The Institute

by Kayla Howarth

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  It’s been twenty-eight days since we started training. I know this because I started counting days by marking off a page in one of my training notebooks. Well, I think it’s twenty-eight anyway; the monotony of doing the same thing all the time makes me forget whether I’ve actually marked it off or not. I’m sure there’s been days where I’ve doubled up and days I’ve skipped completely.

  I’m getting ready for class when Chad lets himself in. Ever since he saw me in a towel, we’re fairly comfortable with each other. Well, that, and I make sure I get out of bed and dressed in the bathroom before he’s due to get here.

  “So how has Shilah been doing?” I ask, like I do every day.

  He sits down at the dining table and helps himself to my breakfast, like he does every day. I have to ask Chad because he’s in Shilah’s ability class, and Shilah refuses to talk to me about it.

  “Still the same as the last time you asked me,” Chad responds with slight annoyance in his voice.

  “Okay, okay, I’ll try and stop asking about him.”

  I guess I may be getting a bit obsessive over Shilah’s progress. I just miss him. We’re both as stubborn as each other, and can’t agree to disagree, so every time I see him, we end up arguing. He’s also very big on interacting with others here. Shilah fitting in is something I’ve never seen before. In a way, I’m happy he feels he finally belongs somewhere. I kind of wish I did. Maybe that would make it easier for me to be here.

  Chad has told me that just like my ability—which is getting easier to control and stronger every day thanks to our lunchtime practices—Shilah’s ability is also growing. He’s now able to see two different futures simultaneously on his own without my ability helping him. The premonitions are getting longer, but he can still only see his future. I want to say I’m happy for him, but a growing ability means he’s more desirable to them and more likely to be moved through the training program quicker. That makes me feel uneasy, like I’m losing against Mr. Brookfield, against the Institute.

  I spend my morning classes berating myself for being a hypocrite. Aren’t I doing the exact same thing as Shilah but just complaining about it? I don’t really see how that’s any better. By the time lunchtime comes around, I’m so angry and down on myself that the last thing I want to do is practice my ability.

  “Okay, ready?” Chad asks as he grabs my fists with his hands. “Focus on me.”

  Feeling flat, I have no energy, and it’s hard to focus. The blue force field appears around our hands, and Chad leans into them, trying to push me backwards.

  “Good, now try and hold the force field there. Stop me from coming at you.”

  I focus harder on my hands and try to push him back. He moves a little, but not as much as I’d like. There’s just no determination to care enough today.

  He starts moving forward again. “Come on, Allira, think bigger. You’re better than this.” His encouragement, while appreciated, isn’t really helping.

  I start slipping, and I know I’m going to break. Trying to refocus, I shake it off and use all the strength inside of me to push him back, but I’m too distracted now. I lose my tiny bit of focus, and the moment I do, Chad loses his balance and crashes into me, sending us both onto my bed behind us.

  He’s fallen right on top of me, and our faces are so close, our noses are nearly touching. My heart’s beating so fast, but I don’t know if it’s from the exertion from trying to fight him or the fact he’s in such proximity to me.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  I swallow, hard. “I think so.”

  Chad brings his hand up to my hair and brushes a strand away from my face. I’m out of breath. This feels so intimate, so close, and so … awkward. All I can think about is Ebbodine.

  I cough. “But someone is kind of crushing me,” I say lightly as I push him off me, and we both climb to our feet.

  What just happened?

  We head back down to the training centre in complete silent awkwardness and go our separate ways to class. I can’t even look him in the eye to say bye.

  The majority of self-defence class is spent thinking about how close Chad and I came to kissing. At least, I think that’s what almost happened. What the hell was I thinking? I can’t be thinking about Chad like that, he’s Ebbodine’s.

  I know she’s not here, and in all likelihood I’ll never see her again, but a small part of me is still hoping she’s here somewhere. I want my friend back. If by chance, I was ever to see her again, and I was with Chad, wouldn’t that be like incest or something? Isn’t that an unwritten rule—don’t mess with your friend’s ex?

  I’m so distracted by Chad and Ebbodine that I get hit in the face by my sparring partner numerous times. In a weird way, it’s good for me. It brings me out of my stupor and helps me refocus. Clearing my mind, I start focusing on hitting her back. I manage to get a few good jabs in when they tell us class is over. Damn it, I was just getting warmed up.