this week.”

“Maybe if everyone weren’t afraid of you, they might take more conversational risks.”

“How about you? Are you afraid of me?”

“Petrified.”

He grinned, rubbing his neck. “Well, you should probably start now. Otherwise, we’ll be here all day.”

“Trying to get rid of me?” I asked, turning myself invisible.

He didn’t look amused. “How were your other finals?”

“Pretty good,” I said, still smiling, even though he couldn’t see me. “Why? Hoping I’d failed?”

“You can’t argue that it would be awfully convenient for me.”

I kicked him lightly, making him laugh in surprise. “Easy there. I am actively testing you.”

I leaned back in my seat. “Get to talking, then.”

He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “Is everything okay with, uh, Rigel?”

“Taken care of.”

“Meaning?”

“He doesn’t have anything to gain from making accusations.” I sighed. “And I have no intention of ever speaking to him again, so it’s unlikely he’ll find a reason.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“It’s no big loss.”

I was getting bored with having to talk about Rigel, so I took my chances by reaching out and stroking his thigh.

He stiffened at the contact. “What are you doing?”

“You said you needed to know I was in front of you.”

“I was just going to ask you about the banjo.”

“I’m bad at it,” I giggled, stroking farther up his leg.

I was so starved for contact I felt like I’d gone cold, only managing to warm up in the spots where our bodies met.

But he lifted my hand off him, pressing it hard between his palms. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

I looked down at his hands, where his thumb ran slowly up and down the side of my invisible wrist. My body froze, savoring the contact.

Rigel’s voice echoed in my mind.

He’d be the one going through the door. You’d get leniency for being a starry-eyed ingenue.

My lip curled, and I was glad Professor Faun couldn’t see my face. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. If I wanted to protect Professor Faun, I couldn’t test his limits. I refused to be the stereotype Rigel cast me as. I cared about Faun, and I was going to prove it.

I recoiled from him. In a wager with myself, I decided I would use the hour to interrogate him, now that he seemed more pliable.

“What’s your favorite color?” I asked.

His brow furrowed in surprise. “Amber, why?”

“That’s specific.”

“I don’t like to skimp on detail.”

“Favorite animal?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“You’ve been inside me. Am I still not deserving of a few personal details?”

“Fair point,” he said, clearing his throat again and rubbing the front of his neck. “Snakes.”

“Like that giant one that snuck onto campus?”

He shrugged. “I just think they’re interesting.”

Tapping my chin, I tried to think of a juicy question. “How did you die?”

“Hunting accident.”

Too easy.

“Did you really give me your coat just to be nice?”

“Are you asking if I orchestrated my own downfall?” He shook his head. “I’m not quite so self-destructive.”

I chewed my lip. “What do you see when your eyes go hazy?”

“Fragments of daily life on Earth. It’s an egregiously dull torment, believe me.”

“What was it like to be”—I struggled to find the right word for it—“plugged in?”

“It was nothing, because I was nothing. I didn’t exist in the way I did before and after. It’s hard to explain.”

He had yet to flinch at the questions, which shocked me. I wondered if, on some level, it was a relief to be allowed to talk to someone. I steered the conversation to slightly more benign topics after that, running down the rest of the hour.

“So, did I pass?” I finally asked, becoming visible again.

He leaned over his desk and checked something in his grade book. “Yes, god help me, you did.”

“I guess I’ll see you next year.”

He shook his head. “I never would have imagined I could feel relief and dread concurrently.”

I wanted to kiss him, but I only nodded. “It’s been a pleasure, Professor.”

Before I could leave, he reached out, silently grabbing my hand and squeezing before letting me go.

***

Arlie and Blair were waiting for me out on the lawn. I’d actually agreed to go to a bonfire party with them to celebrate the end of finals, but I was struggling to get excited.

“How’d you do?” Arlie called across the grass as I approached.

“Passed.”

“Good. It’d be a shame to watch you walk through the door.”

“Don’t be silly,” Blair said before popping a berry into his mouth. “You wouldn’t be allowed to watch.”

We looked toward the entry gate, looming tall and dark at the end of the walking path.

“I wonder what’s out there,” Arlie said, squinting, as if the darkness beyond the trees would come into focus.

Blair rubbed his palms together. “I finally get to go out there, so I’ll bring back my field notes.”

Arlie scoffed. “Don’t rub it in.”

I snorted. “I just hope you come back with all your limbs.”

They laughed but only because I laughed first.

Blair shot a look at Arlie. “Agnes is just bitter because she’ll probably have to stay locked in here forever.” He patted me hard on the shoulder. “Maybe you’ll get to be the next Stacy.”

“It’s a pretty sweet gig, actually.”

“That’s right, Aggie,” Arlie said. “Think positive.”

We went out and partied that night, but I was mostly worn out by the pressure to look like I was having a good time. The alcohol helped but not enough to keep my mind off Professor Faun.

The next day, everyone gathered in the cathedral for the end-of-year ceremony. While everyone else was excited, I shook with anxiety. We were separated into our houses, and since I didn’t know any other Iudex outside of Lindy, I sat in a random seat.

First was the graduation ceremony for the students who’d just returned from their capstone year in the mortal world. This was probably the first and last time I’d seen any of them, so I didn’t bother paying close attention. I spent most of the time looking at Professor Faun as he shook hands with the graduating students as they filed across the stage. Utilizing the opportunity, I allowed myself to take him in as much as I wanted, like I was saving it up for the long weeks ahead. But then Ephraim announced that it was time to give out the histories, and my focus instantly shifted.

“I know many of you have been waiting all year for this. But in waiting, you have forged new interests, new skills, and new friends. I don’t want you to think of these histories as who you are but who you were.”

A creaking came from behind the stage, and Stacy emerged, pushing a metal cart piled high with red leather books.

She delivered it to Ephraim’s side, and he laid his hand fondly on the stack. “So, read these over the break, and when you’re satisfied, take them to the library to be shelved in the archive.”

He called everyone up in order, and I watched as everyone went ahead of me. I wondered if I really wasn’t going to receive mine when I finally heard my name.

I stood on trembling legs and made my way down to the stage, trying not to seem too relieved. I couldn’t wait to throw it in Rigel’s face that he’d been wrong. Maybe my not getting the sample at Christmas was a fluke. It’s not like I demanded to see it, after all. I’d just assumed the worst.

But when I walked across the stage and took the book extended out to me, I looked down to find the cover blank.

As I looked up at Ephraim in surprise, he whispered “We’ll discuss it later” before quickly ushering me off the stage.

I was suddenly overcome with the crushing need to run as I had the first time I was in the cathedral. But Rigel was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for me, clutching his own real history.

Swelling with anger, I shoved the blank book against his chest as hard as I could. “Happy?”

He said nothing, and when I turned to leave, he grabbed my arm.

Tugging me close, he whispered, “You’re going to want to stick around for this.”

I yanked my arm out of his grip, ready to hurl insults, but Ephraim’s booming voice cut me off. “All right, now that you all officially completed your first year, it’s time for your first field trip.”

I paused, looking up at Rigel with wide eyes. But he didn’t return my shocked expression. It was like he’d been warned, despite the room being filled with surprised murmurs.

Ephraim smiled, letting the voices die down again before continuing. “Because, tomorrow, to thank you for your hard work this year, the faculty will be escorting you all to the mortal world for the first time.”