- Author's Foreword -
DISCLAIMER: Any religious references presented are not intended as critical commentary, positive or negative, and do not represent my particular beliefs. In the 1930's most of England's orphanages were institutions built by Christian organizations or Christian philanthropists. I've chosen to model Wool's Orphanage after one of the "kinder" orphanages (...believe-it-or-not after this chapter...) and for plot reasons, as well as historical consistency, that includes some of the Christian and Victorian ideals that would have been pushed by the establishment.
III
Pressing Points and Baiting Beasts
Wool's Orphanage was certainly a practical institution, as Domino soon came to learn. Every day could be expected to pass in a fashion nearly identical to the one before.
Every morning Mrs. Cole's heels would clack down the stone hall as she banged a metal pipe against the doors. Every morning they'd don their numbered uniforms and line up in the hall for roll call. Every morning each child would call out their number, before proceeding downstairs for breakfast - Domino's was thirteen. Every morning they'd say prayers, and then the bullying and negotiating and pleading would begin as each child did their best to make out with a full, decent meal.
They'd spend every day on the building's ground floor, which was reserved for dining and education. The boys would learn crafts and march like good, little boys, and the girls would cook, sew, and clean like good, little girls. Some days volunteer teachers would come to the orphanage, and Domino would finally have a chance to read and think. Sundays they'd have Bible Study. Most days, however, they'd be left to their own devices outdoors, where she and Tom would go swap letters by the snake pot.
Every evening they'd have "sick call," in which each child was inspected for cleanliness and a minimum bill of health. And, every evening Mrs. Cole's assistant, Martha, would run down Domino's hallway, closing all the unlockable doors. Domino would wait for her roommates' breathing to slow, before finally sneaking a peek at the day's letter. And, thankfully, as perhaps the only true novelty of the day, Tom wrote something different every time.
Domino, you cannot keep giving Dennis your scraps. It cannot have escaped you that he is fat, and you are not. If you keep sharing food, they'll expect you to continue doing so in the winter. He'll be warm, and you will not - and then you'll die of pneumonia.
Domino sighed, lowering his letter to her chest. Sometimes, when giving advice, Domino swore Tom sounded just like her Aunt Deborah. Of course, he was probably right, as usual, but the truth didn't make it any easier to accept her new, harsh reality.
Her rickety bunk-bed creaked and groaned as she flipped over and onto her stomach. She waited for the flimsy bunk's trembling to subside, before carefully penning her reply.
Tomorrow she'd give this letter to Tom, and in return she'd get the letter with their superpowers conversation. She much preferred that one - it didn't involve bullies or updates on Mrs. Cole.
Ugh, Mrs. Cole…
It was already the third week of June and halfway through Domino's third week at the orphanage. Much to her chagrin, she'd been so tired and busy with her chores that she hadn't yet had an opportunity to enact her plan. Whenever she saw Mrs. Cole or Martha they were always too busy to chat, and whenever she was outdoors she was slipping earthworms to the snake or carefully avoiding suspicion by playing intently with the other children.
Patience certainly wasn't one of her superpowers, however, and, thus, she felt it was time for more drastic action - it was time to bait the beast.
If nothing else, Domino Dewey was certainly entertaining. Aside from his powers, their daily correspondence was Tom's only relief from the monotony that was orphanage life. However, he supposed it merely confirmed what he already knew - Wool's Prison had set his standards so low that even some obnoxious girl had become tolerable.
As Tom rounded the fountain and strode over to the snake-inhabited pot, a slight spring in his step, he was quite startled to find Domino sprawled out in the grass, kicking her feet against the fountain rim and staring lovingly at his pet snake. Her legs stopped swishing back and forth, and her eager face snapped upwards as soon as she heard Tom's rather loud entrance.
A beaming smile affixed to her face, Domino glowed as she whispered, "Tom! She's laid her eggs! Come look!"
"Domino, what are you still doing over here?! You know Mrs. Cole will be watching," Tom hissed, far more concerned for his own welfare than that of some baby snakes.
It wasn't that he was in any real physical danger per se - Mrs. Cole and her staff had learned the hard way that bad things tend to happen when you try to discipline Tom. However, Tom couldn't risk more complications with his one and only steady, human correspondence. Mrs. Cole and the others were always warning people away, and he was bound and determined not to let that foolish woman win this time.
"Exactly, Tom! I want her to see. It's all part of my master plan," she cackled, releasing one of the least-threatening evil laughs he'd ever heard.
"And, what exactly is this master plan?" he asked coolly.
Giving, perhaps, one of the most infuriating responses known to man, she replied, "It's a surprise."
Tom hated surprises. Nothing good ever came from surprises. Surprise! You've caught pneumonia. Surprise! It's a bully. Surprise! You've wet the bed. Surprise! It's a lie.
No. Surprises were for idiots, idiots who thought nothing bad would ever touch them. And, Tom was no fool. He knew the less surprises there were in your life the better - planning and preparation always won the day.
"Not a chance, Domino. Tell me this plan, and tell me now," he ordered in his best authoritative voice.
"No! I'm not letting you suck the fun out of everything!" the girl cried indignantly.
"I do not suck the fun out of everything," he snapped.
She was just like all the other children - obsessed with fun and play and all their other little hedonistic desires. Well, Tom refused to be bound by a bunch of exploitable human needs. Domino was just far too simple-minded to see how her attachments made her weak.
"Oh, really?" drawled Domino, squinting her eyes in a quite pathetic attempt at a glare, "What was the last fun thing you actually did?"
Hilarious. Domino was actually attempting to compare him, Tom Marvolo Riddle, to the likes of Billy Stubbs and Amy Benson. And, of course, as usual, the competition had nothing to do with his considerable skill or his superior intellect or even his hidden power - it was all about popularity and "fun."
Recalling his latest victory, he answered with a sly grin, "Carpentry - carpentry class was fun."
"Uh huh," Domino murmured, her face drooping into a rather dumb-looking expression of disbelief, "And, was it actually the carpentry that was fun or the way Billy Stubbs' doll house 'mysteriously' caught on fire."
"You heard about that?" Tom blurted out in surprise.
"Please!" scoffed Domino, rolling her eyes, "All Amy does is talk…"
Of course. Dennis and Amy were thick as thieves, and Dennis had surely relayed the juicy gossip to that mongering Amy. Still, he was rather pleased that news of his exploits had traveled so quickly.
"Well! Domino, I take great offense at the implication," lied Tom as he reclined against the stone fountain and drawled exaggeratedly, an affronted expression on his face, "There was absolutely nothing mysterious about it! Mr. Cole is clearly the culprit. Truly, what idiot walks around with a lit cigarette in a room full of precious, wooden works of art?"
"Uh huh," Domino murmured again, sidling up next to Tom without her disbelieving expression budging an inch, "And, the cigarette flying around the room and into Billy's playhouse you had absolutely nothing to do with?"
The corners of Tom's feigned frown twitched into a smirk. So, they did notice? Good. Now, everyone would know it was him, but no one would be able to prove it - just how he liked it.
Tom's nostrils flared as his mouth toyed with a much-less-dignified grin. However, his self-discipline won the battle as usual.
He stated innocently, "Perhaps Billy's wooden dolls should've invested in less flammable building materials… or at least a decent fire evacuation plan."
Domino rolled her eyes and scoffed, "Now you're just being ridiculous."
Ridiculous? Domino was getting much too comfortable with calling him names. He'd need to find a way to keep her in line without things going the way of Billy Stubbs. Besides, didn't she just ask him to be more fun? Girls were weird.
"I am never ridiculous, Domino. What is ridiculous is expecting me to have fun building homes when it's far more entertaining to burn them down," Tom explained quite reasonably.
Domino's face scrunched up again into that scowl that made her look like an angry kitten. It was quite… stupid.
"So, you admit it!" she cried, jumping onto her knees and spinning around, so that she might glare accusingly at Tom.
Tom's lips twitched into a leering smile yet again. He would never put a confession in writing, but there was nothing stopping him from reveling in the rumors for a bit…
"Ah, you should've seen it, Domino! The dolls were all charred and twisted and smoking - it was hilarious!"
Failing to see the obvious humor, Domino's eyes narrowed further as she said, "That doesn't sound very funny to me."
Of course, she didn't get it. Jokes were only funny when you weren't the subject of the joke. Humor was relative. Ethics were relative.
"Then, perhaps you need to invest in a better sense of humor," Tom retorted.
Domino released a frustrated growl from between her bared teeth. Now, she looked like an angry kitten that wanted to be a lion. It was quite amusing, really.
"What do you have against Billy Stubbs anyway?" she demanded all of the sudden, "What'd he ever do to you?"
Tom was so sick and tired of that traitorous Billy Stubbs. How did Domino even hear about that? Was Billy talking about him? Most people had forgotten all about Tom's ill-fated "friendship" with Billy Stubbs. They had all stopped talking about that years ago… No, Tom wanted nothing more to do with that kid - not unless it was to be present for Billy groveling at his feet!
"I'm not going to waste my time attempting to educate you, Domino," he said icily, arrogance dripping from the words like venom.
"I'm not asking for an entire education, Tom - I just want to know what you have against Billy Stubbs! Sheesh!" she cried out in exasperation as she sat back on her heels and waved her hands about ridiculously, "You have no problem insulting everyone else…"
No one else has any problem insulting me… thought Tom indignantly, though he quickly shooed that thought away.
Tom had decided long ago that he was done playing the victim. No matter what stories he told people, he knew no one was coming to save him. Life was cruel, reality was cruel, and the only way out was to save yourself. Anything else was for children.
"Well, it's hardly my fault that you're such easy targets," he quipped.
"Billy was your friend, wasn't he?" Domino asked quietly, her sudden gentle tone quite unsettling.
The premise that this completely unremarkable girl had secret powers was exceedingly absurd. However… sometimes she'd make these uncanny leaps of logic or ask a question in just the right way that it left a painful pang in Tom's chest. There was definitely something off about her, and whatever it was, Tom would find some way to use it.
"I don't have friends," Tom stated matter-of-factly.
It was true, and there was no reason to deny it. Friends made you weak, and Tom was not weak.
"Uh huh. Well then," exclaimed the stubborn girl as she crossed her arms and rocked her head back and forth in an infuriating display of sass, "I guess it's time for test number two of my psychic powers…"
Tom narrowed his eyes into his most fearsome glare. There was no way he'd tell her about Billy - that would play right into Mrs. Cole's hands.
"Careful, Domino," he hissed in warning, "You don't want to cross me."
It was too late, however. Tom could see it in the stubborn set of her jaw and that far-off look in her eyes. He'd been observing her carefully over the past few weeks, stealing covert glances across the dining hall and subtle glimpses from across the courtyard. This was how she looked right before she charged bull-headed into some ill-advised tirade.
"I think you hurt him. I think he didn't want to be friends anymore, and you can't stand being ignored," she snapped, that rebellious gleam in her eyes just daring Tom to disagree.
"You're wrong," Tom disagreed.
"Am I? Then, you seem pretty angry over nothing to me!" she said mockingly, her voice cloaked in false pleasantness.
Tom could see her writhing in pain on the dead ground in front of him, twisting and turning like a human made snake. He imagined her choking on grass as he stuffed it down her throat, Domino drowning in it like Dennis and Amy drowning that summer. Who knew what could happen? Maybe Domino would be foolish enough to accompany him to the cave this year…
But, no. No, that ran contrary to Tom's plans, and his desires always took precedence. He couldn't ensure that she'd keep writing to him if he tortured her. So, for now, he'd just have to make do with burning houses and such.
Tom sighed, "I didn't hurt him."
Thankfully, Domino's frustration faded as she accepted this morsel of information. She sidled up to Tom's side once more, her body quite warm against his shoulder.
"No? Then, why not just tell me?" she whispered, "Go ahead - tell me your side of the story."
Tom had to admit it - he was intrigued. No one had ever cared much for his input before. Despite his obvious superiority, the adults always sided with Billy's shy smile or Amy's pigtails and batting lashes or even Dennis' loud mouth. In a place best distinguished by everything being completely indistinguishable, the only added description Tom had ever received was "freak" - and no one cared what the freak thought.
New kids were always different, softer. They hadn't yet been molded and hardened by the orphanage's way of thinking. Billy had been like that, and then Tom had lost him. Domino would be taken too, so what did it matter?
Tom muttered, "He was my only friend, and they were going to take him away. I just wanted him to stay… I made sure he stayed…"
"Oh," Domino replied dumbly, as usual, "And, he wanted to go?"
There was no point in lying. The story was well-known around the orphanage - Mrs. Cole has seen to that. And, once the holier-than-thou matron had spotted Domino sitting over here with the "freak," she was sure to give Domino an earful of everything vile from her second-favorite, religiously-read book - The Evil Life of Tom.
"Yes. He liked them," answered Tom, trying to sound bored but quickly finding himself overcome by years of unresolved anger, "And, he was just going to leave me here! After all we'd been through, he was just going to leave me here and never look back - some friend he was!"
Tom's breathing was heavy, heavy as it always was after stupid people made him rage. Domino's arm was still warm at his side, while the stone fountain was cool at his back. A light, June breeze rustled through their overgrown play spot, which was just a tad chilly as they sat in the shade. A minute or so passed as the orphans just reclined there, sinking into the dark soil.
"Okay," said Domino finally, her voice soft but sure, "Thank you for telling me."
"That's it?" Tom blurted out once more.
Truly, Tom was growing concerned that he needed to work a bit harder at his composure. He was more than adequately prepared for the average harsh day, but Domino's abnormal behavior kept catching him off guard.
"Well, yeah. I'm sorry that happened to you, but I thought you wouldn't want to talk about it anymore," she explained quietly, casting her gaze downward as she idly drew some squiggly shapes in the dirt.
What was she playing at? Tom's mind quickly flitted from possibility to possibility. Right about now, a normal person would be moseying away from him. Perhaps they'd call him names or rant about how he'd ruined Billy's life or preach about how Tom deserved Hell. Any reasonably intelligent orphan would recognize that he was a threat. Truly, despite all of his best guidance, it would appear that Domino was still hopeless when it came to adopting a viable orphanage survival strategy.
"You're not going to tell me how selfish and evil I am?" sneered Tom, figuring that Domino was likely just horrible at communicating her disdain.
Her gaze popped back up to his, and she inquired with a puzzled expression, "No? What good would that do?"
Indeed. She's hopeless, thought Tom.
This was just going to be too easy! What a shame. He always enjoyed a good challenge, and this almost seemed unsporting… Not even a snake bothers with dead prey. Oh well, it was no matter - Wool's Prison had set his standards so low.
"I don't know. You're just odd," Tom admitted in a rather merciful stroke of honesty.
Domino leaned her head back against the rim of the fountain. Bushy vines trembled in the slight breeze, casting funny, moving shadows over her face as she fixed him with an unblinking stare.
"So are you," she said.
"Miss Dewey!" shrieked Mrs. Cole, her voice warbling as it always did when she was unpleasantly surprised, "I am so very disappointed. Come along! Now!"
And just like that, a bony hand descended from the sky, snatching away the only human gullible enough to converse with Tom without disdain. As Mrs. Cole yanked her to her feet, Domino struggled under the matron's steel grip and sputtered incoherently. And, as Mrs. Cole dragged Domino inside, most likely headed for the cane, Domino seemed far too preoccupied with the woman's tight squeeze on her arm.
Tom sighed, "She's so weak."
"Domino Dewey, you have been warned, you have been warned, you have been warned…" muttered the matron as she withdrew a thin, hooked cane from a cupboard, "I had hoped a nice girl like yourself would be able to follow simple instructions without resorting to such measures… But, I can see you won't learn unless I press the point."
Mrs. Cole thwacked the cane against her desk to emphasize her point of "pressing the point." Domino rubbed at her arm, while staring fearfully at the wooden cane. It looked just like a shepherd's crook from the Bible, though it looked a lot less threatening next to the fluffy, white sheep. Gulping back her fear, Domino sincerely hoped that she'd done enough research at today's Bible Study class - her whole plan hinged on it.
Domino imitated Tom's favorite neutral expression and said seriously, "Mrs. Cole, I understand. Punish me, if you must. This is what God wants."
Mrs. Cole gripped the cane tightly in both hands and tilted her head to one side. Her face wore an expression of both affront and shock, as if Domino had caused her some great offense by accepting her plight so blithely.
"I beg your pardon! Miss Dewey, what is this nonsense?" snapped Mrs. Cole, her right hand flying up to her tucked-in crucifix.
"Mrs. Cole, ma'am, I've been praying a lot ever since you mentioned how God sends boys like Tom to test us," Domino explained innocently, while silently praying that Tom's fire would mysteriously "test" that cane, "I couldn't help but wonder how God was testing me."
"Miss Dewey, God does not expect anything from you - except that you do what you're told!" shouted the matron.
She sent Domino a meaningful glare, though she seemed quite distressed. Her gaze continually drifted to a cabinet by her desk. Domino could only guess what sort of cruel and unusual punishments the woman stored in there…
"Now, turn around!" Mrs. Cole continued, "Let's get this over with."
Domino's heart was racing in her small chest. She'd been spanked before, a long time ago, but she wasn't the sort of disobedient child that often found herself in these positions. That cane did not look "fun" in the slightest - after this, she certainly would be expecting Tom to deliver!
"But, I think God does expect more from me, Mrs. Cole," Domino argued as she resumed her risky, religious narrative, "I think he spoke to me. Ephesians five two… 'And walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.' It came to me in Bible Study, Mrs. Cole. I need to make a loving sacrifice - to do like Christ did."
Mrs. Cole's distress was growing. She twisted the cane in her hands, wringing it like a dirty dishrag. Domino had learned from Tom that Mrs. Cole was very devout in her faith, and took great pride in making sure everyone knew it. Of course, Domino didn't really need him to tell her that - everyone knew it.
"That has nothing to do with Tom, Miss Dewey - that boy is beyond love and help," the matron uttered flippantly, though she was clearly at odds with herself.
"But, Mrs. Cole!" Domino cried in protest, eager to press her point, "It happened right after I bumped into him on the stairs this morning… And, the Sunday after you warned me about Tom's trespasses, it was Galatians six one… 'Brethren, even if anyone is caught in any trespass, you who are spiritual, restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness.'"
Mrs. Cole's lips were pursed tight, and her complexion had grown ruddy. Her inner turmoil had lent her face the appearance of a pink balloon about to pop.
Balloon meet needle, thought Domino.
Domino clasped her hands together and shook them emphatically as she said, "Mrs. Cole, I've prayed and prayed about it, and I really think I'm supposed to help redeem Tom. He was just telling me about his regrets and his friendship with Billy Stubbs, and I really think he can be saved. If I must be caned, then I guess that's all part of my sacrifice. Jesus died to save sinners, so the least I can do is be caned."
"Psychic may not be the right term, but there is definitely something abnormal about you. You're definitely a freak," noted Tom.
Truly, the subject needed to be breached and this odd behavior addressed. Tom resented the word "freak" - mostly because it was always applied to him - but he truly thought such harsh truths were important for young Domino's growth. The freak needed to learn, for her own sake - okay, mostly for Tom's.
"A freak?" she muttered as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat of grass, "I'm not some mutant, Tom."
Domino was moving rather stiffly ever since she'd returned from Mrs. Cole's office, but Tom didn't dare ask about the cane. It was a matter of pride at the orphanage to endure the cane without tears, and Domino's eyes looked dry enough… Besides, Tom didn't want to call any attention to the fact if she had indeed been caned. He didn't like the idea of giving Domino any more leverage over him. It wasn't like he really owed her or anything, but if she'd been caned for him then… well, she might think he owed her.
Tom pressed his point instead, sneering with emphasis, "Well, I'm afraid that's not for you to decide, is it? No one gets to pick how they're born."
"Fine, but that makes you the friend of a freak, Tom," Domino said as she finally found an acceptable sitting position, her legs curled to one side.
Friend? Well then… his efforts had been successful. Soon, she would be completely under his control, and it would be too late for her to escape.
With a greedy grin, Tom replied, "Well… I suppose that can't be helped either."
She sighed, casting more weight onto her side as they both sat and watched the snake. Domino certainly seemed more serious than usual. Since she'd returned, she hadn't even asked any jarring personal questions or prodded him to demonstrate his powers or tested one of her crazy, new ideas… Truly, she was currently very silent and moderately tolerable - would wonders never cease?
"Also, you better keep up your end of the deal," she huffed, her face holding a rather impressive neutral aspect, "Mrs. Cole needs to see you acting nicer or she'll never believe you can be redeemed."
So, that's what was occupying her thoughts - Mrs. Cole. Tom certainly hoped the girl's no-doubt-wacky musings included at least a few creative punishments for that cruel, old matron.
"Were you lying?" asked Tom, eager to explore the dark depths of Domino's freakish mind.
"What?" she said dumbly, as usual, though the question lacked her usual amusing, dramatic flair.
Applying his considerable intellect, Tom pinpointed the most critical information to clarify. It was quite obvious, really - the most important, advantageous information always involved him.
"Were you lying about me being redeemable?" he drawled lazily, twirling a few long blades of grass around his pointer finger.
Domino appeared to be aggravated by this, though her ministrations once again lacked their usual liveliness. She glared at the tuft of grass that Tom was engaging, as if she thought she could actually start fires with her mind - please! The destructive superpowers had all been properly listed as Tom's…
"No, I'm not a liar, Tom! I don't lie," she snapped.
Tom rolled his eyes. Pretending you didn't lie, pretending you didn't do wrong or crave the darkness was probably the worst lie of them all. Domino was in desperate need of an education.
"Everyone lies," Tom stated plainly, since Domino's education clearly needed to begin with the most basic of facts.
She bristled, a touch of lively vigor returning to her bland demeanor. Good. Domino was no use to him so gloomy and dejected.
"That's not true!" she protested, scrunching her face into that angry-kitten scowl, "You can just say things nicely or not say them at all…"
Tom encouraged Domino with one of his most ingratiating smirks. Yes, he was quite pleased. He had thought her to be a hopeless case, but here she was, blossoming into a sly, ruthless manipulator. He had to admit that he was quite impressed with her skillful handling of the 'Mrs. Cole situation.' Cruelly using the woman's own false beliefs against her was truly a stroke of genius.
"Ah, so you prefer more sophisticated manipulation?" Tom whispered conspiratorially.
"What?!" she shrieked, some color finally returning to her paled cheeks, "I am not manipulative, Tom! I'm just good at getting my way."
Ah, so it was all an act! What a clever ploy… feigning innocence, even while she pushed and prodded others to serve her own ends. Perhaps her naivétè was all just an act as well…
"And, how exactly is that different?" Tom asked mockingly, hoping to goad her into revealing her true nature.
However, Domino's temper cooled instead as she arranged her face into one of the most infuriating impressions of one of their volunteer teachers that he'd ever seen. Sure, Domino had an impressive grasp on English grammar and vocabulary, but why on Earth would she think she had anything to teach Tom? He'd have surpassed her by several thousand leagues by now if he'd gone to one of those privileged, children-with-parents schools.
"It's different, because I don't use my secret power to hurt people," she preached, while Tom reminisced about her recent trip to the cane, "I only manipulate them if it doesn't hurt them or if it helps them."
On the other hand, perhaps Domino was simply in denial. She was a soft "new kid" after all, and she had yet to peel back those flimsy layers of childhood innocence that so many clung to. Fortunately, Tom could be patient. Childhood would end for her soon enough, and Tom would be there to shape and harness all of that dark, blossoming potential.
"You just admitted to being manipulative," Tom said pointedly.
With a huff, Domino bolted onto her knees, pressing her face close to his as she affixed him with another one of those angry-kitten glares. Her short breaths were rather loud next to his ear, and he could even count a few light freckles on her nose that he hadn't spotted before. Normally, he hated being touched or having his personal space invaded or really just having anyone in his general vicinity. However, this girl's fury was even more amusing up close, and the thought that she could ever be a threat to Tom Riddle was laughable.
"Oh yeah?" growled the girl, clearly distressed at her flimsy facade being ousted, "Well, you just admitted to burning people's buildings down!"
Tom merely chuckled. Blackmail, extortion, redirecting blame and attention to others' misdemeanors - oh yes, he and Domino were going to have "fun."
Tom snatched up a small stick from a crack near the stone fountain's base. He twirled it around in his fingers, practicing one of the impressive figure-8 patterns he'd worked on. Presentation was everything.
"Ah, yes. I see your efforts at my redemption are going splendidly," he quipped.
A forceful puff of breath brushed past his cheek as she huffed, "That doesn't count - it happened before this! Besides, you only have to act nice so that we can work together on our secret missions."
Ah, so this was all just a massive cover-up. Her faith in his acting skills was duly noted… He supposed even a lowly con-artist such as herself could recognize the mark of a true master. Yes, Tom Riddle was quite pleased. In fact, as she crouched at his side, doing her angry kitten impression, Tom was more than a little tempted to pet her ashy-brown head. Good cat.
"I understand, Domino," Tom drawled, moving his twirling fingers closer to her scowling face, "As long as you understand that I will be far more successful at corrupting you than you will be at redeeming me."
Domino's features sprung into a look of unpleasant surprise, before she whispered in one of those irritating, gentle tones that did strange things to Tom's insides, "You say that like you're actually bad."
Has she not been paying attention? thought Tom in exasperation.
Honestly, she'd been warned by all and most likely caned. Not to mention, he'd basically just admitted to burning a former friend's house down.
"I am bad," he stated simply, though he was quite irritated with her for making him state the obvious.
"No, you're not!" she gasped, "Why would you even say that?"
Right about now, Mrs. Cole would have been nodding approvingly or the other children would have begun citing his many offenses. However, Tom felt none of that would have been quite as infuriating as this. This was his life - how dare she judge him! Now he couldn't even admit to being bad without it being bad…
Tom sighed and tried to imagine he was just explaining all of this to one of the orphanage's bumbling five-year-olds.
"Because bad is just relative, Domino," he said coolly, "People judge in terms of what affects them. I'll let them hate me for now, and then one day, when I leave this place, I'll go somewhere people think I'm good."
Tom hadn't really meant for his explanation to come out that way. Truly, it sounded far too hopeful for his tastes. This Domino girl was having a bad effect on him…
"Well, I think you're good, and you're already here," she replied sharply, finishing with a quite unnecessary Hmph.
Several long blinks later, Tom was still having trouble coming up with an adequate retort to that atrocity of a statement. Truly, this Domino was a horrible influence. In times of doubt, however, he always resorted to his trusty fallback plan - hurling insults.
"You are such a freak."