Page 33 of Omega Chattel
I bit hard on my lower lip.
“I know you’re still settling in,” said Tarin.
“I’m stupid, that’s it.”
“What did I say about that word?”
“Not to use it,” I answered.
“You do want to be here, do you not?”
“Yes.” I blinked as hotness began to seep through my eyes.
“What did you do today? Not your studies, that’s a given.”
“The garden.” I swallowed. “I like it outside.”
Tarin leaned forward in his desk chair. “Ah, Oren mentioned you helped him bring in all those fresh veggies we had in our salads tonight.”
“I spent the entire afternoon out there,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. You’re very young. You’re still finding yourself.”
Young.It sounded like a crime. And maybe it was. Oren was older by only two years but it felt like leaps and bounds.
The room seemed to close in on me, the walls with all their pretty pictures of mountains and seascapes, the floor patterned with ornate rugs, and even my chair. Too small, too confining, and too close to Tarin. His warmth intruded over me. Around me. It was as if we were already touching and yet still inches away from each other.
Tarin raised his eyebrows, then shifted as if uncomfortable. His chair squeaked and he leaned toward his computer again.
The air seemed hot now. Did he feel it, too?
“Everything in your life has been disrupted.” He didn’t wait for an answer from me, or even seem to want an explanation of my own feelings. “How about lighter reading for a while, and I’m going to give you something else. Open your computer.”
With shaky hands I lifted the lid and turned it on. My unfinished assigned readings stared me in the face. Boring. Hard. Making me feel like an ungrateful brat. I should have been able to do this. It should have been easy.
Then something popped in live on my screen. Two books. On gardening.
“These may be more to your liking. A chapter a day. I want you to make your own projects as homework. Clear some space in one or two of the garden beds for yourself.”
I glanced up, blinking hard. “Really?”
If Tarin thought this was punishment for me, he was crazy.
“Really.” The hint of a smile dusted his face.
I sucked on the insides of my cheeks to keep my excitement from overwhelming me.
“That’s all,” he said lightly, turning back to his screen.
I was dismissed too soon. I hadn’t had the proper chance to tell him all my thoughts. And maybe some of my secrets. Maybeallof my secrets.
“Sir. Tarin.” I stood, closing my laptop and holding it against my chest.
“What?”
“I—I feel like I’ve done so much wrong.”
He looked up, lips parting, pink, perfect. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”
