Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen
At the end of class, I decided to leave with Rochelle and allow her to show me around the rest of the building. She seemed adamant in being the one to show me absolutely everything there was to possibly know. I couldn't quite take every single bit of information in but listen to her voice explains everything in detail about the building was admittedly quite enjoyable. Maybe I had judged Rochelle a little too soon which I silently cursed myself for doing as she continued to show me around. Majority of the classrooms where Science orientated and the rest were either English Literature Writing Courses or Citizenship classes.

"What's the second course you are taking here? You're taking two right?" She asks, slipping another one of her cancer sticks between her pale lips.
"English Lit. I favour Science a lot more though."
"Cool. My second chosen subject was History. I love speculating about old Henry the 8th." She giggles evilly, making cold jokes about the old historians back in that century.

"Nick seems lovely." I comment lightly, hoping to steer away from historian talk.

"Yeah, you could say that." Rochelle responds although seeming unsure of her own words. My ears prick with curiosity to why she would seem so unbalanced in her answer.

"You don't like him?" I ask.

"No, god no," She begins, wiping a strand of her bright blue hair from her face. "It's just he is known as a bit of a flirt with some of the students."

"A flirt? With the students? But he's at least all of thirty odd years old!?"

"28. He's 28." She corrects, as if it made a huge difference to my assumption of number.

"How is he known as a flirt?"

"Rumours speculate this building that he apparently slept with one of his student last year."

I gasp, clasping my hand over my mouth. "No!? Surely not!?

"Oh, yes." She says with amusement flashing across her paled-skinned face.

"Is it still going on?"

"No. I mean...it is just a rumour. I haven't seen anything evidential come of it. But the rumours are that he did once have a fling last year with a student, but nothing is going on now. Apparently this girl ended up dropping the course because of what he did to her."

"I should think so! What a pervert..." I exclaim, nodding my head in a justified gesture.

She smirks at my reaction and dumps her cancer stick onto the cold concrete floor as we step outside of the building. The cold air hits my face instantly and I feel overly grateful for the coldness on my cheeks. I hadn't realised how stuffy it is in that building. I found that the science corridors in particular were the most humid part of the building for some unknown reason. The science department obviously sure as hell loved the heating on. Without a doubt.

"Don't tell anyone I told you about that rumour..." Rochelle says in a low voice, leaning up against the mosaic wall of the building.

"Oh, sure. Course I won't."

"I mean it. I shouldn't have really said anything. You cannot repeat it. To anyone. Ok!?"

"D-don't worry, Rochelle. I won't say a word." I say, doing a zip gesture across my lips and throwing away the invisible key. She smirks at my poor attempt at mimicking.





Later that day; I arrive back at my student apartment but when I approach my door I see George standing outside my door, waiting for me?

"Hey..." He says in a low voice. What the hell?

"Err, hello?" I respond uncertainly, turning my keys in the lock of the door. "Where were you today? Didn't you say you would call me?"

"Yeah I um...I'm sorry. Something came up. I'm sorry." He says, rubbing the back of his neck and his eyes begin to dance around the hall. His nervousness amuses me and I chuckle lightly, opening the door and stepping in. "It's alright, it's no biggy. I just wondered is all." I shrug, chucking my keys onto the side board as I walk through my room.

"So, why you here?" I push, slipping my green jacket off and hanging it over the dressing table chair in the corner.

George's gaze averts between me and my bedroom window. "I just...well I-I wondered if you wanted to go for a walk along the river?"

"There's a river?"

"Y-yeah. Just round the back of this very building. It outskirts all the way round the concert arena which is just next to the uni building." He explains, his tone appearing slightly wobbly as he makes awkward gestures with his toned skinned palms. I smirk, nodding. "Ok then! Sure."

"Don't bother taking your jacket, it's kinda hot out there." He smiles sweetly and turns back towards the door which is still a jar open.



We both head down the river together, my mind trailing back to Mason every now and then. A part of me was beginning to feel strangely anxious about Mason's whereabouts right now. where is he right now? Is he ok? Wait there was more. Why haven't I heard from my parents yet? My Mum promised she would call to check up like she usually does. Something about that made me worry deeply.

What if my Father went back home and went hysterical at her and it has caused a huge rift between the both of them? What if Mason had them arguing and found out that way? Oh my goodness, the thought of it makes my heart drop. I would hate it if Mason had found out this secret in such an unfair way. If Mum and Dad have told him since I have been away, then I really hope they have properly sat him down and done things rationally. I know how hard Dad finds it to deal with situations like this one, although I hadn't known about this huge secret myself until now. To know my Father has kept a secret like that for as long as 20 odd years is an extreme rarity for him in regards to how I have grown up knowing him.

Maybe my Mother has talked him back into a state of calmness. Maybe my Father has changed his mind and not even mentioned anything to Mum at all. I wish I knew all the answers to my questionable thoughts. Everything has been filled with uncertainty and anger since Mother admitted the truth which laid beneath our fake childhoods. Even though the secret doesn't exactly conclude me, it still has made my life feel like a shambles as I have grown up thinking Mason was my brother by blood. To find out otherwise has shook me to the core and to know I cannot tell him is even worse.

A part of me hopes he finds out some way before I return home for the holidays, although the other half of me knows that it will cause problems between our parents and might even rip Mason apart. Maybe it is best he doesn't know. Maybe I should tell him when I return if he doesn't already know. No matter how much I think of all the Maybe's and if's, I still fail to come to any kind of conclusion of the situation.



"You ok?" George asks, breaking my train of deep thought.

"Y-yeah. I'm good."

"You don't seem it?"

"I just can't stop thinking about my brother is all." I say with a sigh, looking across the river as we walk.

"Your brother?"

"Yes, he...well I found out a terrible truth from my mother recently and now my Father knows that I know. Now, I'm worried things have kicked off back home while I'm up here studying." I explain although I feel like I'm rambling. George's eyes seem fixated on me as I meet his gaze and he looks suddenly very curious about my dilemma.

"What kind of truth?" His blonde hair is pushed swiftly back by the cool summer air. He really Is quite beautiful to look at.

"My brother isn't my brother."

"What?" Yeah, George. Tell me about it. I think.

"Yeah my Mother and Father...they took him in as a baby and raised him as their own but he doesn't know that. My parents made him and I think that we were siblings by blood and that my parents are his as well. I don't know what to do." I groan, slapping my hands over my face and I feel warm tears rolling down my cheeks.



"Jesus...that's a pretty big secret." I hear George say after a long moment of silent. He is just as lost as I am with this. George probably has no clue how to make me feel differently about this. Although, I know exactly how George must be feeling with me spilling all this out. I've only known him a few hours and I am practically letting him into a terrible family secret which I should feel absolutely ashamed of. I begin to hope that George doesn't go round spreading this around the university. Not my ideal way of building a reputation for myself.

"I feel maybe you should tell your brother yourself." I hear him say and with that I left my head up to those words.

"You think so? W-why?"

"Well," He shrugs, his eyes darting up to the sky. "He would probably feel angrier with you for being told and not telling him. Siblings stick together right? He will respect you more if you're honest with him...straight up." His words are filled with such logic and honesty.

"Hmm," I hum, thinking about it to myself for a moment. "That does sound like the obvious thing to do but then...I would be taking my the control out of my parent's hands. Really and truly, it is their secret. Not mine." I state fairly, trying to remember my parent's side of the situation.

"Very true, BUT it is your brother's life. Is it not?" George says, the corner of his lips tugging upwards and I smirk. "True, yes it is. I just don't want to disrespect my Mother and Father by taking it upon myself in telling him."

"Yes but your brother is the one being kept in the dark here so if anyone has been disrespected it is him. Right?"

I sigh and smile up at him. "You are very good and making things look a lot clearer than what they are."

"Things are clear. The people who choose to make it more complex are the ones who fog up the situation."

I nod with understanding. George really was a friendly person who had a sense of simplicity to anything I presented him with. This was the very first big thing I learnt about him as a person. Meeting him was like a breath of fresh air and to have him to compare my life with instead of Mason who is being kept in the dark, was a better type of feeling for myself.

George was a very understanding person and seemed to have an answer for everything which for once had calmed my anxiety down to the ground level. I begin to think back to Rochelle and how she called him a right weirdo. Something makes me think Rochelle knows him better than what she had let on.

As this question crosses my mind, I decide against asking him. I wouldn't want George thinking I have been speculating about him with other people. That would only make me out to look as a gossiper of which I am far from.

Rochelle telling me about Nick pricked my brain as I questioned her opinion about George. I wonder if George has any knowledge of Nick. Professor Nick. although, maybe not some professional from what I had heard today. In spite of this, everything Rochelle said could be either a complete misunderstanding or a lie. She had explained it was all just rumours and wasn't sure of any truth in it, but she seemed to have believed in it herself by the way she was talking about it.

A part of me wonders if Rochelle knows more about it then she admits to. Maybe Rochelle is a manipulative type of girl. I hadn't exactly had a great first term feeling about her. First impressions are important in comparison to how long you end up knowing that individual.

My inner soul screams for me to be weary of her.