“Jaxon may be more evolved than men of past generations, but his actions today prove he isn’t too far removed from them. You can expect his dismissive behavior to continue and you can let it annoy you or you can learn not to be bothered by it. I suggest the latter. Your life may be intertwined with his, but it is still your own. Develop your friendships and your hobbies because you will need both later in life.”
That was not the answer she’d been hoping for. “I don’t understand why he runs hot and cold. He acts like he’s my friend and then once he’s met his goal, he bails. It’s weird. That’s not how you’re supposed to treat your friends.”
“I’m not sure Westgates have friends,” her grandmother said. “Ferrin has allies and enemies. That’s about it.”
“But Jaxon has friends he hangs out with,” Bryn said. He’d just taken off with Quentin.
“I hope he does, but I’m not sure you should count on being one of them.”
“This conversation is starting to suck,” Bryn complained.
“I’ll always tell you the truth, even if it’s not something you want to hear,” her grandmother said.
…
Bryn strolled around campus after breakfast Saturday morning with Clint and Ivy. “Both of you guys are feeling better now?”
Clint nodded.
Ivy said, “We’re back to normal. I have no idea what that was about. At least it went away quickly.”
“And hopefully, it won’t come back,” Clint said.
Bryn stretched, enjoying the warmth of the sunshine and the early morning breeze. “It feels so good to be outside.”
“Agreed,” Clint said. “It’s not like I’m claustrophobic but the walls of my dorm room felt like they were closing in on me.”
“I know what you mean,” Bryn said. “And I only had Jaxon for company which was kind of depressing. Which reminds me, I want your opinion on something.” She told them about Jaxon’s dismissive behavior. “Am I just being a drama queen?”
“Not necessarily,” Ivy said. “He does change moods on a regular basis.”
“Here’s my question,” Clint said. “Why do you expect him to act any different than he always has?”
“Because of the way he acts like we’re a team when we’re in public,” Bryn said. “I don’t understand how it can totally be an act. Instead of acting like he’s my friend, why not just be my friend? It’s not that hard.”
“As long as you’re fed and caffeinated on a regular basis, you’re pretty easy to get along with,” Clint said.
“I know. So why does he flip back and forth like this?”
“Ask him,” Ivy said. “You can guess all you want, but he’s the only one who has the answer.”
“True, but what are the odds his answer won’t make me want to blast him to a cinder?”
“Given his history, zero to none,” Clint said. “He is who he is. An elitist asshat with occasional moments of niceness.”
Bryn sat on a bench under one of the new trees in the recently restored green areas. “Every time I think I have a handle on my life, someone switches up the cast or changes the rules.”
“Look at it this way,” Ivy said. “The cast for your future is pretty well set. Maybe not with the people you expected or necessarily wanted, but at least they shouldn’t be changing.”
“True.” Maybe she just needed to sit down with Jaxon and hash this out. If he said he wasn’t interested in a real friendship then she could move on…or flash fry him, depending on his level of rudeness.
“So have you heard anything about dragon-pires?” Clint asked.
“No, but I do know the powers-that-be are upping security again just in case someone evil really is running around campus.”
“Great,” Clint said. “So we have to assume that someone is watching us all the time?”
“Watching or listening,” Bryn said. “And that used to annoy me, but now I kind of understand.”
“It was only a matter of time,” Clint stage whispered to Ivy. “Bryn has turned into the establishment.”
“That is a scary thought,” Bryn said. And it might not be far from the truth, which was truly frightening.
That night, Bryn called Jaxon’s room. He answered on the third ring.
“Do you have time to stop by for a few minutes?” she asked. “I want to talk to you about something.”
“How long will it take? I’m meeting friends in fifteen minutes.”
That probably wasn’t enough time. “Never mind. Call me when you have half an hour to spare.”
“What’s this about?” he asked.
“It’s nothing life endangering,” she said. “Go out. Call me tomorrow some time.”
“Okay.” And he hung up.
Maybe calling him had been a mistake. Asking him if he could be her real friend sounded sort of desperate and ridiculous. His actions would prove more than his words. She should just forget about having any touchy-feely moments with him and move on with her life.
Chapter Eighteen
Bryn stared into her armoire, trying to find a balance between the person she was now and the person she was before she’d come to the Institute for Excellence. Her grandmother loved shopping and had succeeded in replacing most of Bryn’s casual clothes with nicer high-end clothing. Not that Bryn minded. Her grandmother had been very generous, but sometimes the clothes made her feel like an imposter.
She grabbed her favorite jeans. Should she wear them? Would her mom wear jeans to a lunch this important? Then again, who knew what her mother had to wear. It’s not like she could have brought much with her when she’d been running for her life.
Should she call her mom and ask if she needed to borrow something? Why hadn’t she thought of this sooner? Nothing to be done about it now. She checked the alarm clock on her dresser. Her grandmother would arrive to pick her up in twenty minutes. Time to stop worrying about things beyond her control. She picked a simple navy dress and boots. That should appease her grandmother and not look too uppity to her mom.
How would her mom be traveling to Suzette’s? That was another question Bryn hadn’t thought to ask. The students who traveled from Sanctuary came by SUV, so hopefully transportation would be provided. Why was she focusing on these things? Probably because she was worried about how her mom and grandmother would deal with being in the same room after all this time.
Half an hour later, Bryn was hugging her mom in the nice back room of the restaurant while her grandmother acknowledged Sara with a nod.
“Mother,” Sara said. “It’s nice to see you.”
Marie Sinclair gave a tight smile. “Nice to see you, too, Sara.”
The waitress delivered a round of ice water and left them to read the menu. From behind the piece of laminated plastic, Bryn said, “I don’t suppose there’s a way to skip over the awkward part and just be happy that we’re taking a step in the right direction?”
Her mom and her grandmother both snorted in the exact same manner. Bryn laughed. “That must be genetic.”
“Perhaps,” her grandmother said.
Sara set her menu down. “I want to thank you for all you’ve done for Bryn. I know it couldn’t have been easy when you first met.”
“We had a bumpy start,” Marie Sinclair said, “but eventually we found our footing.”
“I’ve corrupted her a bit,” Bryn whispered in a conspiratorial tone. “She says things like ‘That sucks’ now.”
Sara laughed. “I can’t imagine those words coming out of your mouth.”
“We’ve all changed,” Marie said. “And no matter how at odds you and I may be, I commend you on raising such a strong-willed, loyal daughter.”
“She is pretty great,” Sara said.
Their food arrived. As they ate and made small talk, Bryn ignored the other patrons of the restaurant who seemed to be watching and waiting to see what would happen.
“Should I just stand up and announce that there isn’t going to be a battle so everyone can go back to minding their own business?” Bryn asked.
“No,” her mother and grandmother said in tandem. Again they sounded exactly the same, which made Bryn laugh. “I never noticed the similarities in your mannerisms and some of the things you say,” Bryn said.
“How are things out at Sanctuary?” Marie asked.
“We’re comfortable,” Sara said. “And everyone there seems to be genuinely happy that they no longer have to hide who they are.”