Chapter 34 The Boy's Dorm
The images from that room clung to me relentlessly, like a shadow I couldn’t step out of. No matter how I tried to rationalize it, I couldn’t stop thinking about the plants, the ivy, the way it had moved, the way it had answered me. A school where magic was prohibited… and yet it still breathed through the cracks of its walls. Hidden. Unnoticed.
Or perhaps ignored.
“You’re free to return to your dormitory if you wish, Miss Lambert,” the nurse said gently, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I nodded once.
I wanted to leave. I wanted my dorm. I wanted Melissa. Even though I knew she would likely be with Emily by now, her laughter elsewhere, her thoughts occupied by someone else.
I stood from the infirmary bed and made my way toward the door. Just before stepping out, I turned back one last time. Vincent lay motionless beneath crisp white sheets, his face pale, his chest rising slowly.
I sighed.
At that moment, I didn’t feel any better.
My thoughts swarmed like bees, relentless and exhausting, as though I had been studying for days without rest. If I saw Adrian, I thought, maybe I would feel calmer. But I couldn’t go to the male dormitory. It was against the rules.
What if I broke the rule?
Just once.
I stopped at the foot of the male dormitory stairs. The hall was empty. It was only 8:34 p.m., students would be in their rooms by now. Curfew hadn’t yet begun.
I placed one foot on the step. Then paused.
What if I got caught?
What if someone reported me?
What if I walked into a group of boys and I was the only girl among them?
What if they were thugs?
Are there gangs in this school?
I turned back slightly, scoffing under my breath. “Wait. I haven’t come across any gangs here.”
I exhaled. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
I climbed the stairs.
At the top, I stopped short. Three corridors branched before me, identical and unfamiliar. I had no idea which direction to take.
Then I heard it, loud cheering, laughter, male voices echoing down the halls.
“What’s going on?” I muttered.
I followed the sound.
As I rounded the corner, the scene burst into view. From the left corridor, Oliver came running, bare-chested with shorts, laughing, his hair damp with sweat. He was being chased by eight other boys, all equally bare-chested with shorts, shouting and whooping like they had lost all sense of decorum.
I froze.
My eyes widened. My lips parted.
They were running straight toward me.
I stepped back quickly, pressing myself against the wall, convinced they were about to crash into me. I shut my eyes tightly, but no one hit me.
Instead, Oliver stopped abruptly in front of me, planting his hands against the wall on either side of my shoulders. One of the boys collided into him and fell hard onto the floor behind us.
I opened my eyes.
Oliver was breathing heavily. Sweat rolled from his chest down over defined muscle, his skin flushed with exertion. His arms still braced the wall, caging me in without touching me.
His emerald eyes found mine.
One of the boys groaned as he stood up, chest heaving. He grinned. “Whoa,” he said. “Oliver, is that your girlfriend?”
Oliver dropped his arms immediately and shot him a sharp look. “You are such a dummy.”
He turned back to me. “Are you okay?”
“Y—”
“Mr. Roger incoming!” one of the boys shouted from the entrance.
Chaos erupted instantly. Doors slammed as students scrambled back into their rooms. My heart crashed violently against my ribs.
Oliver did not hesitate. He seized my hand, and I ran with him down the corridor, our footsteps echoing sharply against the stone floor. The dormitory seemed to inhale and exhale all at once as the hallway emptied. He turned sharply into another corridor that opened onto a narrow balcony overlooking the inner courtyard.
I stopped just behind him as he leaned forward slightly, peering out to watch Mr. Roger inspecting the dormitory corridor below.
“Is he coming this way?” I whispered, my voice tight.
Oliver turned, raised his index finger to his lips, and whispered, “Shh.”
Footsteps echoed closer, measured and unhurried. I held my breath. Then, after what felt like an eternity, Mr. Roger reached the midpoint of the corridor, paused, and turned back the way he had come.
Only when the footsteps faded did Oliver exhale heavily. He slid down until he was sitting on the floor, his back against the stone railing.
“I see you’ve been having fun,” I said, crossing my arms. My voice came out sharper than I intended.
“Don’t be angry,” he replied quickly. “I couldn’t come to the infirmary after your trial. I’ve been—”
“I’m not angry,” I cut in flatly.
He lifted his head, clearly startled by my tone.
“But—”
“I’m looking for Adrian,” I said, interrupting him again. “Have you seen him? I’ve been looking for him.”
He scoffed softly. “Oh.”
Oliver stood, towering over me now, his gaze fixed on mine. “You risk coming to the boys’ dormitory,” he said slowly, “for Adrian?”
“Have you seen him?” I repeated.
“How would I know where that psycho is?” he snapped. “He and I don’t cross paths.” He reached out and placed his hands on my shoulders. “He’s strange, Lexie. He draws—”
I shoved his hands away. “Stop it, Oliver. There is nothing wrong with him. He comforts me.”
“More than I do?” He let out a humorless laugh. “Wow. Maybe when you finally look closely, you’ll understand what he really is.”
We stared at each other, the silence between us heavy and suffocating. No words came, only the unspoken tension tightening like a drawn wire.
I exhaled slowly. “I’ll get back to you when I’m done with the final trial.”
I stepped past him.
“I don’t even understand why you want to be in the council so badly,” he said behind me, his voice low.
I paused but didn’t turn.
“You’ve never cared about student politics,” he continued. “So why are you suddenly so invested?”
My chest tightened. I wasn’t sure whether to feel angry or exposed.
“I was chosen as a candidate,” I replied.
“How?” He moved closer behind me. “Your academic record here isn’t even established yet. You haven’t taken a single test at this school. And if you truly weren’t interested, the Lexie I know would lose on purpose just to avoid being involved. But this?” His voice sharpened. I can’t tell him everything I’m doing now is all for Julian. It would bring more questions about him. “This isn’t you,” he concluded.
I turned to face him. “It’s none of your business, Oliver.”
He scoffed. “You think you can survive here without me? In the council? In this school?” His voice dropped. “Gravenmoor holds secrets… secrets neither of us understands.”
“I will survive,” I said quietly. “And if you won’t help me, then I have Adrian.”
I turned away, brushing my hair back, and walked out without looking back.
What had gotten into him?