The Compass and the Quill [Under Revision]

30.

Parker

I couldn't be more grateful for my ability to read between Quilla's lines. She and I shared an undeniable connection that allowed us to talk without uttering a single word. It had happened in the car this morning when I had taken her hand in mine, and it had happened again at lunch when she was telling me about Christie. The torture haunting her eyes, masked by a superficial layer of exhaustion and abstract bravery, had pierced my heart through and through, causing me to do what I did best - turn that pain into anger and then vent it out someplace.

Keeping calm at the table had been a mammoth task. Everyone knew of my explosive temper and they had been amazed by the control I kept. But when Quilla was around, it was comparatively easy to stay in control. To look beyond what the pain was doing to me at the damage it was doing to others. If I were as open as she was, I would have told her that she made a difference in my life just like I did in hers. Her presence made it easier for me to bear the hurt and humiliation my father had caused and still caused. She thought of herself as weak just because she cried so much, but her tremendous personal strength was as obvious to me as the dawn of a new day and more inspiring than a metaphor could express. And she kept the nightmares that had haunted me since the fight at the cathedral at bay.

To Christie's immense misfortune, I was in her Government class. As she waved and smiled at me and I scowled back, an idea formed in my head. Taking in a deep breath to reign in my anger, I smiled at Christie, making her wave falter and then stop. Suspicion and a touch of fear colored her expression and her flirtatious wink didn't really mask it; my smile widened, showing the true extent of my anger without even looking angry.

"Beat it," I growled at the boy sitting next to her.

"But - "

"Move, now, or do you want me to get rude?"

He immediately gathered his things and bolted, not even stopping to pick up the pencil he had dropped. I flung myself into the seat, silently picking up the pencil and twirling it between my fingers.

"Hi?" Christie said tentatively.

"Ssup?" I asked casually.

"You're finally honoring with me with your presence. Anything special?"

"Yes, actually," I said. "So I heard talk about this altercation earlier this morning. You have any idea what happened?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Christie turn a shade paler. "No, not really," she said. "Why?"

"Just wondering. Funny how you don't know, really, considering that you were involved."

The teacher started the lecture, but I didn't pay much attention to it. I turned to look Christie in the eye. "I'd like Quilla's chain back, right now," I hissed, giving up all pleasantries.

Christie was smart enough to drop the pretense now that she knew her game was up. A sly smile spread on her face instead, and she placed her hand under her chin as she regarded me with calculating eyes. "She's more pathetic than I had thought," she mused. "Came straight to you with her tail between her legs, did she?"

"She has more dignity than you do, fortunately," I said, causing Christie to raise an eyebrow. "She has a bad habit of keeping things to herself. It takes a lot of coaxing to get things out of her."

"I highly doubt that."

"Not my problem if you do," I said coolly. "Now. May I have her chain back, please?"

"Why, she's too afraid to come and get it herself?" Christie taunted, smirking.

It took a lot of effort for me to not let my temper show. "Too smart, actually," I corrected. "She knows you're trying to bait her."