The Institute
Page 41
***
By the time I get up to my room, Chad’s sitting on the floor in the hallway with his back against my door.
“You got lost, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question. He smirks at me.
“Shut up,” I say and he laughs at me.
We enter the room and sit at the table to eat the sandwiches Chad got us. At least I’m starting to feel more comfortable around Chad. So comfortable in fact, I summon the courage to talk about Eminent Falls and Ebbodine again, but I think I may ease him into talking about her, seeing as he reacted so badly the last time I mentioned her.
“So, does your dad know about you?” I ask.
“My dad?”
“I ran into him just after you and Ebb disappeared.”
“Oh.” He looks down at his food.
“He thought you had run off with Ebbodine.” I laugh like it’s a joke, but I look to see his reaction when I mention her.
He takes a sip of his water nervously. “That’s just probably wishful thinking on his part,” he says. “He knows what I can do. I think he’d rather have me run off with a student than be living here.”
Well, he didn’t deny they were together, but it’s the second time I’ve mentioned her around him, and he’s tensed up both times.
“Oh right, I keep forgetting you were actually teaching at school. Why didn’t you tell him you were turning yourself in?” I ask.
“I knew he’d talk me out of it. It was kind of a spur of the moment decision to come here.”
“That’s a pretty big decision to make on a whim,” I reply. He shrugs, and I can tell he doesn’t really want to talk about it so I try to change the subject. “So are you going to go see Tate tonight?” I ask while taking a bite out of my sandwich.
“Probably, you?”
“Maybe. We didn’t get a real chance to talk last night, Shilah kept getting confused.”
“Yeah, well that tends to happen when you only have half a conversation aloud. It drove me nuts as a child when I’d go visit him and his mum.”
“Oh, sorry. It’s difficult because I don’t even know that I’m doing it half of the time.”
“I know,” he says.
“I keep forgetting you two grew up together, you’re quite different.”
“How so?”
“I don’t know. You seem more like friends than family. He’s pretty laid-back and easy-going, and …” I pause while I try to think of a nice way to call Chad uptight and angry.
“I’m not?” he asks in the serious tone he had the first few times I ever spoke to him.
I change the subject again. “Hey, I have a question. How are you so good at hiding your thoughts? I know I barely heard anything from you while we were down there with Tate. It would be really handy for me to learn that. Tate can hear every little thing I’m thinking. It’s annoying.”
“Now you know why I practice so hard at keeping my thoughts to myself. It’s hard to explain, and it took me a while to master it, but I guess it’s like I kind of see my thoughts as a two-way radio. You’ve seen those devices the agents use here, right?”
I nod.
“To hear what someone’s saying, you have to be on the same channel or frequency, so I focus on Tate, and I focus on what I want him to hear, but run my actual thoughts on another channel in my head. Does that make any sense?”
“I guess so … no, not really.”
We finish our lunch and get started on training.
“How about you show me some of that self-defence you learnt yesterday? It might make it more of a challenge if you actually have a shot of hitting me. If you can catch me off guard, that is.” He’s smiling at me, just daring me to accept his challenge.
Stepping forward, I aim for his stomach. My fist makes the blue force field appear immediately on impact. He was ready for it.
They showed us really basic manoeuvres yesterday in class. I try to remember them as I incorporate it into my punching.
Smiling, I go for his stomach again with my right hand, while preparing to punch his face with my left.
He’s ready for that too. He steps out of my way, and I almost trip from completely missing him with my fist. He laughs, and my frustration builds.
“I’ve only had one class,” I complain.
“Yeah, and by the look of it, they can’t even show you how to punch properly.” Chad grabs my hand, rearranging my fingers so my thumb is on the outside of my fist instead of inside. “Now you won’t break your thumb if you ever actually manage to hit me,” he says, smirking.
“To be honest, I don’t think they know much of what they’re teaching down there. I spent most of yesterday’s class just trying not to get hit by a fifteen-year-old.”
“I can show you properly if you like?” Chad offers.
“You can?”
“Dad taught me everything he knows.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Really? Mr. Williams knows how to fight?”
“Yeah. He thought it’d be a good idea for me to learn how to protect myself without using my ability and exposing myself.”
Chad shows me an old form of self-defence called Krav Maga. It’s brutal, but it makes me feel strong by using Chad’s body weight against him.
The good thing about using Chad’s ability when we train is we can hit each other as hard as possible and it won’t hurt. In self-defence class yesterday, I was too worried to hit my sparring partner in fear of breaking her. She, however, didn't seem to care either way. I have a bruise on my left side that proves that.
Krav Maga is aggressive. I still laugh when I think of Mr. Williams ever being able to do this.
Looking at the clock, I realise we’re late for class. “Oh crap, we have to go.”
We quickly head out of the door into the hallway when I realise just how messy we look. My hair is dishevelled and my face feels hot. I assume it’s bright red from the effort I was putting in. Both of us are sweaty.
As we’re adjusting our clothes, and I’m trying to flatten my hair, Drew comes around the corner. He’s finished teaching for the day, I’m guessing.
His look says it all. He’s hurt. I guess it does look pretty bad. I suddenly feel guilty, and I don’t know why. This is good for him. Maybe this will help him move on and leave me alone. We don’t exchange words. Drew goes into his apartment, and Chad and I head to class.
Chad’s trying to hold in his laughter. “Well, that was just a bit awkward.”