CATERINA
As the minutes slipped by, Caterina lost track of them, scattered like grains of sand on a windy beach. The rustling and quiet coughing in the room vanished too, as if down a dark, silent tunnel. All that was left was Rahul’s deep brown eyes.
She’d never noticed the strength there before. They emanated a light, almost, a quiet and steady brightness that she’d never seen in anyone else’s eyes. Suddenly she was flooded with memories of them at the dance, only her memories had the texture and quality of a moment that was taking place directly in front of her. As if she were watching a holographic projection of herself and Rahul. She saw him hesitantly wrap his arms around her waist, as if she were a very expensive, fragile glass doll, or the most precious thing he’d ever held. She saw herself put her arms around his neck and gaze into his eyes then as she was now. He’d said something that had made her laugh, though she couldn’t remember what it was now. She remembered the way it had made her feel in that dark moment, though—normal, almost happy.
Rahul had been one of the only people who hadn’t judged her—either silently or out loud—for the things that had happened with Alaric and Daphne Elizabeth. He was one of the few who hadn’t watched in gleeful shock as she’d fallen from her throne, her Valentino dress billowing out, her crown flying off her head. He’d been tender. And comforting. And still authentically himself. He’d been exactly what she needed.
Caterina blinked. Of course, Rahul was… so very Rahul. What made him all those things—tender, comforting, authentic—were things that placed him firmly outside her social circle. She was in the process of rebuilding her throne, and Rahul was an extra piece. There was no place for him.
The timer rang out.
RAHUL
“Okay. Now, I want you to share with the class what you saw.” Ms. Rivard turned the lights back to their original brightness, which now felt searing to Rahul’s retinas. Ms. Rivard smiled at Caterina and then Rahul. “I’m willing to bet there was some weird stuff. Rahul?”
“Uncle Bipin!” he heard himself blurt out, because the answer had just arrived in his consciousness, now that his mind and time were melting taffy. “That’s who you looked like!” He grinned, relieved at finally having the answer. But Caterina didn’t smile back. In fact, she looked kind of mad.
“I look like… your uncle?” she asked, her pointy nose in the air.
There were a few laughs around the classroom, which Caterina silenced with a single glance.
Oh shit. Maybe that was too much honesty. “No, no!” Rahul leaned forward in his chair, eager to have her understand. “It was the hairy mole at the corner of your mouth. That, and your mustache.”
Caterina folded her thin arms, her glare intensifying. “You are clearly not in control of your faculties, so I’ll wait for the episode to pass before I address what you just said to me.”
Ms. Rivard laughed and clapped her hands together, as if she was delighted. “Rahul, what you experienced is actually pretty common! In an experiment run by researcher Giovanni Caputo, fifteen percent of healthy young individuals who had prolonged ‘interpersonal gazing’—aka eye contact—hallucinated a relative’s face in place of their partner’s face! Isn’t that fascinating?”
Actually, it was. But Rahul couldn’t help but notice the coldness in Caterina’s gaze as she regarded him, as if he were a complete stranger. Dammit. He’d blown it. Why couldn’t he have kept his mouth shut?
“Caterina,” Ms. Rivard continued, oblivious, the big bow on her shirt bobbing, “what did you notice? Any strange hallucinations? Or thoughts and realizations you’d never had before, perhaps?”
Caterina continued the glacial treatment, bathing Rahul’s skin in ice. “No,” she said slowly, as if to make sure Rahul would hear. “Not a single one.”
They returned their seats to their desks then, Caterina not even glancing at him as they walked back. Dammit. Dammit. He’d have to make this right.
* * *
His chance came right after class. Caterina’s friends Heather and Ava rushed off to their next class, which was across campus, leaving her alone. Rahul hurried out into the hallway and waited by the door for her, rehearsing what he’d say in his head as students from other classes rushed by. Keep it simple, Chopra, he told himself as he shifted from foot to foot. Keep it casual and cool and laugh it off. You can still salvage this. Talk about the dance. She has positive associations of the dance, which you need right now.
Caterina came gliding out a moment later, engrossed in her phone, her hair cascading forward and hiding part of her beautiful face as she stared down at the screen.
“C-Caterina,” Rahul said, annoyed that he seemed to always develop a stammer when he spoke to her. “Hi.”
She looked up at him, her brown eyes blank at first. Then, slipping her phone into the pocket of her uniform skirt, she came up to him. “Hi. Are you going to tell me more about your Uncle Bipin?”
She didn’t smile when she said it, which made Rahul nervous. Was she serious? He forced a laugh. “Ha. No. Um. Sorry about that. I was just—”
“Hallucinating.” Still no smile. God, she was making him sweat.
“Right.” Rahul pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Listen, I just wanted to say, about the dance, I had a good time.” Whoa. That came out relatively well. No stammering, no anxious gulping, just a bit of sweat. A solid B performance. Rahul smiled to himself, pleased.
Caterina continued to stare at him.
His smile faded. “Um. And I was wondering—”
“Rahul. Let me stop you right there. The dance was just a dance, okay? It was just the one night and it doesn’t mean anything else.” Her eyes softened for a moment just as his heart went crumbling to dust in his chest. “It can’t mean anything else. I’m sor—”
“Caterina. I need to speak with you at once.”
They both swiveled toward the male voice to see Alaric standing behind Caterina, looking slightly annoyed. A range of expressions crossed Caterina’s face that Rahul caught only because he’d spent so much time staring at her. Curiosity, annoyance of her own, anger, distaste. She turned back to Rahul. “Just a minute, Rahul.”
He nodded and stepped off to the side, pulling his phone out to play a round of speed chess against kingedyourass, a Russian chess player he hadn’t managed to beat yet.
CATERINA
It was the first time she’d really looked at Alaric in weeks. She’d been made aware of his presence in the dining hall and hallway by Ava, Heather, and her other friends, of course, but she’d pointedly looked away in those moments. Now she had no choice but to take him in fully.
He was beautiful; there was no denying that. His tall, lean physique, his shiny blond hair, and those plump pink lips were all picture-perfect. He had better lips than hers, even when she overlined. It wasn’t fair.
Alaric batted his long blond eyelashes at her and sighed petulantly. “You’re looking well.” His eyes ran over her hair, her nails, her skin.
So that’s what was bothering him. Caterina pulled herself to her full height and looked him square in the eye. “Yes. I am. Better than I’ve been in years, in fact.”