They sat there together for what seemed like an eternity in silence. Though she was still trying to find her voice, Que was no longer crying.
"Que?" the Professor finally ventured.
"I'm …" she responded before pausing.
"Don't say fine," Aasir quickly cut in before anyone else could speak. Que shot him a half-hearted "really?" look.
"No, I know. I am sorry," Que conceded, closing her eyes and putting her face in her hands. She felt miserable, completely and utterly miserable, and hopeless. She'd managed to shove her emotions back down, but it felt like at any moment they could break free and take hold of her again. Contrary to what the Professor had told her, feeling was not okay, didn't feel natural, and numbness was the preferable course of action.
"Que, things have been difficult and I understand that. I know this is probably the last thing you want to hear, but in the past, I have always let you chose to come see me. Now, with the way things have been and to help you get back on track with your studies, I would like for you to meet with a senior staff member, if not myself, at least every other day," the Professor said quietly, but with a serious tone.
"No, I don't… I can't… are you serious? I messed up, okay? I said I was sorry, and I promise I'll do better! I'm sorry! I'll do all my school work and go to class!" Que stammered, anxiety wreaking havoc on her brain. She didn't use to mind chatting with the Professor or the others. It often felt nice to have someone to talk to, but she couldn't share her thoughts and feelings this time. It made her sick just thinking about it. He'd think she'd completely lost it! Though, she wasn't sure that that assumption was too far off.
Aasir spoke up this time.
"Que, he is not just talking about class and the rules. He is here to help, so let him help you. Remember last year when we read The Giver? You can't just run, hide, or ignore your problems. It makes them worse in the end."
Though she knew he meant well and was probably right, anger flared inside Que again. Aasir and his literary geared brain. How could he sit there and so casually say that? Aasir knew a lot, but he didn't know her full life story.
"I'm not some coward Aasir! I don't hide or need help! I don't need anyone!" she retorted. At these sharp remarks, Aasir briefly opened his mouth to respond, but thought better of it. He gave the Professor an apologetic look and got up. "Professor, may I be excused and meet with you in the morning about my missing work?"
"That will be fine Aasir. Goodnight," Charles said, giving the slightly dejected looking boy a small, encouraging smile.
After Aasir exited the kitchen, Charles turned back to Que, who was slouched back in her chair, looking extremely defensive.
Charles sighed, "That was a bit harsh Que."
"Whatever," Que huffed.
"Que…" Charles said but she continued in a more mocking tone, mumbling more to herself than to him.
"...let me help you. Running from your problems. Bleh bleh bleh. Don't need him."
Que was definitely angry with Aasir, and it made for a good distraction from the gaping hole of despair in her chest she was trying to patch over.
"Que," the Professor said again more sternly, just not out loud.
"Ugh, no," Que moaned letting her head hit the table and her arms fall to her sides.
"This isn't how you wanted this conversation to go, is it?" the Professor asked.
Que moved her head to the side so that her cheek was now pressed to the table. "No. Do I really need to meet with you guys?" she groaned, hoping for one last ditch effort at changing his mind.
"Yes, Que. You do. Just think of it as coaching. Making sure you're doing what you need to and that you have all the tools you need to be successful."
"Don't have much of a choice, do I?" she replied shortly, rolling her eyes.
"We always have choices, yet in this situation, I think your best bet might be to go with it and pick a preferred time for when you might want to check in. While your thinking, I am going to make some tea. Would you like some?" Charles asked trying to lighten the broody teen's mood.
He also figured she might appreciate some space as well. In the past half hour, he'd seen Que go from surly and defensive, to angry, then hysterical, crashing into hopelessness, to panic stricken, back to angry, and now back to anxiety mixed with defensive. If this were a test drive, he would have been granted a trip to the emergency room for severe whiplash. He glanced back at Que. She was still in the same place, but with her arms folded on the table and her head propped up on them. She had a cross look on her face as she continued to gaze ahead at nothing in particular. He could also hear her muttering to herself. That was new. He'd see her talk to herself before, but only when she was working on a project. It was one of her many quirks, like how she tended to talk obsessively about building things and was an encyclopedia of knowledge when it came to her favorite, magical book series.
Charles went ahead and prepped Que a cup just the way she use to like it when she first arrived at the mansion and they had evening chats. It felt like it had been ages since he had actually just sat and talked with the teen.
Once the tea finished brewing, Charles brought a tea tray back to the table. Que went silent as he approach and grabbed her cup as soon as the tray was set down. It was just a task. Something to keep busy. She poked at the handle some making it move in a slow circle, with a slightly annoying squeaking sound as it went.
"You know what I was just thinking about, Que?" the Professor asked casually.
Que gave him an odd look before replying, "No I do not. I'm not the mind reader here."
Charles gave a small laugh "I know Que. It was more a rhetorical question."
"Oh, right. Sorry. Aren't I still in trouble or what..." she asked, confused at the direction this conversation had taken.
"I've said all I really need to about that, and I think you have as well," he replied. "Have you chosen a time?"
Looking a bit put off by the question Que answered "Fine, after classes, before dinner." She wanted to make sure their time frame would be as short as she could get away with. Plus, she hoped things would come up in that time frame to make it almost impossible to meet. Classes ran late all the time, the Professor and the others probably had papers to review, and she wasn't the only one who ever got in trouble around here.
"Sounds like a plan. As I was saying, I realized that you have now been here almost a full year. You may not realize it, but you have come a long way since the first day we met you at your lighthouse," the Professor said.
"Hmm," Que replied, still more playing with her tea than drinking it.
"You could hardly walk around or sneeze without sending sparks and wind in your wake. You have also found you can manipulate the energy in multiple elements like fire and water. Plus, I think an even greater achievement than that, is that you are learning to trust and build real relationships with other people. You had so much mistrust when we met, and for the first three months you were here, you fought constantly with people and physically with Aasir for that matter," Charles said, lightly laughing.
Que did remember all of this and gave a small smile. It felt good to think back and know that she had made some progress, and maybe she wasn't quite as broken as she thought.
With the thought of Aasir, she frowned and sat up.
"I… he is still my friend. Isn't he? I was awful," she fretted.
"You will have to talk to him, and probably apologize yourself, but I think if he has put up with you this long, then yes you are," Charles replied, trying to keep it simple. Aasir was definitely head over heels for Que, and he was fairly sure Que felt the same. She just had not come to the same conclusion yet. Her intellectual knowledge might have been light years ahead of her peers, but her relational maturity was lacking.
" Que I want to make sure you keep making improvements and growing. I don't want to see you slide back into old habits, such as the outburst you had with Aasir and I. If you can share anything that's been going on, please. I may have the capability of reading your mind, but I will not invade your privacy. Thus, that also means if you want my help, you'll have to tell me because I really do not know what's going on," Charles said a little more compellingly.
Que knew this had been coming. For months now, she somehow knew she'd have to answer for her actions. The question irked and exasperated her all the same.
"What do you want me to say Professor? That I haven't really slept in months? That I feel like I want to crawl out of my skin? Or maybe it's that I'm so constantly angry that I can't stand myself?" she finally conceded.
"Well, that is a good place to start. Your not sleeping, we know has been a problem for a long time. We discussed that as a sign. When you are stressed, your nightmares tend to plague you more often. I thought they were easing up, but I hate to hear that they haven't gotten any better since Christmas. I wish you would have told me sooner. Feelings of anger and crawling out of your skin though are new. Can you elaborate?" Charles asked. He had a few ideas of what Que meant, but at the same time he wanted to see if she knew or could explain it herself.
Que stared at him blankly for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts. What did she mean? All that she said was true, but how could she explain that?
"I don't know," she groaned slumping back down into her chair.
"Alright, Que. I understand. We can try again another time. We can call it a night, and you may go whenever you wish. I think I'll stay a little longer and finish my tea," Charles could see the teen was done, and she would not be providing more information tonight. So, they sat there in silence, yet Que didn't leave when released. She did however get up and reheat her cooled tea and sat back down with the Professor. He noted that she was favoring her right side. Then, he noticed she was wearing hiking boots, which was strange, even for Que. Aasir had hastily glossed over that there had been a slight accident this afternoon when he was trying to explain why they'd be a bit late. Que sipped at her tea more this time and gazed out the window.
"Que, Aasir mentioned an accident this afternoon. Are you alright? Also, you're not required to sit with me if you don't wish to. You know that, yes?" Charles asked somewhat perplexed.
"I just twisted my ankle a little. I'll talk to Jean in the morning if it's still bothering me," she said quietly and then paused, still gazing out into the dark garden beyond the window. "I don't want to be alone."