X Fall Within Flame
I am so far behind on responding to reviews! So, I decided to update early - which is appropriate, considering how long you waited for chapter nine. Midterms, oy vey.
Do I have any Star War fans here?
Enjoy!
-XXX-
I hope and pray they find a way out. There is no guarantee my sacrifice will save them. Thankfully, Charles and Leo were kind enough to stay hidden – I had worried that Enjolras would decide to play hero and burst out from the piano case, blazing, determined to get us out, or die trying.
Of course, I couldn't let him do this.
Despite my story, Giffard insists that I be "taken in," though the officers argue with him.
"She's done nothing wrong here," Sanjay argues on my behalf. We're standing beside the columned front steps of Clara Thomas, watching the remainders of the crowd disperse.
The dark has truly set in now. All the figures beyond us are mere shadows, their voices echoes. It's cold; a drizzle has moved in, and with it, a breeze. In my damp clothes, I'm freezing. However, all men are oblivious to this. They're too busy conferring.
"She was found breaking and entering and possibly in the company of the leaders of this protest!" Giffard gestures firmly toward the fountains. "What other cause could there be for questioning?"
"We can't –'
Giffard interrupts Officer Sanjay. "You can, and you will! I demand that she be questioned. I used to be on the force, I know how things work."
"Sir, we've already questioned her," Johnson replies, giving me a sideways glance. "She was a victim – unwillingly pulled into the theater by a pair of goons that in no way resemble the leaders of your little campus rebellion. Now, we cannot charge her, arrest her, or take her in for any kind of questioning. But if you wish to launch a campus inquiry, perhaps with your board of governors, or some other committee, you are more than free to do so."
There is a pause. President Giffard rounds on me, seemingly sizing me up.
"Very well," he says brusquely. "Eveline Theard. Tomorrow, at eight a.m. sharp, I expect you to appear before the board of governors for a formal hearing inquiring after your involvement in the protests and the organization Friends of the ABC. If you fail to arrive, or fail to fully answer any and all questions, we will regard this as an admission of guilt, which is grounds for expulsion. Is that clear?"
I nod, swallowing. "Yessir." I don't give him the pleasure of seeing me downtrodden, thought. With a locked jaw, I stare Giffard in the eye, unyielding in my gaze. After several seconds, he breaks off the uncomfortable contact. He turns on his head and departs, taking the steps at a brisk pace. We watch.
Sanjay turns to me. "You okay?"
I blink, folding my arms closer to myself. "Yeah. Yeah, I am, thanks."
"He's kind of a jackass," Johnson says bluntly. "I knew a guy or two who used to be on the force with him. He's a bulldog, they say, I swear, never lets anything go. Not until he's killed it. You know?"
"Yeah. That's the perfect way of describing it," I reply darkly, thinking of Dr. Valerius and his troubles with our president.
Finally I am excused. They offer me an escort to my dorm, but I politely decline – as if tonight's events haven't been embarrassing enough, a pair of cops leading me to my room would be downright scandalous. I thank them profusely, then sludge off through the light rain towards my residential hall. Leo is on my mind all the while, but fails to make an appearance. I wonder if he and Joe Leigh have managed to find a way out yet. Or perhaps he's staying away on purpose.
I take the back stairwell. Thankfully, I meet no one on my trek upstairs. Not a soul lounges in our hall (which is a rarity). Heavy limbs guide me through opening the door, sliding off my semi-wet, overly-large disguise, then into bed. I skip a shower, or even washing my face. I'm simply too tired to put forth the effort. My alarm set for seven, I nestled into my bed, pull the duvet up to my chin, and sleep. If I lay awake and think about it too much, thoughts of Enjolras and Giffard will haunt my dreams, or make me cry, or something else terrible.
-XXX-
The next morning at 7:45 I arrive outside of the conference room that is set just beside the presidents office. In a pressed skirt and modest white blouse, my hair immaculate and held back by a barrette, light makeup and sensible shoes, I'm attempting to appear as innocent and responsible as ever – which really shouldn't be that hard, considering I truly am a responsible person, and, all things considered, I am fairly innocent.
The governors shuffle in around 7:55. A few give me curious glances, others stern appraisals, some impartial glances or impassive grunts. I sit on the cold wooden bench quietly. At 8:05, Giffard appears, stalking down the corridor with a scowl and a Styrofoam cup of coffee. He follows the others through the oak double doors. I'd learned through listening to the murmurs of a pair of governors, that he had personally called each and every one somewhere between eleven and twelve last night, requesting their presences for an emergency hearing.
At 8:10, another person joins me in the hall: Marcus.
He shuffles in, wearing dark dress trousers, a turquoise button-down with a silver tie. The shirt brings out his eyes. His short hair has been meticulously jelled and styled. His eyes crinkle in a sheepish smile when he sees me. I can barely smile back.
I wonder why he's here. Surely he wasn't caught as well. The ABCs must have cleared the area first – Enjolras gave the order. I wish to ask, but, unsure of where we stand, I hesitate.
We don't have anytime for conversation, for soon the door is opened.
"Mr. Poncy," booms Giffard. He looms. "You will go first."
"Okay," he agrees readily, as though he had any kind of option. He follows Giffard inside, casting me a nervous glance.
Fifteen minutes pass before Marcus leaves the conference room. I pass this time staring at my shoes, mentally rehearsing my story. My head aches.
Marcus exits, backing out from the room. He's nearly white, but relief floods him the further he removes himself from governors, all limbs relaxing. When he shuts the doors, he looks down at me. I watch, impassive, as he takes a moment to collect himself.
"Good luck," he offers before he flees.
"Thanks," I call softly after.
Soon, I am summoned. I enter silently. A dozen pairs of eyes greet me. Giffard shuts the door with a snap, then takes his place at the head of the table. I am invited to sit. I do so, folding my hands in my lap. There is a rustle of papers before they begin. Giffard starts, by reviewing the event. First, our president presents the flyers and emails sent out by the ABC. He gives the approximate time of last night's gathering, followed by the estimated number of students participating. From there he describes calling the local police, targeting those he believed to be leaders.
"When we started closing in on the crowd, we noticed select students fleeing. Several went into Clara Thomas. I directed a group of officers inside. They recovered Ms. Theard, here." He nods to indicate me. "Alone. Though, we originally believed there to be three people inside."
"And no one else was found?" asks one greying governor.
"No. She was questioned, and seemed to think they escaped." Giffard pauses, looking to me. "You may give your testament."
I straighten. All eyes turn to me again.
"Yesterday I went down to the protests," I begin, my voice in an almost unnaturally high pitch. "It was blowing up my newsfeed, you see, and all of my friends were telling me to check it out. Stupid reason, I know, but I mean…it was crazy. So, I went. Just to see, I guess." Here I struggle, trying to give the impression of someone who is reliving a nightmare. "When the cops starting coming down on everyone, these guys I know told me they were getting out. I didn't know they were going through Clara Thomas. I just…followed them."
"Who were these young men?" one smartly-dressed woman with frosted grey hair.
"I don't know them very well, ma'am," I answer respectfully. "We have met at a few parties, only a couple of times. I only know them as Nate and Russ. Honestly, I can't even say if they go here. But they were at the protests. They said they could get me out. I d-didn't want to get in any trouble, you see.
I thought they were just going to go out the back, or something. But…instead, they lingered. And Russ started – he started –" I shudder. "Coming on to me. I told him to shove off, and refused to…do anything. And he got mad. So they left me. I was in the dark, and I've never been in Clara Thomas before, so I got lost and then the cops came in. I was terrified. I thought that if was caught I'd be arrested or something. When the officers found me on the stage I was so nervous I pushed the chairs over accidentally while I was trying to hide against them."
"Why did you hide? Why didn't you reveal yourself?" demands a squat, balding man, who pushes up square spectacles to better see me.
"I was scared, sir. I was terrified. You will find, however, that I willingly surrendered, and answered all of their questions."
He sniffs. Giffard smiles slightly.
"So, you claim no association to this group…the protesters, Friends of the ABCs?"
"No, sir. I do not know of them. I could not tell you who they are or what precisely they stand for."
"And you contend that you went to the demonstration last night solely to 'check things out' and for no other reason?"
I do not hesitate. "Yes."
The questions appear to be done. There is a hearty pause. A few of the governors exchange glances. Giffard rises slowly. "You may wait outside," he commands. "This should take no time."
It takes twenty-five minutes. Again, I stare at my feet, shuffling them awkwardly. They hadn't sent Marcus outside. "Why was he treated so lightly? What he witnessing against me? Or was he simply shorter in his defense?" I bite my lip. If they do not find me innocent… I'll be expelled. Lose my scholarships. I will have to move back with Alice and Caleb. She can scarcely support our little brother and herself. I'll get a job and go to community college and sleep on the couch and – and –
The door opens. Giffard appears. He gestures this time. I enter once again, holding my breath. When our president sits, a few of the governors shift forward. Giffard stares at the oak table, shifting papers, brow furrowed. Finally, he sits up.
"Eveline Theard," he begins solemnly. "We have reviewed your testimony, and found you without cause or harm in the demonstration last night. We apologize for your trouble, and hope your will report any infractions upon your person to campus security. Characters of that nature should not be allowed to prey upon our university's young women. If you have any further details, or if you perhaps, recall something you had not previously, something that might be of use to this committee, please do not hesitate in contacting myself or my office. In the future, I might avoid maintaining friendships with such unsavory characters, and avoid potentially trespassing upon university property, Ms. Theard. We shall not be so lenient should a second breach come to our attention. Do you have any questions?"
"No," I breathe. "Thank you. Thank you very much."
"You are excused," he tells me curtly. "We have further business to discuss here."
I do not need to be told twice. I all but fly from the conference room.
On my walk back from the administration building to my dorm, I half expect to meet Enjolras. Part of me hopes he'll be waiting for me outside, ready to share in my relief. But these hopes are dashed – he's neither hiding behind the trees, nor waiting by my door. I swallow back disappointment as I slide the key into the lock.
"The sad thing is," I realize. "that I have no one else to expect. No other friends I would want or anticipate. No one to tell…except…."
I'd had friends, once. But they had graduated, or were remainders from high school who choose different universities, or simply didn't go to school at all. Here, I'd thrown myself into my studies, not taking the time to truly make many friends. Acquaintances, sure. Casual, in-class buddies with whom I might trade notes, or study with, I find all the time. But people to get coffee with? Someone to grab dinner with me on a busy Sunday night? A pal, with whom I have movie nights?
Not really. I've never had that here. And Enjolras doesn't quite fit that role. But he was – is? – close.
The closest people in my life are a few towns away – my sister, Alice, and my brother, Caleb. But I dare not scare them with the thought of my expulsion. Alice would scold me, anyway, horrified by the thought that I would so willing risk my scholarships, and indeed, my place in this school, by joining such an organization. She'd be right to fuss, anyways. I can't tell them. I can share my relief with no one.
It's an easy decision to decide to skip classes for the day. Though I went to bed relatively early, I feel very, very weary. Down-to-the-bone tired. Without much internal persuasion, I remove my stuffy clothes to change into pajamas. My bed beckons, and I greet it with something like bitter happiness. I'd much rather be talking about the protest over coffee with Enjolras.
Unfortunately, that's not an option. At least, not tonight.
-XXX-
Hm. No shows on the ABCs...weird?
Whatcha think?