12

After the chaos of the past month, painting with Mirana feels the closest to normal Alice has felt in a long time. Though she knows this little war is far from over, having a strategy takes some of that burden off her shoulders.

Once the background is finished, they paint on opposite ends of the canvas, sometimes meeting in the middle. Mirana's slowed down by her wrist, forced to paint with it completely straight instead of her usual long, elegant strokes. They're dancing around each other, that much is clear. There's so much Alice wants to say to Mirana, but the words stick in her throat. She dips her brush into the green and drags it in a smooth, tall arc. What if after all this is over, Mirana will want to bury anything that's happened between them? What if all of this is just her cracking under pressure?

What if it's all in her head?

Alice shakes herself out of those thoughts. Focus. It won't do to dwell on those things right now. She cleans her brush off and selects another colour.

Their painting turns out pretty good, sharp, white angular shapes and lines from Mirana contrasted with swirling, looping shapes from Alice of several different colours, occasionally overlapping each other over a patchy golden yellow background. Though the two should clash, oddly enough, they complement each other.

Mason and Chess's painting is fairly minimal by Chess's standards. It's simple — a red sun shining over jagged mountains. They'd apparently finished much earlier than Alice and Mirana, because Chess has Mason sitting on the stool while he paints his face.

Mason hops down from the stool and runs towards Mirana. "Look, Mirana! I'm a lion!"

Mirana giggles. "Yes, you are. My brave little lion."

Alice gets a look at him. Chess's blending and strong line work is impeccable. From a distance, the brush strokes almost look like an actual maw and fur. Chess himself is busying himself with cleaning off their brushes at the sink. Alice hopes that one day he can forgive her. Out of everyone she's hurt, other than Mirana's, his forgiveness is the one she needs most. He's not standing tall and smiling at everything the way he used to with that wicked grin. Now, as he slides the paint down from the brushes under the running water, his shoulders are drawn up, radiating a kind of subtle tension no one else would notice if they weren't looking for it.

As usual, Professor Flora wanders around the room once time is called, admiring everyone's work. She coos praise at Chess and Mason's piece. Chess looks sheepish, but Mason looks as if he's won the lottery with the sound of her approval. It never occurred to Alice before, but she suddenly realizes that if Mason's parents had sent him to conversion therapy, where there's constant lies telling you that there's something wrong with you, he might have never experienced someone else being proud of him.

Well, if that's the case, he needs a new set of parents. Parents that will love him always and help him see that he is pure and good and sweet and deserves all the love they can possibly give him.

When Professor Flora arrives at their piece, she studies it considerably longer than the others. Alice doesn't really understand this special attention to her, and she's not really sure how she feels about it.

"Interesting." she says. "Clashing and yet harmonious. Well done."

That was shorter than usual. Hmm. Perhaps it's not special attention after all.

"Fantastic work everyone!" Professor Flora clasps her hands together. "This was a delightful little experiment, and I'm pleased to say that all your paintings turned out wonderfully. Class dismissed!" Alice turns to leave, but Professor Flora holds up her hand. "Ah, you two," she says, gesturing at Alice and Mirana. "Stay behind a little, will you?"

Alice groans inwardly. She'd forgotten that Professor Flora wanted to check in on her, but keeping Mirana back too seems a little odd. What does she have to do with this? The school was already informed that she was on medical leave.

Once the room filters out, Mason leaving with Chess, Professor Flora drags two stools in front of her desk and gestures for them to sit. This can't be good.

Alice plops onto her stool while Mirana gingerly sits on hers. Professor Flora settles behind her desk, folding her hands.

"Alright, who's going to go first?" she asks.

"What?" they exclaim at the same time. Go first? What is this, an interrogation?

"You know what I mean." Professor Flora leans forward. "There's something going on at this school, and I have a feeling you two might have some answers. Especially you," she says, training her gaze on Alice. "Since you've apparently already taken a side in whatever this is."

Oh, that's what this is about. Wait, maybe Professor Flora can end this! Alice sits up a bit straighter. "Well, you see —"

Pain shoots up her leg from her shin, pulsing. Mirana's kicked her under the table. Alice bites her lip to keep from cursing and looks to her, wondering what the heck that's for, trying not to look annoyed and give something away by mistake.

Mirana smiles sweetly at Professor Flora. "It's all in good fun, I can assure you." she says in a diplomatic tone. "Just a bit we do every year. It'll be over soon."

All in good fun? What is Mirana playing at?

Professor Flora frowns, not entirely convinced. "Is this true, Alice?"

Mirana gives her a look. That answers that. She'll play along, but she wants answers later. Alice shrugs, attempting to look uncertain. "I'm just trying to have a bit of fun. I'm new here, so I'm not really familiar with this game."

Professor Flora still looks uncertain, but she apparently has decided to drop it for now. "Very well. Mirana, you may go. Alice, stay a bit longer, please."

Mirana rises. "Thank you, Professor Flora." Her eyes flicker to Alice's, trying to communicate something but it's unclear what. "I'll see you later, Alice."

She leaves the room, an enchanting flurry of snow, closing the door quietly behind her. Alice doesn't realize that she's still staring at the door until Professor Flora clears her throat, bringing her attention back to her art teacher.

"Alice, as I'm sure Professor Alden has told you, I'm very concerned for you." she says, worry creasing her eyes. "Missing classes, half-hearted paintings, it's just not like you."

"How would you know?" It comes out as a challenge, and Alice winces when she sees Professor Flora recoil, clearly hurt. "Sorry. I just find it hard to believe since you don't really know me, and I don't know you."

Professor Flora laughs softly. "Oh, but I do. I'm very observant, even if we don't talk much." She grows serious again. "I remember the first day you came into my class. Not overly cheerful, but not utterly miserable either. I saw the way you painted on your own, with such passion and vibrancy. It was beautiful to watch. You might not have been bounding about and laughing like your friend Chess, but you were happy." She frowns. "And then Mirana went on medical leave, and it was as if someone had sucked the very soul out of you. You skipped classes. You painted slowly, sluggishly, not really seeing what you were doing. You looked, for lack of a better term, dead. And you only came back to life when she returned, though only half as much. You have some of your muchness back, but not all of it."

Alice sits back a bit. "You and Professor Alden both use that word. Why?"

Professor Flora smiles. "I tell you all this, and you ask why we use the word muchness."

Alice flushes. "Yes, well, I was just curious —"

Professor Flora waves her off. "Oh, it's alright dear. I'll tell you this: it's not the reason that's important, but the word itself."

"I think I understand." She doesn't. Not really. "So, what are you trying to say?"

"You're in love, Alice." She raises a hand when Alice makes to deny it. "Ah, ah, let me finish. Even if you don't see it yet, others do. The way you look at her, the way you talk with her, how your eyes light up when she says your name. It's all very obvious. Especially when you become utterly miserable in her absence."

Alice turns a deeper shade of red. "And?"

"And, if you're going to let her affect you so deeply, you might as well tell her how you feel. I think you would be good together. You bring out the best in one another. Mirana could use someone like you to love and to love her in return."

After quickly getting over the initial shock that Professor Flora has pieced together so much that it's nearly invasive, Alice's mind works in another direction. Even though Mirana doesn't want Professor Flora to know about the war, she can use her help in another department.

She takes a deep breath and decides to just take the plunge. "I did tell her, and that's why she went on medical leave."

Professor Flora gapes. "You're telling me this now?"

"Like I said, we're not exactly close." Alice explains. "But the place she went isn't a hospital at all. It's a conversion therapy center with awful practices that needs to be shut down. You can't see it, but they did something to Mirana's wrists." She glances around, paranoid for a moment that someone might be around listening, but there's no one there. "We broke both her and Mason out of there not too long ago."

"That's why I can't find any records on him." Professor Flora realizes. "What about the parents? Do they know?"

"That's the thing." Alice shifts in her seat. "They don't know what goes on in there, but they're the ones that sent them there in the first place, hoping to 'cure' them, I suppose. Mirana checked herself in the day after I told her."

Professor Flora shakes her head. "Honestly, don't those parents understand that sexuality isn't a choice? It's not a disease you can catch; it's something you're born with, something beyond your control." She drums her fingers absentmindedly, thinking. "Do you know what exactly goes on there?"

"A lot of us have been." Alice says. "Myself, Tarrant, and of course, Mason and Mirana. I don't really know what they did to Tarrant, but they had Mason chained to his bed, and he's got bruises all over, probably from beatings. They hurt Mirana's wrists badly enough that she hardly bends them." She swallows hard, remembering her own time in the asylum. "They locked me in a room for two days without food or water, and the day after that they started whipping me to train me straight."

Professor Flora's expression is unreadable, processing the information. Her lips press into a tight, firm line, her eyes filling with restrained rage. Alice doesn't think she's ever seen her angry before, and it's absolutely terrifying. "I see. Haven't you tried to shut the place down?"

"I've thought about it." Alice admits. "But I've never had the courage before. I've always been afraid that they'll check me back in because I escaped. Tarrant is the only one that was released legally."

Professor Flora clasps her hands tightly together, her brow furrowing, eyes down. "No." she says quietly. Then louder, "No, this cannot continue. I'll look into this Alice, I promise you. Thank you for telling me."

Alice stands. "I had to tell someone." she says. "I feel," she squirms a little, unsure if she should say this. "I feel, I feel you're someone I can trust."

Professor Flora smiles. "I am. Try to enjoy the rest of your day, will you?"

"I will." Probably not. There's too much to be done. Mirana still owes her answers. She grabs her bag off the floor and leaves the classroom.