CHAPTER 4 The Scholar
1102 Words
Ivy
Snow pounds against the tall windows of the science building as I push through the door. My backpack thumps against my hip, heavy with notes and books. Finals are over, but I still have three chemistry labs to finish if I don't want to fail. I shouldn't have put them off until the end. I didn't expect to be so tired.
The hallway is empty, lights humming overhead. I should be alone, almost everyone has left for winter break. There will be no audience, no snickering classmates. I swipe my student ID and slip into the lab. I inhale the faint tang of bleach and iron. Oddly, it is calming, almost like it is a second home.
I drop my bag onto the floor, and someone clears their throat. I am not alone.
At the far end of the room, someone stands at the workbench, sleeves rolled to his elbows while he pipettes liquid into a narrow-necked flask. He is tall with broad shoulders, but not lean. He is bulky, like a solid mass of muscle with dark hair. The bright lights catch the stubble on his chin, and I can't stop myself from staring. His hands move with precise confidence, like he didn't just know the lab protocol, but he'd written it himself.
He looks up when I enter. His eyes are like cold steel. They aren't warm, but not hostile. Just calculating.
"This lab's reserved," he says flatly.
I tighten my grip on my notebook. "So is my grade. Professor Lee gave me permission to be here as well."
He regards me for only a moment, then turns back to his flask. "Suit yourself. Just don't contaminate anything."
I narrow my eyes at him, but he isn't paying attention to me any longer. I begin to set up my station, as far away from him as possible. Even though my back is to him, I can still feel his gaze on my skin, making the hair on the back of my neck rise. He is almost completely silent. The only sounds in the lab are the tap of glassware and the ice storm outside.
After ten minutes, he breaks the silence. "You're Ivy, right. The girl from the café."
I glance up, startled by his voice. "You know me?"
"You spilled a latte on one of my lab reports last month."
My mouth drops open in mortification. I remember that day. The café was unusually busy, and someone bumped into me from behind. The lid to the latte wasn't on properly, and it spilled all over the table and his notebooks.
"Oh God," I whisper. "I am so sorry."
He doesn't smirk, but he doesn't seem angry. Just curious. "Why are you even in chem? I thought you were an arts major."
I c**k my head to the side, trying to understand how or why he knows so much about me. My jaw ticks. "Because I like science," I say defensively, as I measure out the reagents. "And because I am paying for it myself."
He leans back against the bench, crossing his arms. "Interesting."
I glance up from my flask. "What is interesting?"
"Most people at Northvale are legacy admits or on scholarships. You're neither." His eyes narrow a fraction. "And yet you work two jobs. You barely eat, and you always look tired."
I bristle at his words. "Are you spying on me?"
"Merely observing."
"Same thing."
"Not quite." He tilts his head, still watching me from across the room. "I'm Elias."
"Ivy," I choke on my name.
"I know."
He returns to his experiment without another word.
For the next half hour, we work in parallel. I try to ignore him, but it is impossible. Everything about him radiates restraint, like a predator sitting perfectly still until his prey decides to move. And I am the prey.
Suddenly, my beaker hisses, and an unexpected wisp of smoke curls from the top. "No, no, no," I mutter, grabbing a cloth.
Elias appears at my side instantly. "Too much catalyst," he says, plucking the beaker from my hand before it cracks. His fingers brush mine, cold and firm, but steady. "Here." He adjusts the measurement with practiced ease.
"Thanks," I murmur.
He sets the beaker back down. "Careful. Some reactions you can't undo."
He meets my eyes then, and for a heartbeat, I swear something flickers behind his cold gaze. Something that looks almost kind.
Then he steps back, and the air between us feels thick. "You'll be fine."
I finish my experiment in silence. When I finally pack up, Elias is still at his bench, scribbling notes with meticulous precision.
I open my mouth to speak to him, but close it when I see he is still busy working. I open the door, and he speaks without looking up. "Walking home?"
"Yes."
He puts his pencil down and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Don't."
I turn to face him. "Why?"
He closes his notebook, finally meeting my eyes. "Because the storm's getting worse. And because something's been circling this building all night."
My mouth goes dry as I think about the shadows that have been following me. "Something?"
He shrugs. "Just a hunch."
Before I can respond, his phone buzzes. He glances at the screen, scowls, and shoves it into his pocket. "Be careful, Ivy."
I step into the hallway, my heart thudding in my chest and my mind racing. Why did he know my name? Why is he watching me? And most of all, why does his warning feel less like advice and more like a command?
I shuffle outside of the science building, squinting through the snow. I look for the shadows that have been following me, but I can't see through the storm. The door to the building clicks behind me, and I jump. Elias joins me at my side.
"I will give you a ride."
I shiver against the cold. "I can walk. It isn't far."
"No," he hisses through his teeth. "You will ride with me."
The ride back to my dorm is silent except for the hum of the car's engine. I clutch my tattered bag in my lap, realizing just how much I don't belong in their world. This car probably costs more than I will ever see in my lifetime, and everything I have on comes from a second-hand shop.
He pulls up to my dorm, and I mutter a thanks before slipping from the car. I don't look over my shoulder, but I know he is watching me until I disappear inside, and I don't understand why.
- Writer
