Chapter Twenty-Seven
Monday morning Bryn stared at her blue hair in the mirror. She liked it. Should she keep it? She switched back to her dark blond with a cherry red stripe. That was more her. She met Clint and Ivy on her terrace and flew down to the dining hall with them. If Jaxon spent time knocking on her door that was just too bad. She was halfway through her French toast when the asshat-in-question stalked into the dining hall.
“Let the games begin,” Ivy muttered.
Jaxon didn’t stop at the buffet, he headed straight for her table.
“You should have let me know that I wasn’t walking you to breakfast,” he said.
“You shouldn’t expect me to be considerate of your time or feelings when you’ve acted like a jackass,” Bryn shot back.
His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t respond. Instead he went to the buffet line.
“That was entertaining,” Clint said.
On the walk to Elemental Science with Clint and Ivy, Bryn kept a watch out for Jaxon. Since their interaction at breakfast, he hadn’t even glanced in her direction. He wanted to give her the cold shoulder? Fine by her. The less interaction they had, the better.
Unfortunately, the seating chart in Mr. Stanton’s class had her sitting next to him. Thankfully, they were working on their own, writing essays, rather than interacting in a group project. When class ended, Jaxon stood and looked at her expectantly.
“What?” she said.
“I’m walking you to your next class,” he said like she should have realized that fact. “Per our normal routine.”
“That doesn’t work for me,” Bryn said. “Clint and Ivy can walk me to class.” She looked at her friends for confirmation.
“Sure we can do that,” Clint said. “Let’s go.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Jaxon said. “It’s my job to escort you to class.”
“Nope. You’ve been relieved of duty due to your piss-poor attitude.” She walked past him. Clint and Ivy followed.
They were halfway down the hall when Jaxon caught up with her. He didn’t say anything. He just walked near her with a blank expression on his face. For some reason that pissed her off more.
“Go away,” she said.
“This is one of those moments when what you want is irrelevant,” Jaxon informed her with a little too much attitude.
“You know there’s something I’ve been wanting to try.” She reached up and touched his hair. Focusing her Quintessence, she imagined his hair neon pink.
He jerked away from her, but not before he had a bright pink stripe in his hair.
Clint and Ivy laughed.
Bryn grinned. “That worked better than I thought.”
“What did you do?” Jaxon reached up and touched his hair.
Students around them laughed.
“Are they laughing at me?” Jaxon spoke through clenched teeth.
“I’m sure they’re laughing with you.” Bryn headed into class with a warm, fuzzy, satisfied feeling in her chest.
Jaxon stormed in behind her. “Fix it.”
“Bite me,” Bryn shot back.
“Bryn, that’s not the appropriate use of your medical skill,” Medic Williams said from her desk. “Jaxon, come here.” She ran her hand over Jaxon’s hair and it returned to its normal blond color. “Now go to class.”
After Jaxon left the room, Medic Williams raised an eyebrow at Bryn. “Care to explain?”
“He was being a condescending asshat.”
Janelle and some other students laughed.
Medic Williams shook her head. “As tempting as it may be to mess around with other people in that manner, it undermines our profession.”
Bryn was so not sorry.
“Okay, class. You’re going to read through some case studies with a partner. Take notes about any questions you have, and we’ll work out the answers together.”
After the folders were passed out, Janelle scooted closer to Bryn. “Was that as fun as it looked?”
“Yes. I regret nothing.” Bryn opened her file. “What are we reading?”
Janelle opened their folder. “A Medic healed a newborn baby.”
That reminded her of something. “Are dragon pregnancies fragile? I’ve heard of way too many women losing babies.”
“I think they are fragile up to a certain point.” Janelle leaned in and spoke in a quiet tone. “It also depends on how much inbreeding has happened within the Clan. Blues tend to miscarry more often because they tend to only marry within certain families.”
“Really?”
Janelle nodded. “There are more Reds than any other Clan. Black and Green dragons are the next largest Clans. Blues are the smallest, outside of the Orange Clan, of course.”
How did I not know this? “I never heard anyone say that before.”
“You know us Greens. We like to measure things and track data. The Reds have more children per family. Black and Green dragons tend to stop at two kids. Blues may have more than one child but they space them out so they are practically a generation apart.”
“Like Jaxon and Asher.”
“Exactly,” Janelle said. “Which is also why most Blue siblings aren’t close. They don’t grow up together. One is an adult before the other one starts elementary school.”
“That’s so weird.”
“It keeps the balance of power for the older sibling as the heir, while allowing for the safety net of having another child to inherit, if something happens to the first one.”
In Basic Movement, Bryn kept an eye out for Jaxon. She had no idea what type of repercussions she was in for.
“That was brilliant,” Clint said as they walked on the treadmills.
“I enjoyed it.”
“Too bad Medic Williams changed it back so quickly,” said Ivy.
After they finished warming up, Bryn felt antsy. “I’m going to beat the crap out of a Slam Man.” She jogged across the room to the Slam Man section where Keegan, one of the few dragons who’d been nice to her when she first came to school, and some other Reds were punching and kicking the man-shaped punching bags.
Keegan smiled at her. “Let me guess. You want to hit a certain someone, so you’re going to punch the Slam Man instead.”
“You might be right,” Bryn said.
“Yeah, I heard he was a jerk. Did you really turn his hair pink?”
“Maybe.”
Keegan gestured toward the Slam Man he’d been wailing on. “He’s all yours.”
Bryn took a few practice punches until she fell into a rhythm of jabs and uppercuts like her father had taught her. After a few minutes, she developed a mantra to go along with it. Jaxon was a jerk. Punch. Punch. Kick. He’d deserved what she’d done. Punch. Punch. Kick. Waiting for payback was going to suck. Punch. Punch. Kick. She stopped for a breather and to wipe the sweat out of her eyes.
If she really did go through with the marriage-contract-from-hell, she’d make sure there was a Slam Man available in their estate. That way when she wanted to punch Jaxon, she’d go take it out on the Slam Man instead. Maybe she should have several Slam Mans. One per floor or one per wing.
Clint and Ivy walked Bryn to the rest of her classes. Jaxon hovered nearby with a you’re-dead-to-me look on his face. By dinner that night, Bryn was working on her I-don’t-give-a-crap attitude but finding it hard to achieve.
“I’m trying to be Zen,” Bryn said. “And not worry about what he might be plotting as revenge, but every time I see him my irritation goes up another notch.”
“Maybe you should have it out with him,” Ivy said.
“If I thought it would do any good, I would.” Bryn slammed her fork down. “I know he’ll counter any question or complaint I have with some holier-than-thou Blue Clan logic that will irritate the living hell out of me. And then I won’t just color his hair, I’ll set it on fire. Any advice?”
“Ignore him and hope he goes away?” Clint said.
“I’ve tried that,” Bryn said. “Didn’t work.”
“Then either you talk to him or you don’t,” Clint said.
“And remember we’re always available to help you dispose of a body,” Ivy said.
After dinner, Bryn started on her homework. She’d just finished her last assignment when her phone rang.
There was a 50 percent chance it was either her grandmother or Jaxon. Steeling herself she answered the phone.
“We need to talk,” Jaxon said.
Fire surged in Bryn’s gut. “I suggest you rephrase that as a question rather than a command.”
“Fine. Can we talk?”
She desperately wanted to say no, but the joy from shutting him down wouldn’t last long, and they did need to straighten a few things out. “I’m done with my homework if you want to come over now.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
Bryn loaded up her book bag for the next day and waited for Jaxon to knock on the door. How mad and hateful was he going to be? She took a few deep, cleansing breaths. No matter what he said, she wouldn’t show any emotion. If she was going to be in a relationship with a Blue, she’d have to start acting like one. For no other reason than self preservation. Maybe she’d start making voodoo dolls to take her frustration out on.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Okay. I can do this. She crossed the room and opened the door. Jaxon stood there, holding a book and a container with two cups of milk and half a dozen cookies. He came in and set the container on the coffee table before taking a seat in one of the winged-back chairs.
She sat across the coffee table from him on the couch. “What’s with the cookies?”
“A prop to make people believe that everything is fine.” His tone was cold and calculated.
“So when you murder me for turning your hair pink it won’t look premeditated?”
“Something like that.”
“I’m not apologizing,” Bryn said. “So if that’s what you’re here for you might as well leave.”
He gave her the silent treatment.
Fine. If he wasn’t going to talk, she would. “We had fun flying together during the first snow, and then you said something to make me mad on purpose, in front of the entire campus. Why?”
“I resented you for being who you are.”
“That clears everything up.” She reached for a cookie.
“I resented you because you weren’t Rhianna.”
How in the hell was she supposed to respond to that? Rather than trying, she grabbed one of the cups of milk, removed the carryout lid, broke the cookie in half, and dunked it in the milk before taking a bite. She finished two cookies while she waited for Jaxon to say something else. He ate a cookie as if he was waiting for her to say something. Finally, she caved.
“I’ll never be Rhianna. I’m not trying to replace her, but we are stuck together, so I don’t understand why we can’t make the best of it.”
“After I had fun with you it felt like I’d been disloyal to her,” Jaxon said.
“Okay. I have several responses to that. All or most of them will tick you off. So listen before you yell at me. First off, you should probably see a grief counselor to help you deal with losing someone you loved. Second, according to the contract we signed, your loyalty is supposed to be to me now. Rhianna is gone and she’s not coming back. Third, there is only so much crap I am willing to put up with and there are only so many times you can be a jerk before I write you off as a lost cause. Not to mention, I am training to become a Medic. I could probably poison you and make it look like an accident—so you really need to stop pissing me off.”
“I’ll do my best, but you can’t pull a prank on me in public. Ever. Again.”
There were so many smart-ass remarks she could make, but she refrained. “I can agree to that.”
“Good. I’ll acknowledge that you’re on Team Westgate. We can work toward being friends.” And then he stood and exited her dorm room, leaving the milk and cookies on the table.
Bryn slid down on the couch. She should feel better, but she didn’t. Team Westgate sucked.