Miss Finch entered the classroom and the excited post-meal chatter hushed. Thomas refolded his poem. The creases in the paper were fraying, and the paper itself felt more like cloth from the excessive handling. He dared a glimpse towards Artie but she appeared to be lost to the world as she gazed out the window. Her arms were crossed as she leaned back in her seat. There was a hardness to her features that was not there a few moments ago.

Did something happen?

Thomas passed his poem forward. Miss Finch instructed them to read from their textbooks while she reviewed and graded their poems. The dry textbook's words refused to linger long enough in Thomas' memory to share their meaning. They were merely markings on a page. Thomas had to refrain from groaning in frustration.

Was writing that poem a mistake?

Thomas did not want to write about his past. He was never going to forget it so why immortalize it on paper as well? Besides, no one would want to read a horrifying poem like that. No one should. Which left Thomas to write about the one positive thing, rather, person in his life right now: Artemis.

He had completed it in one sitting but had made so many corrections and alterations over the course of several days that he had to start a new page. Even when he thought he was confident and satisfied with the finished result, the thought that it was not good enough would peck away at him, causing him to compulsively unfold and reread the poem. Part of himself mocked him for taking this assignment so seriously. He wanted to become an inventor, not a poet. Besides, who was he trying to impress? However, another side of him wanted to try something different and wanted to do it well. Regardless, he wanted to do Artie justice as best as he could. He was not always good with words but he hoped he unearthed some gems. After all, she was his...well, he wasn't sure who she was to him now.

His fingers twitched at the memory. She had kissed him. He closed his eyes. The image of a sunflower-yellow duckling surfaced to his mind. Small, downy, warm, and soft in his pale palm. There was a different thrill than when Thomas kissed her. Maybe it was the fact that she openly kissed him where others could potentially see them. He sighed softly, almost sounding like a scoff. He only felt brave enough to kiss her when she was asleep and while they were surrounded by darkness, moonlight, and silent voices trapped in parchment. 

"Thomas."

He jumped at the sound of his name, his eyelids snapped open. Miss Finch beckoned him to her as she rose from her seat. A few students, including Charlie, jeered quietly as he passed them. She lead him out of the room and closed the door enough so that it was ajar. The corridor was empty. Thomas was certain that she was either going to scold him for appearing to fall asleep in class or going to ask why Mr Douglas found him and Artemis sopping wet in this morning's downpour. After all, she was the one who had to deliver Artie's punishment for it. Fear struck him then. Did Artie tell her where they were last night? The thought didn't occur to him until now. Thomas didn't say a word while Mr Douglas paddled him. He was used to the pain. He had stopped crying out for a long time. But he didn't think about Artie.

There was an odd look on Miss Finch's face as though she was trying hard to conceal a secret. She held up his weathered poem.

"This is very good, Thomas. I can see you placed quite a bit of time and effort into it."

"Yes, ma'am. I did."

Miss Finch's face bloomed into smile. Thomas' cheeks started to warm. He never realized how young she was. He suspected she was the youngest professor among those who seemed to have been birthed by the school itself. However, her hair was often away from her face and her expressions were usually one of mild annoyance or authoritative sternness.

"I would like to share this with the class, if that's alright with you."

Thomas' heart jolted.

"Please, ma'am. I would rather you didn't. I-"

She held up a hand.

"Say no more."

Her smile didn't waver as she returned his poem to him...with top marks.

"You have quite a muse there, Thomas. I hope she takes you far in your future assignments."

Thomas nodded his thanks. For a moment, he sensed she was going to wink at him in genial manner. Then, several squeals and shouts erupted from the classroom. Miss Finch's smile disappeared as she marched and closed the distance back to the room.

Several chairs and tables have been jostled around the room. Charlie was fending off Artie as she appeared to be attempting to claw at his face. Pieces of parchment were clutched in his chubby hands, his face flushed red with exertion. Artie was grunting and lurching forward with all the might her small frame could muster as Charlie's mates were trying to pull her off him. All the girls in the class pressed themselves against the walls as though Artie had a contagious rabid disease while the boys watched on with amusement.

"What is going on here!" barked Miss Finch as she strode over and yanked Artie from the other two boys' grasp.

"He stole my poem! And he-"

"I didn't know it was hers and she just attacked me!"

"You filthy liar!" shrieked Artie. "You tore it apart!"

Thomas didn't know what to do except to stay besides Miss Finch. Not that he could move anyway. He had never seen Artie angry. Her white hair looked wild from her struggle and her eyes were icy and fierce. Her clenched jaw and bared teeth did remind Thomas of an animal, not a crazed one, but one out for blood. She didn't even acknowledge Thomas. Her sole focus was on Charlie and on the papers still in his hands.

Miss Finch held out her palm and glared unblinking at Charlie. He relinquished the crumpled and tattered pieces. She slipped them in her pocket and ordered everyone to set the room right. Thomas didn't miss the look of smug satisfaction on Charlie's face the moment Miss Finch turned her back. He wished he could punch that look right off Charlie's pudgy face, but more than anything, he wanted to comfort Artie. The inscrutable expression on her face now made Thomas question whether more took place here than he and Miss Finch realized. After class, Miss Finch immediately escorted Charlie and Artie towards the headmaster's office. This will be the second time Artie would have been there today. Her parents will have to be notified, and hopefully, so will Charlie's. 

Thomas was ready for this seemingly endless day to be over. He wanted to return to the quiet of last night and just be in Artie's calming presence. However, if Artie revealed the location of her secret hiding place and the fact that they both had spent the night there, Thomas knew that it would be sealed off and that they would be monitored more closely, or worse, they would have to be separated.

Realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. Artie's sketchbooks. They were still there. He would need to get them before potentially anyone else does.

Come dinner time, Artie was nowhere to be found. Thomas inhaled his food out of nervousness for Artie's books and concern for her well-being. It's not likely that the headmaster would punish Charlie and Artemis severely over a mild brawl. But then again, if he knew that she and Thomas were out of their beds, together and alone, all night long...

Charlie entered the dining hall just as Thomas returned his plate and silverware. No, not merely entered, but strutted. He spotted Thomas and his smirk widened. Thomas looked past the door, hoping to see Artie but she wasn't there. Something was wrong. 

Thomas struggled to refrain from sprinting out of the hall until he was past closed doors. The rain how stopped and thick fog took its place. His sprint turned into a jog when he realized that he could only see a few feet in front of him and had to make an effort not to collide with anyone. Thomas' shoes quickly drank the icy water and sunk into the damp earth with every step until he managed to see the outline of the library. There were several students about, clustered together at tables or meandering between bookshelves. Thomas attempted to appear nonchalant as his shoes squeaked horribly. Two girls giggled and whispered when they saw him. He tried to smile back but it didn't reach his eyes. They were in the exact spot he needed to be. He pretended to be browsing through the books, careful to keep the girls in his sight, waiting for them to leave. When it became apparent they were not leaving any time soon, he approached them.

"Pardon me. I appear to have been looking in the wrong section."

The girls moved around him as he neared the bookshelf closest the wall where he could just make out the outline of the window frame in the gap. The girls twittered among themselves as they left, throwing not-so-subtle glances over their shoulders. When Thomas knew he was alone, he squeezed himself through the gap and gasped. Artie's hiding place was cleared out as though it had never existed.