ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ ꜱɪᴅᴇ

l i n h

I don't know what I was thinking.

Which is exactly it—I wasn't. But I couldn't help myself. How could I have just left that girl burning? There was no way I could've turned away.

Now, I faced the three Coaches with Tam standing only a few paces away, refusing to part with me any more than he had to. My breaths were coming fast and short. I knew I could get ejected, and I knew it would affect me forever—not that I had anything to lose, not after how our parents treated us. But what would happen to Tam? I'd made my brother suffer enough already.

The red Coach spoke first, her raspy voice echoing through my ears. "Wayward," she addressed me. "You have broken multiple rules of Exillium."

"Put many Waywards in danger," the purple Coach added.

"Interfered with the new Wayward's Dividing," the blue Coach put in.

I lowered my head, waiting for the declaration that I'd be getting ejected. Removed from Exillium. I couldn't believe that was even a thing. Wasn't Exillium the lowest you could go?

"However."

The word, spoken by the red Coach, cut sharply through the air. My head snapped up.

"However," she repeated. "Because you extinguished the fire, and therefore prevented further damage to Exillium's campus—as well as to the new Wayward . . . "

My heart pounded. I held my breath, feeling Tam watching us closely.

" . . . we have decided you will not be getting ejected."

My breath left me in a whoosh, and my knees felt wobbly with relief. I was staying. I nearly burst out laughing, hardly able to believe I was happy about this—but I was. I'd be able to stay with my twin.

I looked back at Tam, and though his face was concealed by the hood of the Exillium uniform, I knew him well enough to guess that his expression was unreadable.

"You're dismissed," the blue Coach told me. "But remember, Hydrokinetic: don't think this means you can get away with anything else."

"I won't," I promised. "I'm really, truly sorry for all the trouble." Then I turned and quickly rushed to Tam's side before the Coaches could change their minds.

"I'm not getting ejected!" I gasped breathlessly as we went over to the purple Ambi tent.

"I heard," he answered in a dry voice. "Very impressive, managing to stay in the school of the worthless."

I ignored his sarcasm; I'd gotten used to it by now. Anyone who was close to Tam—which, I supposed, was now only me—knew he was saltier than the ocean that had caused my title as the Girl of Many Floods. The ocean that had caused me to be at the Exillium campus in the first place.

Swallowing, I shoved my thoughts away. "She's the girl, right?" I asked as we sat on the ground, subtly gesturing to a hunched figure alone in the corner. It had been too much of a blur when I'd saved her for me to remember what she looked like, but I did remember the crazy amount of ability pins that were attached to her uniform.

"Yeah," Tam replied, watching her with what I knew was a calculating gaze.

"I hope she's okay," I said under my breath, looking at her worriedly. I knew the Coaches had switched today's skill to appetite suppression, and added to her burns—and the dislike I knew was radiating towards her from all the other Waywards—I was concerned for her condition.

I'd been in Exillium for so long, my necklace heavy with countless beads, that I was able to battle back my hunger. After a while, though, it still managed to catch up with me, and my stomach began to growl.

After a few more minutes, Tam's shadow crept over mine. "How're you doing?" he shadow-whispered, since we weren't allowed to talk.

"Fine," I whispered as softly as I could.

I could hear the sarcastic Uh-huh he wasn't saying as he pulled his shadow back.

The minutes stretched on until my hunger was nearly palpable. I gritted my teeth, telling myself to ignore it, but it wasn't long before I began to sway.

Tam moved closer and gently helped me put my head between my knees, and I tried to catch my breath, fighting to ignore the pain in my stomach. Now, though, the pain wasn't just from my hunger; it was the sharp prick of guilt.

Guilt, because I knew Tam was just as hungry, and yet I wasn't helping him like he was helping me.

It wasn't fair, and yet he wasn't saying anything. He never did.

I closed my eyes. Why was it always me, the weak one? I was the fragile baby bird. Tam was the fierce, stalking tiger, the one I could never keep up with.

My fragile baby bird wings just couldn't handle it.