Chapter 129: Idle Talk Before the Physical

Chapter 129: Chapter 129: Idle Talk Before the Physical

Chapter 129: Idle Talk Before the Physical

Friday arrived quickly.

Cyrus Calder had barely stepped out of his apartment when he met Daphne Whitlock in the hallway, exactly as he had expected.

Over the past few days, Daphne’s attitude toward him had softened in a way that was difficult to ignore. She no longer pressed forward with the same obvious hunger disguised as care. Her voice was gentler. Her timing remained suspiciously precise, but the feeling behind it had changed. If her earlier concern had felt like someone trying to put a hand around his wrist, the current version felt more like someone hovering near the edge of the room, afraid that reaching too quickly would scare him away.

Every day, she still brought food.

The food had become more careful too. Better balanced, better seasoned, packed with more thought. She had started including small side dishes, fruit he could safely eat, and things that would hold up if he did not eat right away. Cyrus noticed all of it.

That was the problem.

Now, whenever he accepted Daphne’s kindness, a trace of hesitation followed.

He still accepted it, because food was food and rent was rent, but the transaction no longer felt clean. Daphne seemed to notice the hesitation as well. Each time he took what she offered, relief appeared in her face, faint and carefully hidden.

Today, she handed him only one lunch container.

"There is no breakfast today," Daphne said. "The school scheduled physical exams, so they told students not to eat beforehand."

"Ms. Hart mentioned it yesterday."

Cyrus nodded, not surprised by the missing breakfast.

Daphne’s eyes lingered on him, as if she wanted to ask whether he had remembered everything from yesterday, whether he had slept, whether the memory loss he mentioned had gotten worse. In the end, she said nothing more.

Cyrus accepted the lunch and left.

When he arrived at St. Alder Academy, the campus already carried a different kind of noise. Students gathered in clusters near the entrance, complaining about fasting before bloodwork, comparing rumors about height and weight checks, and making dramatic promises that they would faint if the nurse took too much blood. A few looked toward Cyrus with the same vague curiosity that had followed him lately, but he ignored them.

He had become better at ignoring eyes.

The first morning class had barely begun when Ms. Hart entered and confirmed the physical exam schedule.

"It is a routine school health check," she told the class. "Nothing unusual. Height, weight, vision, basic measurements, and bloodwork. The school uses this to track student health and catch anything that students or families may have missed. Follow instructions, stay with your advisory, and do not wander."

A few students groaned at the word bloodwork.

Ms. Hart gave them a dry look.

"You will survive a small needle."

Cyrus listened from the back of the room with more interest than the rest of the class probably expected.

The human world had many strange parts, but sometimes it did things in ways that deserved respect. A school arranging routine checks for every student was surprisingly reasonable. If someone had a physical issue and ignored it, the exam might catch it before it became worse.

That kind of system was impressive.

It also sounded inconvenient for anyone trying to keep a nonhuman body unnoticed.

Cyrus followed at the back of the class line when their turn came. St. Alder had arranged the first part of the physical across the athletic facilities and several temporary stations near the field. Other advisories were already waiting in long, restless rows. Teachers stood at intervals, calling names, reminding students not to cut lines, and pretending they could control hundreds of teenagers who had been told not to eat breakfast.

The process moved slowly.

Height. Weight. Vision. Basic posture checks. A nurse with a clipboard asking routine questions. A doctor who looked tired before noon and told students to stand straight, breathe normally, and stop joking about dying from a blood pressure cuff.

By the time senior advisory three completed the first round, the sun had climbed high enough that the morning had nearly become lunch.

The class moved toward the cafeteria.

Not for food.

For blood draws.

The cafeteria had been rearranged. Long tables had been shifted aside, and temporary stations had been set up in rows. Each line had a doctor or technician in a white coat, medical trays, labeled tubes, alcohol pads, gloves, bandages, and small bins for used supplies. The space was wide enough to hold several classes at once, though the number of students made the room noisy.

Nobody looked excited.

Students who had been loud outside became quieter when they saw the needles. Others pretended not to care while checking the line every few seconds. A few students sat near the wall after finishing, holding juice boxes and looking betrayed by their own bodies.

Before it was senior advisory three’s turn, Ms. Hart told them to sit nearby and wait for instructions.

Cyrus chose a less noticeable seat near the side.

He had not been sitting long when Audra Sloane sat down across from him.

He was not surprised.

The glamourkin ring’s aftereffect remained a problem. If staying near him reduced the influence, then her approach made sense. From a practical standpoint, Cyrus could accept it.

The cafeteria could not accept it so easily.

A quiet stir passed through the nearby students almost at once.

Audra attracted attention wherever she sat. Even in a room full of students waiting for bloodwork, she drew eyes without needing to speak. Her cool beauty, neat posture, and calm expression made the seat across from Cyrus look less like a random choice and more like something deliberate.

That was exactly the kind of thing St. Alder loved.

Over the past few days, a rumor had already started spreading. Supposedly, the cold and untouchable Audra Sloane had been meeting a boy every lunch in an empty classroom on the fourth floor. Some versions said they were studying. Some versions suggested apology. Some versions had already become ridiculous enough to belong to students who should have spent more time doing homework.

Several people had not believed it.

Now they saw Audra sit across from Cyrus in the cafeteria, and their disbelief became a long silence.

Maybe the two of them were only friends.

Even that was enough to inspire envy.

Being Audra Sloane’s friend was not an ordinary thing.

Cyrus heard pieces of the noise, even when no one spoke loudly enough to accuse him directly.

Lucky guy.

How did that even happen?

Wasn’t he the quiet one from her advisory?

They really do know each other?

Cyrus kept his face still.

Ever since the ring issue, Audra seemed to have gained another complication, and that complication came from him. To the average student, Audra choosing to stay near someone like him probably looked impossible. A girl who seemed far above everyone else spending time with an unknown boy was exactly the kind of story people found irresistible.

This was different from the situation inside their class.

Campus-level rumors could not be avoided as easily.

If Cyrus wanted to reduce the ring’s influence on Audra, he had to spend time with her. If they tried to hide too carefully and were later discovered, the story would become even harder to control. At least sitting in a cafeteria during a school physical was public enough to be boring.

In theory.

Cyrus looked around the cafeteria once, taking in the students, the lines, the white-coated staff, and the open space. Then his attention returned to Audra.

She sat quietly in front of him, untouched by the noise around them.

The cafeteria was crowded, but she made stillness look natural. The rest of the room seemed to move around her rather than against her.

Cyrus’s glance was casual.

Audra noticed it immediately.

She lifted her eyes and met his gaze.

"What is it?"

Her voice was low enough that only he could hear it clearly.

"I was wondering whether my current image at school is causing you unnecessary trouble."

Cyrus answered honestly.

Audra did not look away.

"It is fine. I am used to people talking."

"I see."

Cyrus nodded, but the hesitation inside him did not disappear.

He did have a way to handle the current influence. Whether he should use it was the question.

Audra lowered her gaze again after his answer, but something inside her brightened quietly.

He cared.

Perhaps not in the way she wanted yet, but he had noticed the pressure placed on her and asked whether it affected her. That was enough to make the recent days feel less one-sided.

They had indeed spoken more often lately. They studied together again. They met in the fourth-floor classroom. He asked about the ring, about her condition, about whether its influence remained manageable. All of that was practical from his side, but practical closeness was still closeness.

The distance between them had truly narrowed.

What she could not feel yet was his interest in her.

Not curiosity about the ring. Not gratitude. Not the cautious cooperation he offered because he wanted information and safeguards. Interest in her, Audra Sloane, as a person standing in front of him.

The answer he had just given carried a faint concern.

It gave her a little confidence.

He was not moving toward her on his own, but she did not mind stepping closer first. If the ring could make him look at her, then she could do the same without relying on it.

She had to be able to.

Audra’s eyes rested on Cyrus as he seemed to fall into thought again. His bangs still hid much of his face, but from this angle, a sliver of his features showed through. Even that partial glimpse carried an almost unreal beauty, delicate and cold enough to feel out of place under cafeteria lighting.

How did a boy grow up looking like that?

Before the silence could stretch too long, their advisory was called.

Students stood and formed a line according to the order Ms. Hart gave them. Audra returned to her place near the front. Cyrus took his position toward the back, where he usually belonged.

Even there, he could feel glances crossing him.

Some belonged to students curious about the rumor. Some belonged to people wondering why Audra had sat with him. Some were only bored and looking for anything more interesting than the needle waiting ahead.

Cyrus ignored them until a soft voice sounded from in front of him.

"Cyrus, are you all right?"

Faye Larkin had turned slightly.

Her voice carried genuine concern.

Cyrus looked at her.

"Yes. I was only thinking about whether this situation is fair to her."

Faye blinked, then gave a small sigh that sounded almost fond.

"You really are a gentle person, Cyrus."

"Am I?"

"Yes, you are."

Cyrus did not quite accept that.

He was only using everything around him that could be used. Even some of his kinder actions were learned behavior, copied from what humans considered appropriate. Help someone who helped you. Refuse unfair things. Protect a useful relationship. Keep people from being crushed if their pain became inconveniently visible.

That did not necessarily make him gentle.

Faye turned more fully toward him.

The line shifted forward a step, giving her an excuse to move closer while keeping distance from the students ahead. Her eyes lifted toward him from beneath the soft fall of her hair.

"I have received a lot of help from you," she said. "If you do not mind, I hope I can help you too."

Cyrus fell silent.

He had no reason to pull Faye into another problem.

Yesterday had been enough. She had already been dragged into suspicion because of him, then targeted by classmates who saw her as easy to pressure. Even if her offer was sincere, accepting it casually would be wrong.

The thought settled what he had been hesitating over.

"I can handle it."

Faye looked at him for a moment.

Then she nodded.

"I believe you."

The line moved again.

Ahead, a student hissed dramatically as a technician pressed cotton to their arm. Someone else muttered that the needle had looked bigger than necessary. Ms. Hart told three students to stop making faces at the people waiting behind them.

Cyrus watched the blood draw stations and quietly adjusted his sleeve.

Physical exams were useful.

They were also dangerous.

His body temperature was lower than normal. His recovery was too fast. His blood was not something he wanted examined too closely by ordinary humans, and after Vera Sable’s reaction to his paper cut, he had even less interest in letting medical staff pay too much attention.

The school’s routine bloodwork would go into sealed tubes, labels, and hospital records. Maybe nothing would happen. Maybe nobody would look past the expected numbers. Maybe human systems were too busy to notice one strange student among hundreds.

Maybe not.

When his turn came, Cyrus sat across from a white-coated technician.

The man checked his name and date of birth from the form.

"Left arm or right arm?"

"Right arm is fine."

Cyrus offered the arm with fewer visible marks. Most of yesterday’s bruises had faded, but faint traces remained if someone looked too closely.

The technician tied the band, tapped for a vein, and paused for half a beat.

"Your skin is cold."

"The cafeteria is cold," Cyrus said.

The technician glanced around the noisy, overheated cafeteria, then shrugged because overworked adults accepted convenient explanations when the line behind them was long.

The needle went in.

Cyrus watched the blood enter the tube.

The color looked normal enough.

That was reassuring, though not enough to relax him.

The technician labeled the sample, pressed cotton over the puncture, and told him to hold it in place.

Cyrus obeyed.

When he stood, Faye was waiting a few steps away with her own cotton pressed to her arm. She looked a little pale but otherwise steady.

"Are you feeling dizzy?" Cyrus asked.

Faye shook her head.

"I am okay. Needles only make me nervous before they happen."

"That sounds reasonable."

Faye smiled faintly.

Across the cafeteria, Audra had finished as well. She stood near the front of the advisory line, watching the room without seeming to watch him. When Cyrus looked in her direction, she met his eyes for a brief moment.

The rumor around them would not disappear.

The problem with the ring would not disappear either.

Cyrus pressed the cotton harder against his arm and made a decision.

Avoiding attention completely was no longer possible. If the choice was between letting rumors grow uncontrolled and giving them a direction he could use, the second option was better.

It might be unfair to Audra’s image, but if she truly did not mind, then a public explanation would reduce the worst possibilities.

Studying.

That was the safest answer.

A top student tutoring an improving classmate sounded ordinary enough. Enviable, perhaps, but not scandalous. If anyone connected their lunch meetings, the empty classroom, and her sitting across from him, they could land on tutoring before anything worse.

It would not solve everything.

It would give the gossip somewhere harmless to go.

The bloodwork ended close enough to lunch that the cafeteria began shifting back toward its usual purpose. Students who had been fasting all morning grew restless the moment they were allowed to eat. The smell of reheated food and trays replaced the sterile sharpness of alcohol pads.

Cyrus returned to the seat he had chosen earlier.

Audra sat across from him again.

This time, the surrounding students had slightly less energy to react, mostly because hunger was stronger than gossip.

Cyrus lowered his voice.

"If anyone asks, should we say you are helping me study?"

Audra looked at him.

For a moment, her expression did not change.

Then a faint warmth appeared in her eyes.

"That is true, is it not?"

"It is true enough."

"It is fine with me."

Cyrus nodded.

Faye’s words from earlier remained in his mind.

You really are a gentle person.

He still did not agree.

He was only choosing a route that caused the least damage while keeping the people around him useful, safe, or at least not hostile.

That was not gentleness.

That was survival with better manners.

Audra, however, seemed to have accepted the decision differently. She picked up her drink, lowered her eyes, and let the smallest hint of a smile touch her lips.

Cyrus did not understand what she was pleased about.

He only knew the immediate problem had a direction now.

That would have to be enough.