Page 15 of The Beast's Heart

“Yourquiz,” I correct.

Alisha looks doubtful, but she shifts Enrique off her lap and hands him her notebook and a pen. She tells him something quietly and he hesitates only a moment before starting to scribble in her book.

“You may all begin.”

There’s silence in the room for a few moments, punctuated by the sound of pencils scratching across paper, before Mal throws down his pencil, leans back with folded arms and states, “I’m not doing this.”

“Me either,” Ben agrees, readily, casting aside his own pencil.

“You seem to be under the impression that it’s optional.”

“I won’t do it,” Mal states.

Maybe he’s scared. Maybe the questions I set were too difficult. “You don’t have to prove anything to me. It’s just a few questions and/or activities. Don’t worry if you can’t do them. It’s just so I understand?—.”

He forces a laugh. “Right. So you can tell The Beast how stupid we are.”

Ben sucks in a breath.

“I assure you, that’s not?—”

“We may be poor little orphans but we’re not dumb,” Mal says. “Just coz we’re not boujee or whatever.”

“I’m not going to tell The Beast anything. This exercise is for my records only?—”

“Bullshit.”

“Mal—” Alisha cautions.

He whips around to glare at her. “What’s he gonna do? He can’t force me to take a test.”

I suck in a breath. I really thought that we got somewhere last night when he opened up to me. Maybe that’s why he’s acting out now, because he allowed himself to be vulnerable. I need to be the adult. I need to keep calm. I try again. “Mal, I’m not your enemy. I’m just trying to help.”

“Sure. Everyone says that.”

“We need to start somewhere with your education. That’s what I’m here for.”

“What does it matter?” He raises his voice, turning to look around the room at the others. “Not like we’re going to be doctors or astronauts or whatever. Just tell us what to say to the rich folk. That’s all we really need to know.”

“There’s no reason you can’t—” I start.

“No one ever tell you, you can’t polish a turd?

“—what?”

“That’s what we are. That’s why they chose us. The worst fucking turds they could find.”

He swipes his arm across his desk, sending pens, pencils, glue sticks and other sundry stationery flying. His feet slam to the ground as he stands. Ben draws himself up tight around his knees and Enrique starts wailing, his cry as shrill as a siren. Alisha tries in vain to shush him. She stands too, bouncing Enrique as if he’s half his age.

Mal’s fists are clenched and his chest is rising and falling rapidly as he glares at me. I’m just frozen. Uni didn’t prepare me for anything like this.

Mal waves the paper pointedly “Who cares what a… a… compound adjective is? You really think that’s what’s going to prove our worth to those fancy fucks?”

“Don’t use that word.”

He responds by crumpling up that quiz and throwing it at me.

“Mal, for god’s sake, please!” Alisha calls.

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