The Gray Institute (The Gray Institute Trilogy Book 1)

by Leanne Pearson

  How could I be so stupid? How could I allow my mouth to run away with me like that? How could I lose control of my head?

  How will I explain to Tia the reason for our punishment?

  Oh, sorry Tia, I can't seem to keep a hold on myself around Malachy Beighley, that's why I risked your life and mine for the sake of one stupid, idiotic, needless question.

  What do I care if Malachy is helping me because I look like Aleks Anzhela? What difference does it make to me? I needed his help, he was providing me with it, why did I feel the need to compromise that?

  'Fuck!' My anger at myself, at my moronic outburst, bubbles over and I lash out at the closest thing to me with my fist. The wall shatters before my eyes, plaster and paint flaking and billowing in a cloud around my head. A clean hole through the plasterboard, a jagged indent in the orange brick, my knuckles pristine aside from a little dust.

  I stand to witness my vandalism, wondering how I'll explain the giant crater in the wall on the fourth floor corridor. The sound of my bone hitting the stone was loud, someone close by will have heard it. I scarper as fast as my legs will carry me. I'm a blur along the hall and only visible as I momentarily wait for the lift.

  I don't know where I'm going until I get there; the music pounding from the Black Room is audible from two floors above and I scurry through the halls, following the noise. The doors are open, the hall even more crowded than when I left fifteen minutes ago. I scan the room for Tia's familiar face and spot it by the back wall, surrounded by Richard, Meredith and the Bermudez sisters, not to mention half of the third years.

  I pray that her eyes will miraculously meet mine but she's engrossed in a conversation with Meredith, her lips moving fast. Her face is smiling and unconcerned, which makes the news I have to break to her all the more hard to spill.

  I make a beeline for her, ignoring shouts of my name from passers by. She spots me as I near her and her face drops. She breaks away from Richard, from Meredith, and grips my arm, her amber eyes staring intensely into mine.

  'What is it?' She asks, her breathing ragged.

  'I have to speak to you.' I manage to force the words out and she nods, letting me lead her back through the crowd towards the entrance. Richard shouts her name and she holds a hand up to him as I drag her away.

  'Give me a minute, Richard.' She calls back, closing the doors behind us as we step out into the cool corridor. We move away from the Black Room, towards the window at the end of the hall and she turns, gripping my wrists, almost pinning me to the wall.

  'What's happened?' She demands, her face full of concern, her eyes worried. Worried for me.

  'I – ' I stammer, wondering how exactly to word the news that we are both utterly screwed. 'I fucked up.'

  'Fucked up?' Tia raises an eyebrow.

  'I don't know how it happened, exactly...' I stall for time, beating around the bush.

  'How what happened?' She drops her hands, her posture suddenly turning a little aggressive.

  'Malachy... we were at the window, he was helping me...' My sentences won't string together to make sense. I try to back away from Tia's newly menacing expression but find my back pressed against the wall.

  'What happened?' Her voice changes, a tone I've never heard her use before; a low, intimidating growl. The sound is in complete disproportion to her face and I almost have to glance around to make sure it was really her.

  'I – I let slip...' The words are barely out of my mouth before Tia screams, slamming the palm of her hand on the wall beside my head. Her face twists and contorts into an expression of rage and I feel my stomach twist into knots.

  'Your next words better not be 'about Aleks',' She warns. My silence coupled with my shrinking posture tells her all she needs to know. 'Are you serious?!' Her voice is a high pitched shriek and I try to hush her.

  'Tia, keep it down, people will hear – '

  'Don't tell me to keep it down!' She slams her palm against the wall again, even closer to my head.

  'Okay, okay.' I attempt to calm her but she's beyond help.

  'Don't tell me to keep it down!' She repeats, even louder than the first time and I shout just to be heard.

  'Okay!'

  'How could you be so fucking stupid, Eve?' She growls. I flinch – Tia never swears. I hear Richard's footsteps as he closes the Black Room doors, heading in our direction.

  'What the hell's going on?' His Scottish accent sounds harsher than usual and I poke my head around Tia to address him. 'Are you two having a lover's tiff or something? The whole bloody hall heard you,' He nods to Tia, making a tense joke.

  'This is no joking matter, Richard,' Tia retorts, her rage flaring again. 'Eve has got us into a lot of shit!' She turns accusingly to me and I sigh, holding my hands up in defeat. It seems there is no reasoning with Tia and quite frankly, I can't blame her.

  'Look, I don't know what happened. One minute we were talking and the next – '

  'You lost control, like usual!' She snaps. I frown, my eyes darting back and forth between her and Richard.

  'What?'

  'Don't think I haven't noticed it,' She scoffs. 'I know you, Eve. I've seen the way you lose control around him. It's like you morph into a weird version of yourself.'

  'I do not!' I retort, feeling suddenly offended, mainly because I know Tia is right. I'm shocked that she's noticed, though, and even less willing to admit it.

  'No, you know what I'm talking about. You always react to him; the first time you met when you almost took a swing at him in the corridor, the way you tense up every time he comes into the common room, how much it irritates you when he does something arrogant,' She lists. 'But you'll have to square with that some day on your own. Right now, you need to start brainstorming a way to get me out of shit. Out of the mess that you created!'

  'Okay, I know,' I sigh. 'I'll talk to him first thing in the morning – '

  'No, you sort this now! Right now! There's over twelve hours 'til morning, that'll give him plenty of time to run to Sir Alec.'

  'We don't know he will run to Sir Alec.' I reason, deserving a snort from Tia.

  'Yeah, okay. Let's sit here and pray that he's so enamoured by you that he won't tell Sir Alec, the headmaster, that you and I broke the rules. Let's hope that after, what? Two weeks of knowing you properly? He'll cast his duties as future Auctorita aside and just let this one slide.'

  'Jesus, Tia,' I breathe, hurt by her harsh words, even though I deserve them. 'I'll talk to him, I'll go right now.'

  'You do that.' She snarls, giving me a shove in the direction of the elevator.

  'What the hell are we talking about here?' Richard is completely aghast, his brows furrowed in concentration.

  'Malachy.' Tia spits his name, as though he is the one who wronged her.

  'No, shit, did you sleep with Malachy?' Richard turns to me, his eyes wide. I stop in my tracks, blanching, and, although Tia is livid at me, she still meets my eyes with a look of disbelief.

  'How the hell did you come to that conclusion, Richard?' Tia snaps, turning to face him.

  'Well, I just... 'cos you said that she 'lost control' around him.' He makes bunny ears with his fingers and I almost smile as Tia refrains from slapping him.

  'Just... for God's sake,' Tia sighs. 'Eve, you go. And you,' she grips Richard's shoulders. 'Shut up and walk with me, I'll explain on the way.'

  'We're not going back to our party?' Richard frowns, and Tia shakes her head, casting a glance back at me.

  'No, it's been ruined.' She snipes before pulling Richard hastily along the corridor.

  'I'm sorry! Jesus!' I yell at no one in particular as I lean my head against the elevator doors, waiting for them to open. My second meeting with Malachy in just one night, except this time, there is no-one in the world I'd hate to see more.

  Chapter Twenty

  The elevator ride to the fourth floor is shorter than I'd like. The breaks judder to a halt and the unwelcome sound of the doors chime open to reveal an empty corrid
or. I force myself to step outside, but walk no further than the edge of the threshold, leaning back against the doors as they close behind me. The cool metal on the back of my head is soothing and I gaze fearfully along the hall to the end of the passage. The door on the farthest right is closed, but is the only room on this floor occupied.

  I sense Malachy's presence even from this distance and I'm relieved that he's alone. I half-expected Lucrezia to have noticed his absence by now and gone looking for him.

  His solitude is of little consolation, however, when I remember the reason I'm here. The subject I need to discuss is enough to make me run for the hills, but I force my feet to stay firmly planted. I can not, however, force them to move.

  I have no beating heart to hammer in my chest, so my breathing compensates; racing in and out of my lungs, though the need to breathe is merely psychological. Again, Malachy's expression when I leaked my knowledge of his ex-girlfriend slices through my mind and I groan inwardly.

  As it happens, I needn't make the effort to approach his door as it swings open unexpectedly. He doesn't seem surprised` to see me and leans against the door frame, his arms folded across his chest, eyes narrowed in my direction. I glance around for an excuse to be loitering in the corridor but with one sweep of his gaze, I know it would be pointless.

  Malachy says nothing and doesn't step aside to allow me entrance. I jump as the elevator churns into motion behind me, its carriage heading up to retrieve passengers from another floor. The odds of them stopping at this particular exit are high, and they'll wonder why I'm stood suspiciously in the corridor with Malachy leaning against his door frame.

  He realises our dilemma at the same time I do and – with a reluctant hand gesture – beckons me inside. I hurry towards him, avoiding eye contact as I slip past into his room. I hold my breath, attempting to avoid his infatuating cloves smell, but it persistently makes its way through my nose and into my throat, sending my head spinning.

  I hear the click of the door's catch behind me and hesitate before turning to face the one person I wish to avoid above all others. He's clearly not thrilled to be around me either; his jaw clenches beneath his skin, his stature is awkward and stiff.

  His room is unchanged, the bed still neatly made, every book and DVD case systematically in its place. He's either OCD clean or spends very little time here. He clears his throat, making a display of it, desperate to hurry my unwelcome visit.

  'I – ' My voice fails me as his pale eyes flicker to my face, hurt and accusing. It's a hard sight to see. 'I owe you an apology.' I speak too fast, desperate to be rid of the sentence. He raises an eyebrow, his gaze steely.

  'You owe me an apology?' He repeats, and I nod, wincing at the cold tone of his voice. 'For what?' He spits. 'For Tia relaying to you a story she was forbidden from telling?'

  I shuffle my feet uncomfortably, my insides twisting at the sound of his authoritative voice. I haven't heard him speak to me – or indeed anyone – this way for a while, and I'm shocked and hurt that he's treating me as if I'm a stranger. He looks through me, as though I'm not here, and I realise in that moment that I'm nobody to him. I never was.

  It's suddenly clear to me that I've read far too much into Malachy's gestures, and subconsciously allowed myself to believe he was doing it all for me. But the truth is that I'm simply a reminder of a girl he once loved, and he took pity on me when I found myself in an impossible situation.

  There is nothing more.

  I feel instant, burning shame at my stupidity. At the notion that Malachy may have... what? Felt something for me?

  What should it matter to me if he does? I feel nothing for him. At least not in that way. He's an Auctorita child; bound by duty and tradition, far too important to be involved with the likes of me.

  I almost laugh at myself.

  'I forced it out of her.' I state simply, focussing on my mission to absolve Tia of blame.

  'How? You tortured her?' He cocks an eyebrow sarcastically.

  'Emotionally, I suppose,' I admit with a shrug. 'I blackmailed her.'

  Malachy crosses the room to stand before the window. He has a beautiful view – not surprising given his status – of the crashing sea upon the rocks. A deserted and disused lighthouse is visible in the near distance, a sinister silhouette against the night sky.

  His back is to me and I take the opportunity to position myself a little less awkwardly behind him.

  'You blackmailed her into telling you something you shouldn't have had the vaguest knowledge of in the first place? How did you manage that?' He asks, not turning to face me and instead, projecting his sarcasm against the window.

  'I asked her to tell me about you.' I shrug. He nods thoughtfully before finally turning to meet my eyes.

  'I don't buy it,' He says with a slight shake of his head. 'She could have simply told you about my background and left that forbidden piece of information out. And, knowing Tia Carey, that's what she would have done.'

  'All right,' I sigh, throwing my arms up. 'You want to know the truth?' I raise my eyebrows and he signals for me to proceed.

  I take a deep breath, not asking permission before sinking down onto his bed. The sheets smell of him and I subconsciously brush the material smooth with the palm of my hand.

  'Your act – this little façade you put on – ' I gesture to his stance; closed off, out of reach. 'You don't perform it as well as you think you do.'

  'Meaning?' He frowns. I sense I've riled him, though he remains, for the moment, composed.

  'Meaning; everybody sees through it!' I slap my hands against my thighs in exasperation. 'Nobody is buying it, Malachy. That thing you do around your sister? That bitchy, 'I'm better than all of you', cold, arrogant thing that you do? It's fake. We all know it.'

  'Why don't you say how you really feel?' He asks sarcastically. I blow air out through my mouth in contempt.

  'You're not listening to me,' I grit my teeth, frustrated. 'You aren't cold, arrogant and pig-headed, you just pretend to be around Lucrezia. When you're away from her you're... different.' I stop myself before my mouth runs away with me again.

  'How so?' He asks, his posture still guarded though I know I've hit a nerve and he's panicking.

  'You're the opposite of all that. You're... down-to-earth, nice, friendly. Good to be around.' I avoid his eyes.

  'You hardly know me.' He snorts, looking down his nose at me. I feel a surge of anger as I watch him. Since realising that his act is fake, it infuriates me even more when he uses it on me. It's like talking to a robot, a character in a cartoon – it's not real.

  'True, I hardly know you. Nobody does, save Lucrezia. Yet everybody knows you put on an act around her. You're not so subtle, Malachy, though she's obviously too stupid to work it out.'

  'Don't talk about things you know nothing of.' He takes a step forward and for the first time, I witness genuine anger. Not like the time on the stairwell, not like when he walked away from me earlier – this is different.

  'You don't have to defend her around me. I'm not going to run and tell anyone,' I squeak, suddenly intimidated. 'Look, your relationship with your sister is your own. I'm just saying that everybody knows you're not yourself around her. I knew almost instantly, and that's what I asked Tia that night. I asked her why you put on this little charade. What the reason behind your schizophrenia is. And she told me hers – and everybody else's – opinion.'

  'Is that so? The Institute has resorted to playground gossip?' He snipes. I shrug.

  'Don't take it out on me. Sir Alec's banishment of your ex-girlfriend obviously wasn't too subtle or nobody would have guessed that it's the reason for your split-personality.' I regret the words the moment they've left my mouth, but it's too late to take them back. I'm in way over my head, talking about things I have no knowledge of and no right to speak about. I sound like a spoilt teenage girl who thinks she knows it all when in reality, she hasn't got a clue.

  'Get out.' His voice is low and I feel a cold shiver run dow
n my spine at his menacing tone. My body goes into a state of panic at the thought of upsetting Malachy, and a stupid part of me wants to throw myself at his feet and beg him to forgive me, to stop speaking to me like I'm a stranger and go back to the Malachy I've come to know.

  But, as with my parents, my pride gets in the way.

  'Fine,' I mutter, standing and heading to the door. With my hand on the knob, I turn back to him, remembering the reason I'm here.

  'Look, this is my fault. Tia told me the story, yes, but I blackmailed and bribed it out of her. She didn't want to and wasn't comfortable with it. I've spoken to nobody about it and she regrets telling me; she's terrified that it'll have repercussions on her.

  I know you owe me no favours – quite the opposite – but will you please spare her any punishment?' I plead him with my eyes, though he doesn't look at me.