The Ripmender

Chapter 4

I was glad of the company when I saw who was lurking under a tree at the entrance to the parking lot. My heart started to beat again, but with a haphazard jerky motion as if it wasn’t sure whether it should stop altogether.

I couldn’t see the expression on his face because he was in the shadow, but his body language didn’t look friendly at all.

The others hadn’t noticed him. They were busy arguing about where to go.

“She needs a good cup of tea. That place doesn’t have tea.”

“But it has great cake.”

“She doesn’t need cake, dummy. More like a hectically strong cup of coffee.”

“The other place has cake and coffee, but I still think she should have tea.”

I let them argue, the words washing over me as if they had nothing to do with me.

“Cathy, what would you like to have?” the girl with the red hair asked.

I blinked and forced myself to focus on them. Tea. Mother had always given me tea.

“Rooibos,” I said with a voice that was even shakier than it had been when it tried to say hello to Nathan.

I started crying again.

“You know,” the black girl said. “We should probably take her to the place that’ll have the least amount of people. She’s in a bad state.”

“Agreed,” the blonde said. “How about that greasy-looking dive near the back of the admin block? It’s got one of those coffee and tea machines.”

We changed direction and made for the northernmost section of the campus. I dimly saw other students walking past, speaking in loud excited voices about things that were important to them. Normal, everyday things that didn’t involve killer purple fire and assassin rock stars.

I was pushed gently onto a bench. The blonde girl stayed with me while the other two disappeared behind me, presumably to buy the tea I had asked for. The blonde tried to say something to me, but I zoned out.

My mind went into that floaty haze again, thinking about nothing, because everything was too frightening to be thought of. Then I became aware of a warmish thing that nudged against my hand, and my fingers automatically closed around it.

“Drink up, Cathy. It’ll make you feel better,” said the red-head.

Slowly, as if it didn’t belong to my body, the hand lifted the cup and I took a sip. Instantly, I felt the hot fragrant tea pour inside me, miraculously reviving me. My insides had been dried up, and now they were becoming whole and meaty again. The second sip cleared my head and made me part of the human race.

We were by the administration block, where I had gone to get my student card thirty million years ago. We were seated on ancient crumbling concrete tables and chairs that could have come straight out of some Greek archaeology site, except that they were too ugly.

The pungent smell of curry permeated the air. The smell came from the tiny rusty shack behind us, and my nose started to itch. I don’t mind curry, but when I wasn’t feeling a hundred percent, it made me feel nauseous.

“Cathy, what happened?” asked the red-haired girl. “Can you talk about it?”

My fingers suddenly started shaking, so I put the polystyrene cup on the table. I paused and looked at the three girls who were staring at me with varying expressions of concern.

As I have said already, of all the people in my class, they had been the ones I had least wanted to get to know.

The red-haired girls name was Aldytha. She continuously answered our lecturers back with dry, cynical comments that I supposed I would find funny if I understood them. Everyone else seemed to be entertained, including the lecturers.