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Pamela Dawes knew she should be a little more worried about Alex storming through Il Baston like a hurricane, but Alex’s natural state seemed to be that of a violent natural disaster. The worry only kicked in as Alex passed her on her way to the stairs, flying up and quick to the Dante bedroom. The door slammed shut behind her, the house only barely able to catch up to prevent it shaking. Pamela stood there in shock for a second, two as she processed what she’d seen as Alex brushed past her.
She’d seen Alex… crying.
Or at least, tearing up. A glimpse of red as their eyes met on instinct; the movement, more so than the other person, making them lock eyes.
In the silence of the foyer, Dawes’ mind ran at a rapid pace.
Was she hurt? Was someone else dead? Had the events of the past year finally caught up to her and she was finally grieving all the life that had been lost on Yale?
What would Darlington do?
Just the thought of him had her knuckles seizing up. Her hands squeezed her pages tight enough to crinkle. She forced herself to relax, to think.
He’d referred to Alex as a ‘diamond in the rough’ when he’d been here. A gem hiding within plain rock. Some might interpret that as letting Alex get beaten into a better her, letting her rise above adversary, overcome obstacles on her own.
“Fuck that,” Dawes muttered to herself without thinking.
She put down the stack of books on a nearby table. Her research would have to wait another day.
The lights flicked on as she crossed into the kitchen. The whole place felt primed for her entry.
She took in a deep breath before getting to work. The kitchen had always felt as home to her as the library, only one usually brought less stress about her future than the other. In the kitchen, her focus was on the food, her thoughts on the recipe and the recipient.
And few foods were as universal a comfort food than pasta.
She grabbed flour from the cupboard and eggs from the fridge. She saw movement out of the corner of her eye as a dishrag swayed gently on the handle of a cabinet, just under freshly cleaned countertops.
Dawes ran a hand along the side of the counter in silent thanks before washing her hands and getting to work.
She created a mountain of flour on the counter before knuckling a divot in the top. There she cracked the eggs, letting them settle in like the strangest volcano. Then she started gently mixing flour and egg together with her hands, letting the egg bind the flour until they started to come together as a dough.
Once she was kneading, she had nothing left to think about other than the natural disaster upstairs.
The words made her pause, hand partway toward the rolling pin.
Alex Stern was… a lot of things. Early last year, she might’ve said Alex was too much trouble for her own good, throwing Lethe into more trouble than it needed. She was uncouth and abrasive. It would’ve been easy to blame her for everything that happened last year, but for all her unconventional methods, she had solved some mysteries, and they were working toward finding Darlington.
Her mind briefly ran down the path of finding Darlington. The sheer impossibilities before them, trying to find and bring someone out of Hell. When she snapped out of the spiral, she stared down at her hands. The dough looked less like a ball and more of a piece of play-dough a kid had gotten his fingers into. She sighed as she rolled the dough back into a ball, forcing her thoughts back to Alex.
Because for everything that Alex was or did, Dawes wasn’t one to see someone go hurting. Well, she froze up often enough in the indecision, but that was because she wasn’t used to being the comforter. Usually, her family and friends were the ones assuring her that everything was okay, no one was staring at her in her indecision, that she could take a breath.
She made up her mind to actually talk to Alex once she was done, not just leaving the food outside her door and running back to the library like the weirdest ding-dong-ditch.
Dawes spent the rest of her time cooking the pasta and vodka sauce thinking of all possible responses to what was wrong with Alex, assuming Alex would even let loose what had her near tears.
Pam gave herself a small smile as she transferred the pasta into the sauce for the last few moments of cooking. A girl, open to the spirit world, but closed to her emotions.
Once everything was ready, the skin under Dawes’ fingernails was as pink as the sauce and she realized she had made way more food than anticipated.
Her own stomach growled as if in answer. She grabbed two bowls and a tray to fit them in response.
Once Dawes had reached the Dante bedroom, she realized the folly of her plans, her arms laden with food. So, as gently but firmly as she could, she knocked on the door with her foot, hoping the design wouldn’t scuff.
No answer.
She knocked again. “Alex?” Her voice was softer than her knock and she chided herself for it.
Silence once more.
“I made pasta.”
More silence, but then a shuffle and the door created open.
“Is it gluten free?”
Cold ran through Dawes’ body as she hadn’t considered if Alex has any allergies. “N-no, but if you need, I’m sure there’s some more flour-”
The door opened fully, cutting her off. Dawes made sure to get a better look at Alex. She wasn’t crying, but even in the poor lighting, Dawes could swear her eyes were puffy. She had changed into Lethe sweats and Dawes belatedly wondered if Il Baston could generate them out of thin air. They never seemed to run out.
Alex looked down at the tray then back up at Dawes. “Are you finally fulfilling your threat of putting more meet on my bones?”
Dawes felt her fact heat up and could only hope it didn’t show in the light. “I- I thought we could eat together.”
Alex furrowed her brows. “Together? Since when do you eat outside of the library?”
“Food isn’t allowed in the library,” Dawes said on instinct, even if, as the words left her mouth, she realized it was a joke.
Alex rolled her eyes, but there wasn’t much malice in the gesture. She stepped to the side, and Dawes wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. She stepped inside.
She hadn’t been in the Dante bedroom in a while.
There was only the one chair, and neither wanted to take it. Then ended up sitting on the edge of the bed, the tray and awkward silence between them.
“So,” Alex started, once they were both settled with bowls of pasta in their laps. “Is there a reason for this date?”
Dawes nearly chocked on a noodle. “Date?”
“God, Dawes, do you need a lesson in teasing?”
The flush on her face must have been answer enough, as Alex went back to eating, a small smile on her face. Dawes never knew how to react to Alex’s teasing. It felt different than every other time she’d been teased.
She answered how she usually did, with honesty.
“I… I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“Two professors are dead.” Alex said flatly. “Manuscript isn’t getting the punishment they deserve for what they let happen with the drug and Darlington…”
Alex trailed off and looked to the floor. Dawes’ gaze went to the window, neither able to speak, neither able to look at each other. Even though they were in agreement with where Darlington was, it was hard to say it out loud. He’s in Hell. They had just started looking for the Gauntlet, but the task was as insurmountable as summer, something that felt like forever but Dawes had the terrible suspicion it would come to a sudden end, for better or for worse.
“I-” Dawes cleared her throat, cleared away thoughts of Darlington. “I know, but I mean today. When you came in you seemed…”
Now she drifted off. She didn’t want to frighten Alex off. She had just taken her first forkful of pasta in the silence. Her features had softened up until Dawes said ‘today.’
Dawes decided to change course, neutral ground. “If it’s something to do with the societies, with Lethe-”
“It’s not.” Alex said gruffly, shoveling another forkful of pasta into her mouth.
“Oh.” A weight lifted off of her, for the time being.
Dawes resisted the urge to roll her shoulders in the gratitude of one less thing threatening the campus, especially as the weight was soon replaced with a new one.
“So, um, what is it?”
“What’s what?”
Dawes bit her lip, biting the urge to scream. Alex’s defensiveness had saved them this past year, avoiding answering questions enough that Lethe and others didn’t look too closely in their dealings. She’d appreciated it as much as she’d feared it back then. Now, with it being reflected back at her, it was like dealing with the most stubborn sphynx.
“Alex…”
“I… my tutor quit on me.”
Dawes paused her movement, putting her forkful of pasta back in her bowl. She had been anticipating a lot of things, but not that.
“He… quit?”
“Yeah.” Alex didn’t look at her as she continued. “He said that if he had to waste his time on me for another semester, he was going to need a tutor himself as he lost braincells to my idiocy.”
“He really said that?”
“More or less, with several more not nice words thrown in for flavor.”
It took Dawes longer than she’d like to admit to string the meaning together. It wasn’t her fault. Dawes wasn’t used to upfront confrontation. The mean kids of her past did so with whispered words and false smiles.
“What an asshole.”
Alex snorted.
“I don’t know why, but hearing you swear is always a treat.”
Dawes couldn’t help the small smile on her face. When most people said that, it felt belittling, like they saw her as a child who shouldn’t swear, only to be surprised. With Alex, it felt genuine.
“So, you’re looking for a new tutor?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Do you want any help? There are always people posting availability on campus.”
Dawes ate as Alex sat in silence. A professor she was TA-ing for once said that silence was the best motivator.
“Sometimes you just have to let the class sit in some silence. It’ll pressure some people to speak up and answer your question. Just wait a minute before continuing on.”
But with all of those eyes on her, Dawes had hated the silence. Here, though, with Alex staring at the floor, in the only place that ever felt like a second home to her, she didn’t mind the silence.
Here, she wasn’t sure what answer she was waiting for. Alex’s schedule, so she could pair classes with tutors? But a schedule wouldn’t be preceded by such a weighty silence. It felt like even the house silenced, with none of the normal creaks or whirs of electricity.
“I didn’t graduate.”
“Oh.”
“Dropped out at fifteen, mentally checked out by thirteen.” Alex said matter of factly, taking another bite. “The… the people I hung out with seemed like more fun at the time.”
Before Dawes could consider how polite her question was, she asked, “So, how did you-?”
“Sandow offered me the scholarship for the ghost seeing.” Alex shrugged. “The tutor was part of the adjustment scheme.”
Dawes put her fork down as she thought about it.
She thought of her own education. Public school, but well-funded by bossy parents who were too cheap for private school but wanted the best for their kids. PSATs, AP classes, SAT and ACT prep work after school, all of the essays she’d ever written for an English class, she added them all up in the three years of high school she had on Alex. At the time, it all felt normal, what she assumed every kid her age was doing.
Sure, not everything was something she used for college. SATs and ACTs were pointless fluff to add another barrier to college entrance. Researching for college papers was its own beast that she learned through trial and error her freshman year. But it had all still helped her understand how to manage workloads, time management, the art of skimming but retaining information.
Alex hadn’t experienced that. Alex had dropped out at age 15 before getting into Yale University. She hadn’t experienced red circles on papers, written notes in the margins, DBQs, after-hours study sessions or placement tests. She’d been thrown to the lions of academia to chase after specters.
And in return, her tutor hurled abuse at her.
Dawes carefully put her pasta on the tray, mindful of how her hands were barely shaking as she stood up. “Excuse me, I have to make a call.”
She turned sharply and left the room, but not without seeing Alex’s confused expression first. Dawes even heard her call her name down the hall, but she kept moving until she found her phone right where she left it on the side table.
Her mind was abuzz with static as she found the Lethe contact she was looking for. The number rang twice before picking up.
“Hello?”
“Hello, this is Pamela Dawes.” Her voice was steady. That was good. “Am I to understand that Lethe appointed a tutor for the current Dante of Lethe House and that said tutor quit?”
“I- yes, I believe so…” There was the sounds of papers shuffled in the background. “Why-?”
“I’m just calling to let you know that Dante will not be needing a replacement set by Lethe. I will be researching potential candidates for Dante’s tutor.”
“Oh-kay? Is everything okay?”
“Yes!” Dawes said, with much more brightness than she felt in her heart. “But for future Dantes, I suggest you take into account the person’s educational background before assigning them a tutor. Have a good day!”
She hung up, only then taking in how much more of her was shaking. She sat down in the armchair and just breathed; her phone still clutched in her hand. She’d never done that, stated what she was going to do and that it would be done. Never within Lethe or any other part of her life.
She felt, more than heard, Alex come down the stairs. Lethe House confused her sometimes, floorboard creaking one day but silent the next.
The seat beside Pamela settled and she saw Alex’s battered shoes beside her own. There was blessed silence between the two of them, until Pamela felt her breathing steady out.
She looked up at Alex, who looked as unreadable as ever.
“Dawes, I don’t need a babysitter.” Her voice was firm, but Dawes thought she heard some guilt in her tone.
“I know that, just…” She took in a deep breath. “Everyone deserves a quality education.”
Alex raised her eyebrows. “And healthcare is a right and all cops are bastards. Any other liberal witticisms you’ve got there?”
“No, that’s not what I meant…” Dawes grasped for words, but after winging it for the enter conversation, she fell short. Dawes threw her hands up in frustration at not being able to find the right words like Darlington. “You deal with enough shit with the societies to be able to at least pass your classes with a good tutor! It’s the least Yale could do for you!”
Silence stretched out.
“So, you’re gonna find my new tutor?” Alex asked, with a hint of a smile.
Dawes blinked. The tone of her voice and her smile, almost gentle and teasing, but unlike her usually teasing. It felt like the floorboards of Il Bastone had tilted.
“I thought we’d look together. You know what you need more than I do.”
That seemed to be the first thing that caught Alex off guard all conversation. Dawes quietly wondered if someone had ever put Alex first, if Alex had ever put herself first in a way that meant more than survival.
Alex recovered quickly – didn’t she always – and shrugged, sitting down in the chair next to her. “Alright, if you can handle it.”
“I… I’ll try.”
Alex gave her another unreadable look, but seemed settled in.
“At least you’re honest.”