Ink & Quill

Chapter 10

~ Sylas ~

The last thing I want to do is lie and keep secrets from Jaxon. And yet, by the time we're back home in Covey Bend that evening, finishing off a dinner of Chinese takeout we'd picked up on the way, I still haven't figured a way out of doing just that.

If I tell Jaxon everything, Edwards and his weird little machines will know. Even if he didn't find out, there's no way Jaxon would let me meet the guy alone—much less with Aurelio.

So, even while knowing it's the wrong thing to do, I keep quiet, and let this new secret rest like a stone at the bottom of my heart.

"Not hungry?" Jaxon asks, eyeing my uneaten dumplings.

I push my plate towards him. "I had a late lunch."

He eyes me suspiciously, but in this case I'm telling the truth.

"So, you learn anything?" he asks, transferring a dumpling to his mouth with his bamboo chopsticks.

We hadn't spoken much on the drive home. Jaxon had picked me up at a coffee shop a few blocks from campus where we'd agreed to meet, and while less tense than when we'd parted that morning, it was clear he was in a bad mood. It was only lifting now, as he packed himself full of dumplings, broccoli beef, sesame chicken, and shrimp fried rice.

"Not much," I say, answering his question as vaguely as I can. "The professors mostly talked about assignments and due dates and stuff."

"Mm." He pushes some rejected broccoli stems around his plate.

"What about you?" I ask. "Did you, um, have a good day?"

He flexes a shoulder in the semblance of a shrug and gives me a half-twist of a smile. "Eh. Learned I hate my job. Only thing else I learned is the place is full of entitled snobs. You wanna be invisible? Try working in a place where everyone automatically assumes they're better and smarter than you because of what you do."

"Sounds like you have a chip on your shoulder," I say carefully.

He sighs and stabs the last dumpling. "Guess that's what comes of being the only brother out of three who didn't go to a fancy school. You fit in well, though."

Considering what he just said, I'm not sure this is a compliment.

"I mean being a student," he clarifies, maybe seeing the doubt on my face. "It suits you."

"Oh." I shrug. Actually, he's not wrong. Everything else aside, I did enjoy it—the ritual of arriving in a classroom and sitting at a desk, and listening and taking notes, and having books to read and papers to write. "I guess so. Maybe once this is all over, I'll apply for real."

"You should," Jaxon says with a firmness that surprises me. "You deserve the chance to go after your dreams."

"So do you," I remind him, showing him I mean it with a smile.

He reaches across our little table and takes my hand. "No more running, no more hiding, no more Spellwright bullshit, and a life with you is dream enough for me."

"You sap," I laugh, even as guilt kicks me in the gut. "You're too good for me."

I'm not even lying.

"That's my line," he says, and holds my gaze long enough to make my heart beat a little faster. Then he winks and breaks the tension, and gets up to clear away the remains of our meal.

To distract myself from the uncomfortable feeling in my chest, I unwrap a fortune cookie and crack it open, pulling out the little slip of paper inside.