Stories of Stardust (pt2)

215. Zenith Online Chapter 61 - Roc and Rook (5)

Hours later, I quietly slipped back into our room, defeated. Cove's lumpy form lay beneath the blankets on his bunk, his back to me. Neither Ranch nor Ani were in sight. I hadn't seen hide or tail of them anywhere. Once I got desperate enough, the few crewmates I'd questioned had vague suggestions and mentions of finding Ani and Ranch in the oddest of places–including, supposedly, on top of a chandelier–but all of the reports were nearly an entire day old.

I quickly changed and climbed the smooth wooden ladder, slipping beneath the covers. My irritation at Cove was temporarily tossed aside, covered by my increasing worry for my troublesome cat. Closing my eyes, I used mental magic to reach out, searching for his presence. I didn't find it.

Rather than feeling fear or even worry, I just felt annoyed. I knew he was safe–surely I would feel it if he wasn't. My shoulders struck the bed as I flopped over, letting my limps fall lifeless as I stared up at the ceiling. Slowly, the anger and the tension that had been stewing bled out of me, leaving me feeling exhausted. My hand missed the softness of Ani's fur, and in a moment of weakness, I wished I felt Ani's comforting purr against my chest.

Sleep didn't come. My brain was too active, and the tension kept building back up in my muscles. Cove's reaction to my words had proven they weren't wrong. So why did his anger bother me the way it had?

"You always act like you hate other people, Hayden."

Bullies had found me an attractive target back in high school. Well, they had for most of my early life if I was being candid with myself. Once I'd gotten to college, I'd moved forward with my life, determined not to let anyone walk over me in such a manner ever again. Ember claimed that my resolution had come with a change in attitude and one she hadn't particularly liked.

She'd even quoted Star Wars at me as if that would get through to me.

"You've 'become the very thing you hate,' Hayden," she'd said, her green eyes sharp and angry.

"Excuse me?"

"You're a bully."

My vision had darkened around the edges, and my response was snappy. "I don't go around beating people up for the fun of it," I'd protested loudly, recalling all the shameful bruises I'd carried and how our father had looked at me when he spotted them.

As always, she wasn't one to back down from a fight. She'd stared at me unflinchingly, her voice still calm and measured. "Not physically. You run around, treating people like dirt because you're worried they'll hurt you if you don't hurt them first."

Her words had cut through me far deeper than any knife, shattering the guarded castle walls I'd built around myself to keep people out and sending them crumbling to the ground like they were built of flimsy cards. "I–"

"You like to pretend that you're better than everyone," she cut me off while I was still off balance, the word teetering around me. "That you're better than dad. In reality, you're still that scared little boy who'd rather flutter away on the wind than face anything. Leaving me to pick up the mess you left behind in your flurry."

The once-firm walls of the castle kept crumbling before I could rebuild them, staggered by the onslaught of my sister's angry words.

"You always act like you hate other people, Hayden. But you know what I think?" She'd asked, her eyes glittering ominously.

A deep sense of foreboding had filled me. Ember understood me like no one else because, most of the time, there had been no one else. She had the power to worm her way past my defenses. Oftentimes, she'd used this power to pull me up from the dirt with words alone when even our parents couldn't (or wouldn't). But sometimes, she'd use it like she'd had on that day to say what I needed to hear but wouldn't admit even to myself.

"You're projecting. All those flaws and things you hate to see in other people? Those are the bits and pieces of yourself you're too afraid to admit to."

I would never have struck her for her words, not truly, but I'd desperately wanted to silence her before she could finish speaking. Instead, I'd stood there in shocked silence until she was done before I swallowed all my arguments, turning on my heel and walking away. I'd left for my dorms that evening, ignoring her texts and phone calls until I was home for the summer.

Neither of us had ever brought up that conversation again.

Staring up at the ceiling, back to my bunk, my brain drug the conversation from where I thought I'd long buried it, flipping through it and my conversation with Cove over and over.

What was my subconscious trying to tell me?

I didn't want to know the answer.

By the time the next morning came, the exhaustion was dragging me down, and the crusts in my eyes told me that, if I was lucky, I'd gotten a few hours of sleep. It was difficult to tell without a clock. I slipped down from my bunk, avoiding eye contact with the wide awake and ready Cove as I walked past. "Sinbad wants us in his office as soon as you're ready," he said, his voice flat and deprived of both hostility and warmth.

"I'll be there," I said, finally meeting his eyes. He nodded, and we went through the motions. Like the one I'd had with Ember, we pretended the conversation we'd had yesterday never happened.