And They Were Roommates(46)
I’m tired. That’s why I’m dying.
Tomorrow, I won’t feel a thing.
Chapter 23
AS I LAY DYING
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 12
Shakespeare once wrote “arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,” but that is the worst ideology for a Saturday morning. I pull my blanket higher up my face to block out the light. The chatter coming from the Halo is too loud, and the scent of burnt leaves is too strong. The academy must take a blowtorch to every single sprig to keep up appearances for donors.
I have training with Xavier soon. I almost forgot.
Groaning, I tug off the blanket. The wall beside my bed isn’t in front of my face where it should be. Same for the pillows. Instead, there’s a sleeping Jasper.
I yelp and scramble to sit up. Not my bed. The rug is still littered with notebooks and burned tea-light candles, where I must’ve fallen asleep while writing letters. Ones that Jasper approved of, that made me feel so synced with him for once. I can’t help but smile at how he lies on his side next to me, his blond hair frizzy and draped over a cheek. His blazer is wrinkled, barely on his body anymore.
I glance down at my fistful of blanket. No, sleeve. Jasper’s sleeve.
Heat burns in the pit of my stomach and explodes into my head. I flick the sleeve away and touch my cheeks.
A fever. Definitely.
Health Services. Now.
* * *
Welcome!
Health Services is closed on Saturdays!
In case of emergency, visit the checkout booth between the two academies to contact our nurses in the off-campus instructor quarters.
I throw up my hands. “THIS IS AN EMERGENCY.”
“Charlie?”
Robby stands by the gift shop next door, not a wrinkle on his blazer or curl out of place above his drop fade. His number-two enamel pin is covered up by a plastic organizational binder against his chest, which I easily recognize since he always overfills it. Too many horse trading cards, maybe.
I hide my zipping panic by summoning a very calm, very normal smile. “Hi.”
Robby inspects the Health Services door. “Are you ill?”
“Maybe. I’m supposed to meet up with Xavier, so I wanted to know if I’m contagious, but they’re closed.”
“You do look off,” Robby says to me. “Do you suffer from anxiety stress? Sleeping problems? Dizziness? Any general worry over people, places, and things?”
He speaks almost like a real doctor, and one with an actually thoughtful bedside manner. When it comes to STRIP, Robby has always been the most professional and reliable. That must seep into every other part of his life too.
Jasper once mentioned that Robby wants to study biochemistry at MIT. Maybe he wants to become an MD.
I put my hands on Robby’s shoulders, and he presses his binder tighter to his chest. “I just had a great idea. What if you did an appointment for me?”
“I-I’m not qualified.”
“What about med school? Med school?” Did I just say that twice?
“I’m not planning to go to med school?”
“But you’re on the biochem track.”
“For veterinary school.”
Right. The trading cards. “Because of the horses?”
Robby lights up. “I love all animals, but especially horses. They’re friends. There aren’t a lot of thoughts in their heads, but they’re nice, and you can share snacks with them like carrots.” His words quicken like I’ve asked what he’s been waiting for someone—anyone—to. “And hay. And Fruit by the Foot.”
I nod slowly, even though I felt like I was borderline tripping on cold medicine a moment ago. There’s something about Robby’s wholesomeness that washes a brief sense of calm over me. Maybe Robby is Rank Two because he’s an MIT hopeful, but there’s no doubt he must also be driven to hit the leaderboard for that unlimited equestrian center perk. “That’s why you have so many cards?”
“Yeah.” With careful movements, Robby opens his binder, revealing the many folders stuffed with his overflowing sparkly horse cards. “I’ve been a collector of Girth and Gallop trading cards since I was six. My parents couldn’t afford to get me a real horse when I was growing up, but they had these for sale under the counter of the garden store my mom visited all the time, so I’d shove them in my pockets before I understood the concept of shoplifting. Half these cards derive from theft.” He closes his eyes. “For shame.”
It’s a lot at once, but I’m still stuck on one part. “You couldn’t afford a horse?”
“My family was sort of struggling until recently.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but my mom went back to school for years to become a nurse anesthetist, and then she started a fund to help me enroll in one of these academies. I’m really thankful for her.”
“Wow,” I say, stunned to relate to anyone else on campus in this way.
“And for STRIP, too, of course,” Robby adds. “They let me talk about the Hackneys here all the time. For me, it’s like a horse club. Plus friends.”
In the distance, Blaze jogs toward us, the overcast sky behind him matching his ominous, destroying aura. His marker-stained dress shoes crunch against the path, and his backpack jostles against his back, the tip of a few letters sticking out.