The hum of the boiler and the light glowing from under my doorway is more welcome than I had imagined. That was terrifying. Exhilarating too, if I'm being honest, but whew, I'm going to need to take a break from that for a while.

I shove open my door to find Teacher at my desk with his head in his hands and a box on his lap.

"Elizabeth!"

He almost looks happy to see me but then his face hardens.

"Where were you?"

"Trying to have fun," I say and cross my arms.

"With who?"

Is he really grilling me right now? He's the one waiting in my room at three in the morning.

"Is that important? If you're going to punish me for violating curfew, then do it already. If you're not, just tell me why you're here so I can go to bed."

I'm not sure what he expects after the way he acted today. He was a complete ass to me and everyone else. If he wants to talk, he can talk, but I don't owe him anything. Not after what happened back in his study.

I take a seat on my bed as far from him as I can manage. He gets up with the box in his hands, and for a second, I think he's going to leave, but he doesn't. Instead, he sits down beside me.

"I came to say sorry, and to give you this."

I didn't expect that. He shuffles and places the box between us.

I don't reach for it. Whatever is inside won't change what he did and it sure as hell doesn't explain his motives. He sighs and places the box on his lap.

"You're too kind a person to be an enforcer, Elizabeth. And you aren't nearly as jaded as you think you are. That's what I should have said instead of teasing you."

He opens the box to reveal a pair of crystal heels that reflect the ceiling lights into my eyes. They're gorgeously uncomfortable looking, but I try not to stare too closely.

"Do you think you could forgive me, Princess?"

He's giving me that damn look with those damn eyes and that damn small smile of his. That same look his fan club swoons over. But I'm not them. It'll take more than that and a gift to win me over.

"Just tell me what got into you today, and what's been bothering you lately."

He sighs and pulls his hand through his hair again.

"I'd rather not."

"Then why come all this way? If you're going to go through the trouble of apologizing, you might as well prove that you mean it."

He looks at me sideways and I raise my eyebrow at him. He looks towards the shoes and pulls them from the box.

"At least try them on," he says.

"Not until you explain yourself."

"We can do it at the same time, fair?"

I shrug and begin slipping off my shoes. They fall to the rug with a dull thud as Teacher moves to kneel in front of me.

"The council has been questioning whether or not it's appropriate that a facilitator be in charge of the enforcers on campus. I've had to go to many meetings because of it."

So that's what he's been doing off campus while I ditch my classes. Those same jerks that let Theron walk the campus free were now trying to punish Teacher for being my facilitator. And he never told me.

"You promised in Elsewhere there'd be no more secrets between us," I say.

"No, I didn't. I said I wouldn't keep secrets that affected you. And I also said that you didn't need to know everything."

He eases the first slipper onto my foot and gently sets it down.

"You really think the council giving your job away wouldn't affect me?"

"I'll be your facilitator no matter what happens. Even if someone else takes over, I'll be around more to make sure you don't ditch all of your classes. And maybe you'd be half decent at dancing. It would be a positive for you." He slides on the other shoe and smiles up at me. "Fit for a princess, right?"

I let my shoulders drop and look into his eyes. He hates what is happening, and while it doesn't make all of his actions okay, it does explain his crappy mood. I just wish he'd be honest and not try to spin this into a good thing.

"How could you say that?"

"Easily."

He smirks and stands before offering me his hand. I take it and let him help me up. When I get to my feet, he cups my hand in his. Before I can ask what he's doing, he sets my other hand on his shoulder and places his at my waist.

He wants to dance, now?

"There's no mu- "

He begins to hum and move his feet. I struggle to keep up in the new footwear. The heel is just high enough to place my head level with his heart. I'll never understand this man. Moody as hell, secretive as hell, and honestly, it should be enough to make me truly hate him.

Damn, I really wish I did hate him.

That tune he's humming. It's vaguely familiar and it thrums into my bones. Maybe I'm just tired, but it's soothing.

And yet, there's something wrong about this. Something in the way Teacher moves that, I don't know, says 'anxious', to me. He spins me once.

"Teacher."

He spins me again. I'm still for only a second, but I see worry behind his eyes. He keeps humming. I stumble and step on his foot.

"See? No harm done if I get a bit more free time." He's trying to force a smile, but it's the same hollow one he gives everybody.

I pull my hands back. "Don't lie to me. Even if you might not like your job, you'd hate whoever they'd replace you with more. When did these meetings start anyway?"

He puts his hands in his pockets.

"After we got back from Topside."

I fall backwards onto my bed. This is because of me, probably because of what happened with Theron. If Teacher hadn't brought the issue to the council, if I wasn't around, this wouldn't be happening.

"And that is why I didn't tell you."

"Well it's the truth, isn't it?"

I shouldn't have brought us back. We could've stayed there, he would've been fine, he can survive anywhere. But I had to be so selfish and bring us back, all because I thought he'd eventually leave. Because of me the council might get even more power at the academy, and that won't benefit anyone other than jerks like Theron. It would've been better if Teacher hadn't volunteered to take me in in the first place.

His expression hardens.

"Elizabeth, if there's one thing, in my entire existence that I don't regret, it's taking you as my one and only student. I can be content just being your facilitator."

"You can't possibly think I'll believe that."

His mouth opens to prepare for whatever other lie he's going to give me, but instead, he shuts his mouth and bends over. His hand reaches towards the floor and I follow the tips of his fingers to the folded post-it note that must've fallen out of my dress.

My blood turns to ice. Uh oh.

"You went through my desk?"

He looks up at me with the note between his fingers.

"I wasn't snooping," I say quietly.

"Oh? You just thought a Sock would fit into my drawers, is that it?"

I look away. My emotions feel like they're on a pendulum gone haywire. And it's not like I can lie without being a hypocrite after I just scolded him for doing the same thing.

"Why did Caiden give you those newspapers?" I ask.

"You went through it?"

I nod instead of answering. He sits on my desk chair.

"What else was in there?"

I tilt my head. "You never looked inside?"

"Why would I?"

My jaw drops. "You're still holding a grudge? Seriously?"

"He didn't know where Catherine was. I settled my debt with her in Elsewhere. I don't need whatever extra guilt he wrapped up in that paper."

How would newspapers from my death day guilt trip him into remembering Catherine? Caiden did always think Teacher was too hard on me, maybe it's something like that.

"Any other secrets you need to tell me?" he asks.

I cross my arms.

"Nothing that would affect you," I say with a smirk.

"Excuse me, smartass? Need I remind you that everything that happened today was your fault?"

I roll my eyes.

"Is it really my fault for thinking we were friends and that, as a friend, I should support you being whoever you are?"

"Yes, because obviously you don't have a clue who I am."

I scoff.

"What do you expect with you being cryptic all the time?"

"Well, it's not like I ever intended that we be friends."

My smart mouth goes dry.

These talks with him are nothing like class with Hercules, or the fights I get into with Sparks. I never get the upper hand and the few words he says to me, sting. He's always right and it hurts. We haven't known each other long at all. Hell, I don't know anyone here, not really.

He might not have meant to hurt my feelings just now, but I don't need to be reminded of the lopsidedness of our relationship. I don't know him, but he knows me. He's seen my memories as if he stood where I did. And me, well, the closest I've ever gotten to that was the act he played in Topside. I don't know why I expected him to be that same person when we came back.

He turns back to the door.

"Well, what did you intend to be?" I ask quietly.

He puts his hand on the door frame and turns to face me.

"My intentions haven't changed," he says with a small smile. I can't tell what it means, if he is trying to tease me again or just being stubborn.

"Why can't you ever give me a straight answer?"

"Because you're not stupid enough to need one."

With that, he leaves me to struggle to fall asleep.

***

The world around me is hazy, as if I'm viewing it through a grey filter. But I can still make out the hardwood floor and wood paneling, some weird black machinery in the center of the room, and the bright white light flooding through large windows. There's a book in front of me, a journal, but I can't make out the words.

Oh. So this is a dream.

Even though I'm cognizant of it, the dream doesn't fade away.

"I don't understand why you both have to pick at each other so much," a voice beside me says.

Her voice is gentle, calm, and faintly familiar.

"It's not my fault he's so thin-skinned. I can't imagine what you see in him."

That isn't my voice coming from my mouth.

"Matthew, please. He does try, he's just a little meek, that's not a crime."

What the hell? I've never dreamt I was someone else before. Maybe a different version of myself, but never someone I knew. I feel his eyes roll. I'm not in control of anything. I'm just an observer, as if I'm barely on the fringe of what's happening.

"If I write it down it will be," he dips his pen in the ink well beside him and writes in the journal. "'Rule #120: Don't be a meek loser'. There. It's official. Want to wish him well before we cast him off?"

"Matthew."

"Catherine," he whines. I've never heard him like this before, even through his own ears it sounds foreign.

She holds her curtain of curly brown hair and leans over to cross out the fresh ink.

"If the council trusts you enough to write this, you have to take it seriously. This may last forever, don't you get it? This will dictate the course of our history and every student that comes after we're long gone."

When you're gone, maybe. I'm stuck here forever.

His thoughts, I can hear those too.

"Then they should have had you write this," he grumbles. He tears the page out of the notebook, crumples it, and tosses it into a nearby drawer.

"You're the only psychic who understands what the founders left behind. Quit moping."

"Lover boy is a psychic too, if you haven't forgotten."

She shakes her head at him.

"He's still just a student, and new, remember?"

"Yes, but if I recall correctly, he's already on the list to be considered for graduation this spring, isn't he?"

She beams.

"You've heard? I know it's only been a year, but he's been working hard, even if he doesn't admit it. He may doubt his chances, but if he doesn't get it this year, surely next!"

"God, Catherine, don't gush over him like that. It's not a good look for a facilitator to catch feelings for their students, it's just wrong," he says.

She sits back in her chair.

"It isn't like we have much control over these things, Matthew. I didn't set out to fall for him, love doesn't work like that. It was spontaneous."

He scoffs.

"Spontaneity is hardly an excuse. He's a bit young, don't you think?"

She stiffens.

"He died the day before his eighteenth birthday, so it's not..."

"And that's what I'm talking about, well, not me, but others. Think about your reputation. Age aside, you being his facilitator is bad enough. Imagine if it had been me in your place."

She smiles at him.

"And here I thought you were still into women who hated you. Didn't know that extended to guys too."

He flicks his pen at her.

"Idiot. Exploitation isn't a game."

She tosses it onto the desk and crosses her arms.

"You don't really think that I am taking advantage of him, do you?"

"No, but that doesn't stop others from saying things. And it isn't the best example."

"I didn't ask to be the epitome of perfection on campus," she says as she slumps into the chair beside him.

"Oh? But you play the role so well," he says sarcastically.

She punches him in the side then leans her head on his shoulder.

"I just don't care anymore. I love him, Matthew. A lot. Enough to make me think we ought to just go back to Topside and live out our lives there."

I feel his body go rigid.

"You'd do that? Leave all your students behind, even knowing you could die at any moment?"

She nods. "If we can't live without judgment here, yeah. I can still help humanity from there, one person at a time. Besides, I'd like to see him grow old with me, if we could be so lucky, y'know?"

You won't be, his inner thought says. I know what he means. Caiden is psychic. Catherine would grow old, but he never would.

"But that's something to think about whenever he graduates," she says. She stands up and stretches.

"If he graduates," he corrects. And if he really loves you, his inner voice adds. She sighs dramatically.

"Y'know I wouldn't be his facilitator if you had agreed to facilitate him like the council asked."

He waves her words away.

"But you Aquas are so accommodating, there's no way I could have taught a student like you. I don't have the patience for it."

"You don't seem to have the patience for much of anything."

He lifts his pen. "Ah ah ah, don't forget I have the tool right here that could cease your little romance in a matter of weeks."

She crosses her arms.

"You wouldn't."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because I know you. You're no villain, even if you don't believe in love."

"Oh, but the best villains do, don't they?"