…
Bryn was one hundred pages into her book when someone knocked on her door. She’d just seen Clint and Ivy at dinner, so who did that leave? Wait, she knew the answer. She slid a bookmark between the pages and went to see what Jaxon wanted.
She opened the door and sure enough, the blight of her life stood there with a sour expression on his face…and he’d gripe if she tried to talk to him in the hallway. “Come on in.”
He entered and went to lean against the library table. “We need to talk.”
“Here I thought maybe you dropped by to play charades.”
“I’m not going to dignify that poor attempt at humor with a response.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “We should start eating our meals together in the dining hall.”
“Hell no.” She was not giving up her friends.
“I’m just as thrilled about it as you are, but people are talking about us not spending enough time together.”
“What people? And since when does a Westgate care what other people think?”
He opened his mouth to speak and then paused. “Good point, but for the sake of appearances, we should eat together a few times a week.”
This was not a conversation she wanted to have standing up. She walked over and flopped down on the couch, putting her feet up on the coffee table. “Fine. Let’s negotiate. You don’t want to eat at my table and I don’t want to eat at yours, so we should share the awkwardness on some sort of schedule.”
Jaxon came to sit in one of the winged-back chairs and pointed at her feet. “A table is not a footstool.”
“This one is,” Bryn said. “Back to the irritating topic at hand. I’ll join you for dinner on Tuesdays and you’ll join me for dinner on Thursdays.”
“Fine. We should probably eat lunch together, too.”
Nope. “Lunch is for scarfing down food before going to your next class. Let’s stick with dinner. It’s more date-like.”
“I guess you’re right. We’ll start with dinner two nights a week and see if that takes care of the issue. We still need to discuss weekends.”
She was going to regret asking this question. “What about the weekends?”
“Your grandmother and my mother spent all summer throwing us together. Did you think they’d stop just because school started?”
“Son of a bitch.” Bryn slid lower on the couch.
“Agreed. Apparently, they are bringing events to campus rather than dragging us off to other peoples’ estates. My mother claims it’s about helping to unify the student body and making them feel welcome.”
“Good to know other people will be sharing the fun.” On a positive note, at least with students from all Clans and multiple versions of hybrids, she wouldn’t stick out like she normally did at Blue events.
“So…this weekend we’re having a Homecoming Gala where we’re supposed to mingle and be seen.”
“Can we do that in jeans, because the dress code isn’t in force on the weekends?” Girls were required to wear skirts and blouses and archaic panty hose to class everyday and she relished her evening and weekend yoga pants and jeans time.
“I’m sure you know the answer to that question.”
“You’re just the bearer of all sorts of good news,” she said.
“Just sharing the joy that is our inexplicably intertwined lives.” He stared down at his hands. “I understand now why they test bloodlines. There are certain traits you definitely don’t want brought to light. I’d like to see how they determine which bloodlines are compatible. You’d think there would be more than just a few good matches for every dragon.”
“I don’t understand why Mr. Stanton and Miss Enid were denied without a reason.”
Jaxon’s brow wrinkled in confusion before he seemed to understand. “They were denied, and they didn’t accept the Directorate’s alternative partners, which is why they never married.”
“Exactly. They’ve been seeing each other all this time. And honestly, since they’re past the age of having children, what would the harm be in allowing them to marry?”
“As far as I know, something of that nature has never been discussed,” Jaxon said. “Dragons who chose not to marry have always stayed single, but if they are no longer at risk of producing dangerous offspring, they should be allowed to marry.”
“I know it’s not really the Student Directorate’s place to advocate for teachers, but we could say that some students asked,” Bryn said. “Because we’re students and we wondered.”
“Bothering my father with anything other than a life or death situation right now is not advisable. He’s barely home and when he is, he isn’t in a social mood.”
Poor Lillith. “I could ask my grandmother if she thinks we should ask the Directorate about this. My grandfather seems like his normal self, but I have no idea what he’s dealing with right now.”
Jaxon stood. “Let me know what she says.”
“Okay.” Bryn followed him to the door and locked it after he left. While she wasn’t looking forward to eating several meals a week with him, it was nice to have someone to talk to about these Directorate issues. Did he feel the same way?
Chapter Seven
The next morning at breakfast, Bryn shared the joyous news about Jaxon joining them for dinner one day a week.
“So you have to eat dinner with him tonight?” Ivy said.
Bryn nodded.
“Everyone knows your marriage contract was approved, so why do you have to be seen digesting food together?” Clint asked.
“I don’t know…something about presenting a united front or showing everyone that our family alliance is strong or some weird Blue Clan crap like that.” Bryn sipped her coffee. “Did I mention that there’s going to be a Homecoming Gala this weekend? Posters will probably go up later today and it’s my job to mingle and be seen with Jaxon.”
“It’s almost funny,” Clint said.
“Almost,” Bryn said, “but not quite. The good news is there will be food. The bad news is, it’s dress code compliant.”
“But it’s the weekend,” Clint said.
“I had the exact same reaction,” Bryn said.
“How’s your Medic class going?” Ivy asked.
“Interesting. I met a Green named Janelle. She’s pretty cool. How’s history class, part two?”
“They haven’t found a replacement teacher yet, so we’re reading historical articles,” Clint said. “Mine was about a secret society of Silver dragons who possessed all the breath weapons. They took dragons as prisoners and siphoned their Quintessence.”
“That’s downright evil,” Bryn said.
“True,” Clint said. “It reads like a horror story. Hard to believe it was real.”
“Why would someone need to do that in the first place?” Bryn asked. “If you’re tired, you rest or eat…you don’t go all Quintessence Vampire on someone.”
“Some people just don’t play well with others,” Ivy said. “They want all the toys for themselves and they don’t care who they hurt.”
Bryn had a mental image of Ferrin hoarding toys and refusing to let anyone else play with him. “Sounds like someone I know.”
“Does his name rhyme with Darren?” Clint asked like he was trying to solve a puzzle.
“How’d you guess?” Bryn asked.
“I’m brilliant like that,” Clint said.
As the weekend approached, Bryn waited for word that her parents would be allowed to visit, or that she’d be allowed to visit them in Sanctuary. She received no such message.
At dinner Thursday night she griped to Clint, Ivy, and Jaxon, who sat at their table looking like he’d rather be eating behind a dumpster.
“I don’t understand,” Bryn said. “I thought the powers-that-be would have all that crap straightened out by now.”
“The Directorate has been convening day and night for months,” Jaxon said. “And they probably prioritize everyone’s safety above your concerns.”