Chapter Five: Fool's Errand

Caroline's hand slams down on the table inches from my nose. My head jerks up off my arms reflexively, and I narrow my eyes at her.

“What.”

“Pay attention! Where is your head today, Reid?”

It has been nowhere I want to admit to. I've been analyzing that Type Three girl almost incessantly since our encounter two weeks ago. I've spent spare hours in the cafeteria, even gone to all my classes, but the student body is unusually silent about her. I assume this is because she is spending her time either with her Teacher or in the dorms, but part of me is beginning to wonder if she exists at all. The memory has an unreal quality. Her hair. The blankness in her eyes when she verbally abused me without realizing it. She hadn't even been looking at me half the time. Her eyes had darted about as she swayed gently in place, completely unaware of how awkward her body appeared. Typical. The stronger the empath, the less they manage to take care of themselves. Bastian was usually bleeding from one appendage or another, and Elene often forgot to change her clothes, or brush her hair, or sleep. No wonder that boy had been shadowing her.

“Reid!” Caroline bats me on the side of the head and sits down across from me. “Seriously. What is going on in there?”

I decide to try honesty. I want to see how she reacts to me thinking about another girl. “That Type Three who just arrived. Do you know her name?”

Caroline giggles girlishly. “Oh, I was right! What did she do to you?”

“Nothing. I just want to know her name.”

“Asha.” It rolls off her tongue with such ease that I can only assume she's had a long conversation about her at least once. That's a telling sign.

“Desmond's her teacher, then?”

She blinks in surprise, but nods, then continues. “I can also tell you her dorm and when she's scheduled to meet with him. Do yourself a favor and go find her, otherwise you're going to be useless for weeks.”

I check my wristband lazily. “But Caroline, we have another hour and a half before I am free, and you know how much I cherish the time we have together.”

She raps her knuckles on the table briskly and ignores the jibe with uncharacteristic success. “Tell you what. If you promise to go find her right now, this instant, and get this out of your system, I'll cut our lesson short.”

It is my turn to blink in surprise. In the two years I have known her, Caroline has never cut a lesson short without first being furious at me. “What's the catch?”

“You have to tell me what she's like. I'm incredibly curious, and Desmond won't let me near her right now because I'd be a distraction during lessons.”

I don't want to go. I'm worried what message me seeking her out will send. But then again, she may not even be coherent enough socially yet to see a message at all. But the boy will, and he won't like it. The entire visit will be a waste if I can't get her away from him.

“Do you know if the boy who's glued to her has had his lessons yet?”

“Actually, I do. Nanda—he has a name, you know—has his lessons in less than an hour.”

Well, that's one problem down, but I still can't help but think Caroline has another ulterior motive. I guess I'll find out after the fact.

“Fine. What dorm is she in?”

“Hanakawa.”

“Of course she is,” I mutter, and Caroline peers at me quizzically over her glasses.

“Is that a problem?”

“Only if Diane is home,” I reply. Caroline gives another giggle, so I can only assume the Teachers are also aware of the flaming wreck that was my relationship with Diane. I feel my cheeks flush with a combination of embarrassment and rage. Why I had decided to pursue the only student on campus more vindictive than I am I will never know, but it did not end well. Then again, it was my fault she was angry at me, so in a way, she had every right to spread all those rumors. A weaker man would care, but I am content to let her exact her vengeance.

“Alright, Caroline, I'll be your little spy.”

“Enjoy your day off, Reid.” She gives me a rare smile, gathers her things in a rush, and strides out the door, her heels practically oozing purpose. I have the sudden urge to follow her instead and see what she's so eager to run off to, but I am marginally more interested in the girl. It wasn't difficult to guess, anyway; Caroline's skirt had been even shorter than usual. She must have a date planned. That would explain the giggling, the lack of caring that I was so distracted by the girl—Asha—and letting me off the hook for an admittedly inane reason.

I gather my pack and peer grumpily out from under the archway. It is raining today, and Hanakawa is on the other end of campus. The water is wetting the leaves and enhancing the smell of their decay. Autumn is such a morbid season. Things here may not turn to slime when it rains, but being surrounded by the stench of half-dead trees is not what I would call a dramatic improvement. I hunch my shoulders and spend as much time on the covered walkways between buildings as I can on my trek to find Asha. The entryway of Hanakawa consumes me in dimness as I step in and remove my shoes.

“Anyone home?” I call, hoping to find Elene, who seems to actually like me.

“Now there's a voice I never thought I'd hear in here again.”

“...Diane.”

She steps out of the kitchen and into the foyer, wiping her hands on a kitchen cloth. “What brings you here? Finally decided to confront me over all the rumors?”

“No, actually. The rumors are funny, though. Nice work. I am here looking for Asha.”

Her eyes narrow. “You have a thing for short, dark-skinned girls, don't you?”

“Caroline sent me on an errand, Diane. Calm down.”

“Don't fucking tell me what to do.” She sidles closer and looks up at me, brown eyes hollow, every strand of her black hair perfectly, strategically framing her face. Once you know her, you can't help thinking of spider webs every time she pats it into place. “What's her location worth to you?”

I shrug, and she scowls. “You're even less fun than you used to be.”

“And you're even more angry.” Now I smile, which turns out to be a mistake.

“Well, that's what happens when you cheat on someone, isn't it? You're just lucky I haven't figured out who she was!”

I grin down at her. “You never will. Anyway, you could have left those nail marks and you know it.”

She snorts. “Right. Those were fresh, but I was on top the night before. It makes perfect sense!”

I raise an eyebrow and make sure to keep my face blank. “Look, her wristband says she's here.”

“She took it off.” Diana bares her teeth again. “Tell me who the bitch is and I'll tell you where to find the primitive.”

I mess with my wristband, checking for Nanda's whereabouts, hoping she won't put two and two together yet. She must not know I know the two are inseperable.

“Do you not like her?” I ask casually.

“What was your first clue?” Diane shifts her weight to one hip and crosses her arms. “She's half naked most of the time, and when she's around it's like having two Elenes. One was bad enough. Constantly asking stupid questions, too. And she's always, always in my head. Just lurking, and absorbing information. She knows more about me than she should, and I keep catching myself craving tea.”

“Living with a powerful personality is good training,” I mutter, lowering my wrist. Nanda is in the Arboretum. Naturally. This day keeps getting better and better. I consider giving up and heading back to my dorm, but knowing Caroline she'll insist I make up the lost lesson time if I don't spend time with Asha today. Sighing, I shoulder my pack and turn for the door.

“Isn't Caroline going to be angry if you don't meet up with her?” Diane asks in a grating singsong.

“She's in the Arboretum with Nanda. See you later, Diane. It's been something.”

The kitchen towel splats against my left ear as I leave. I ignore it, largely by focusing on how childish she acted during our entire encounter. Was she always so shallow? I suppose something good came of fucking my Teacher, after all.

The Arboretum is near the building Caroline and I meet in, so by the time I get back over to that side of campus I am soaking wet and more than slightly grumpy. It is dryer than I expected underneath the trees, however; they are large, and I am told they are also old, and they seem to be channeling most of the water away from their bases with the leaves remaining upon their gnarled branches. The canopy above me is crimson, and makes the rest of the day seem even more overcast. The path is dry and crunches beneath my boots.

I hear them before I see them. Asha is singing in a high, clear voice. I can't understand the words, but the sound is beautiful, and also eerie. Her voice dissipates through the trees so well that I have a hard time tracking it to its source. When I find them, they look so content that I almost turn back yet again. Asha has her back against a huge sycamore—the only tree I know by sight because of its smooth bark—and Nanda is lying at her feet with his head in her lap. She has her head tilted back as if she is looking at the leaves above her, but her eyes are shut. Her fingers are buried in Nanda's hair, and I am not surprised to find that, for once, he appears neither tired nor grumpy. Their clothing is the same as ever. Wait, no. The style is the same, but they have traded animal skin for cloth. Their pants are heavy, loose-cut denim, and their shirts are cotton. Asha's is sheer and clings to her just as the leather did, but the result is more provocative. She seems more exposed than she did before. Her bare shoulders make me feel awkward, and I take a step back.

A twig snaps beneath my boots, and they both jerk onto their haunches, ready to spring. Nanda's eyes find me instantly, and he glares at me beneath his bangs. His hand had moved to his left thigh reflexively when he heard me; that must be where he used to keep his obsidian knife. I wonder if he feels as naked without it as I do without my wristband.

Asha gazes at my left ear, clearly confused by my presence. “Reid! We did not know you were there!” she murmurs. I am surprised she remembers me, or even knows my name.

“Sorry. I didn't want to interrupt,” I explain, stepping forward.

“Why were you hiding?” Nanda asks me tersely.

“What?”

“We can't feel you,” Asha explains to the trees to my right, eyes rolled halfway back into her head. I can see why she unsettles Diane. She looks like a beautiful, walking corpse.

“Oh, right. That. I'm like this all the time, Asha.”

Nanda beckons me over and silently tells me to sit. Even then I am substantially taller than both of them. He smooths his hair self-consciously and then turns to me.

“What did you need?”

“Nothing, actually. I just wanted to see how you two were doing.”

His lips draw into a thin line. “I am confused by this. Our last meeting wasn't exactly...polite.”

I point at Asha, who has fallen over onto one side and is staring raptly at a flowering weed eking out a living inches from her nose. “Nanda, I have worked and lived with empaths for three years. I know when to take what they say to heart and when to cut them some slack.” Nanda runs his hand over her hair and says something to her in their native language. She makes a very sulky noise and rolls over onto her back.

“She does not want to talk to you.” Nanda gives me an apologetic shrug, but I think he is secretly exasperated with her. They are not related, though the data files say they have the same last name, but he would be more patient with her if they were married. Native marriages last for life; I've been told they are far better at forgiveness as a result.

“What did I do?”

“You're keeping her out. She...is not very good at using words.”

“Does she not want practice?”

“She gets enough practice from Desmond.”

“How does she speak to other non-empaths, then?”

“She doesn't.”

I give a short laugh. Her head turns toward me, but her eyes stay focused on something distant. I feel transparent; I do not enjoy the sensation.

“Asha. You'll be meeting a lot of people soon who can't communicate like you do. Nanda, everyone you two have met have been Type Twos, right?”

He nods slowly.

“I'm a Type One. Even if I were readable, we couldn't talk like you wanted. You'd still have to tell me what you were thinking. I'm barely empathic at all.”

Her facial expression doesn't change, but the look on Nanda's face suggests she is giving this serious thought. He gives me an uncertain smile and leaves her be. I do the same, since he knows her better than I do by far, and making a good impression with him is essential.

“You have practice with strong empaths.” His dark eyes bore into me, and I experience the uncomfortable sensation of familiarity caused by his mind wrapping around mine. He's trying to break in, and he comes closest to succeeding out of everyone I have yet met. He's a Type Two, alright—barely. With the right training he could easily gain more power.

“Yes, I do.” I don't elaborate, and Nanda gets the point and backs off. He's more adept socially than I expected. He had a good mentor on his planet, perhaps, or loving parents. Asha had clearly been lacking both, and I can't help but wonder why. Natives are incredibly xenophobic, I know, but was that the entire reason? Were her blue eyes enough to make her a complete outsider? If I can't get her to speak to me today, I'll never know.

“Have I caught her at a particularly contrary moment?” I ask, plucking at a stray grass blade.

Nanda gives me a rueful grin. “Yes, you have. Lessons were...trying for her today. Desmond doesn't make things easy.” There is a hint of dissatisfaction in his tone.

“Do you think your Teacher does, then, or simply that hers is too hard on her?”

“...I have less that needs reworking than Asha.”

I am not quite sure what to make of his response. I am about to ask for clarification when Nanda's wristband sounds. He mutters something in his language that sounds suspiciously vulgar.

“I am late for my meeting with my Teacher. Asha-na, we have to go.”

She looks over at him, more or less, and shakes her head.

“I can stay with her if you want, Nanda. If she won't speak, I have coursework with me.” I give my pack a jovial pat and smile winningly. Luckily, he doesn't know me well enough for this to make him suspicious. If anyone from my classes saw me smile, they'd likely die of fear.

“I...alright. I will be back in an hour and a half. If she decides to go back to the dorm, you may leave her with Elene if you wish.”

“What, can Asha not take care of herself?”

“What do you think, Reid?” he asks irritably, standing and brushing off his pants. “If she could, don't you think I'd leave her be?”

Personally, I don't think he would, but I know better than to say that to him now, when he is doing what I want him to. He says goodbye to Asha and walks down the path, looking back over his shoulder once or twice. For a moment I am surprised that he so willingly left the girl he cares about so deeply with an almost complete stranger, but then I remember two things. First, there are too few people and too many predators on his planet for them to spend time harming one another. Second, if I do anything Asha doesn't like, every damn empath on this campus will know instantly.

I look down at her. She's still on her back, but her eyes are now shut. Her braid is thrown over her left shoulder, snaking its way between her breasts, ending at her thighs. The cord she used to tie it matches the shirt perfectly—lavender, a color I almost never see here. It makes her skin look edible. I wonder idly what she would do if I lowered my face to that gorgeous scar on her neck and gave it a good lick. Bad idea if she got angry, worse idea if she liked it—either way, Nanda would never let me near her again. I take a cue from her and lie back, looking up at the dying leaves overhead.

“What are you doing, anyway?” I ask, but I don't really expect a response. For a few moments it appears as though I won't be getting one, but then her voice breaks the silence, the words quiet and only slightly accented.

“Getting to know the campus.” Her hand reaches up and she begins to rub absently at the scar. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, filling my nose with the smell of dirt and shutting out the sight of her slender fingers.

“Out in the middle of the Arboretum?” I try to keep my voice polite, though I am not sure she'd even understand tone.

“No, the people. They're showing me.” There is a rustle to my left; she is shifting to face me. I open my eyes and turn my head and am met with a surprising sight; her eyes are open, and focused directly on me. She has the longest lashes I have ever seen. I smile at her, happy to find that there is something to her after all, once everyone else has been stripped away. With Nanda gone, she seems more assertive.

“Can't you take a walk around like a normal person?” Less tactful than it sounded in my head. Luckily, she doesn't seem to care. She shakes her head in the exaggerated way she has and gives a little sigh of exasperation. I have obviously missed the point she is trying to make. Like last time, our conversation is making me feel a little stupid. Like last time, I am enjoying it immensely.

“That just shows me the buildings.”

“That's not what we're talking about?” I'm beginning to see what Nanda meant when he said she wasn't “good with words.”

“I just want to know how the places make them feel.” She blinks for the first time since we made eye contact, and I am allowed to breathe.

“So ask.”

“This is easier. When people speak, they lie.”

It looks like I need to give her more credit. She may look vacant half the time, but she's definitely been doing plenty of observing. “Can you blame them?”

“I don't think I know how,” she whispers.

“To blame them?”

“To lie.” She blinks again and pulls herself forward so we are almost nose-to-nose. I swallow nervously and say the first thing that comes to mind.

“I could teach you. It gets easy with practice.” I sound like an asshole.

“That is what worries me.” She sits up fluidly and gives me a sudden smile, eyes, teeth, and all. For a brief moment she is a complete person, and I am worried by how much her personality appeals to me. I don't have the time to be smitten by someone this broken.

“Show me the campus. Give me a tour. Talk to me.”

It is my turn to sit up. “Why?”

She lifts a hand lazily and presses her index finger gently to my forehead. “I want to see if I know when you lie.”

Oh, hell. Caroline is never going to let me live this down. I check my wristband. Thirty minutes left of my supposed class time, over an hour until Nanda gets back.

“Alright, Asha. I'll show you the sights, but you have to do something for me in return.”

She leans in uncomfortably close again, and I wonder if she doesn't understand personal boundaries, or if they are smaller on her home planet. I'll have to ask Desmond, since I know he spent a good chunk of time planetside. And, unlike Caroline, he'll be too polite to tease me for being so curious about it.

“Do what?”

I reach for her braid. “Let me see your hair undone.”

Her eyes widen and she leans back slightly. “No!”

Another mistake on my part. I keep my voice nonchalant. “Okay, fine. When we're done, let's get tea at the cafeteria, and tell me how you got the scar.”

She gazes at me for a few moments before answering. “Agreed. That I will do.”

“Well, then, let's go.” I grab my pack in my left hand and start down the path. She leaps up and moves to stand on my right side. As we leave the trees, I feel her fingers slide gently against the palm of my right hand. I tighten my grip obligingly, telling myself she's only doing it to stay focused in a crowd, which I know from experience is true, but my heart is pounding anyway.

I won't be passing this bit along to Caroline, either.