k n i g h t i n r e a l i t y

Miles was still silent on the way out, and I hadn't a clue how to go about it. In other occasions, with other people, I would've reverted back to being my usual jovial self, but it seemed inappropriate to do so now. It felt like he'd been tethering on the edge for so long he'd finally snapped, and how could I even begin to pick up the pieces that he'd reduced himself into?

Taking two quick steps so I was caught up with him, I slipped my hand through his arm, curling my fingers tight around the crook of his elbow. "Guess what Ean and I did today."

Miles stared at me. "What?" he asked, sounding rather uncertain.

"We worked. At the shack." His eyebrows arched and I blushed under his gaze. "Sorry. I'm not very good at dealing with...these - " I made a vague gesture with my other hand, " - sort of things. Upset people. Arguments. And I don't exactly want to ask if you're okay because clearly you're not."

"I'm fine, Darcy, you don't have to worry about me."

I smiled wryly. "Well, you're not exactly making it easy for me not to."

He stopped in his tracks and paused. Passing a frustrated hand through his hair, he glanced at me with a pained expression. He seemed to have difficulty picking his next words. "It's just - this problem I have with my Dad. I think you already know what it's about, but I wish I could get him to understand, you know? And I tried, I really did, I tried to talk to him and be as patient as I could but I guess he just - " he trailed off, and then his eyes met mine. They held nothing but apology. "I'm sorry you had to hear what he said about you."

With a small laugh, I hastened to set his mind at ease. "Honestly, it doesn't matter, I've heard this all - "

" - all your life, I get it," he interrupted, wincing at the mere thought of it. "I've heard people call me a loser all my life too. Doesn't hurt any less each time I hear it."

His words startled me. I'd always known that Miles had a maturity far greater than mine, but I hadn't realised he'd come to this realisation on his own. He'd never really voiced his hurt before; most of the time his hurt seemed physical especially during the Hell Weeks, but now he was vocal about all the emotional hurt he'd suffered thus far.

"It does hurt, yes," I admitted softly, "but then I remember that these are people who don't matter to me. Your dad's words don't hurt me much, because I know that what he said didn't change the way you think of me. Did it?"

"Of course not," he answered almost immediately, and then his cheeks tinted faintly. "I-I still think you're amazing. I always will."

I couldn't help but smile. The stuttering, blushing Miles was back. The world seemed righted on its axis once again.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Days flew by as Miles and I waited for the ninth round. Things seemed rather quiet. Not literally, of course, for the beach was still crowded even though the summer holidays were drawing to a close with barely a few weeks left to go.

But if the beach was still a buzzing with life and activity, then Corvus was the exact opposite. It seemed dead quiet. Marcel had no news for me, because she could hardly wheedle anything out of Liam. And that was due to the fact that Liam was no longer the person planning the last two rounds.

"They take turns, you see," Marcel had explained, when I asked her why Liam seemed to have his hands tied in this whole fiasco. "Liam was in charge for two rounds, but the last two rounds are left up to Hank to decide, since he's the head."

There was no telling with Hank. I didn't know him well, but I knew him, I'd spoken briefly to him at times in the past. He was nice and lovely, but as I'd noticed before, the Hell Weeks had a way of changing people. It had changed the boys in the fraternity. It had changed Miles. It had even changed me.

The thought of that made me frown. I supposed Marcel must've noticed, because she was soon nudging me. "Don't worry so much about the initiation," she said. Her voice was gentle, which I knew took quite an effort since she was hardly the mollycoddling type. "Miles will be fine. Although, I have to warn you, the last two rounds will not be easy. They'll probably want things to end with a bang. Unless you've already banged Miles, of course," she added, with an amused chuckle at her own pun.

I didn't think it was very funny. In fact, my reaction was quite the opposite - it was difficult to stop my cheeks from heating up as I thought about the kiss we shared the other day. It was just a simple glossing of lips. Why did it seem so much more than that?

"No way," Marcel blurted, upon seeing my flushed cheeks. I hated how perceptive she was sometimes. "No freaking way. You already did, didn't you?"

"No, I - "

But I was immediately silenced when she flung her arms around me, engulfing me in a hug that made me wonder if she was part boa constrictor.

"You did!" She shrieked, losing the calm, steady composure she usually prided herself with. Her voice was loud enough to make Ean throw a surprised glance at us and, leaving his post at the cash register, he came over to us, looking rather intrigued.

"What happened?"

I covered my eyes. Great, now my brother was in the mix. Thank goodness it was just the three of us at the shack, and not my parents. "Nothing - "

"Oh, Darcy, you little minx!" Marcel didn't give me a chance to finish what I had to say. "And there I was thinking that you and Miles were never getting together even though the two of you were mentally undressing like all the time! I am so happy for you. Now, tell me, how did it happen?"

"It - "

Ean was beginning to look rather wary as he gazed at us. "How did what happen?"

"Miles and Darcy got together. You know," with an arch of her eyebrow, she lowered her voice, "they had sex. The whole shebang," she paused to let out an amused chuckle, "oh, look, I just made another pun again. I'm on a roll."

Ean had listened to her words in growing horror, before finally clapping his hands over his ears. He looked thoroughly appalled, even though I was waving my hands frantically and mouthing for him not to listen to her. "Don't say that!"

"Say what?" she shot back, innocently. Then her eyes slanted into a positively wicked look. "Sex?"

"I'm not comfortable hearing about my sister's sex life. Or anyone else's, for that matter," he added, after a beat.

Unfazed, Marcel simply reached over and mussed up his hair, even though he was much taller than she was. "Aww," she cooed, in the kind of maternal voice that rather surprised me. I didn't know she had it in her to sound maternal. "Has our little boy not heard about the birds and the bees yet?"

He all but growled at her, pushing her hand away. "I have heard about it. I just don't want the details, especially when it comes to my sister."

This had gone on for long enough. A part of me wanted to continue laughing at Ean's awkwardness, but the other half of me found this whole thing ridiculous with a capital R. "Okay. Let me set something straight here," I said, stepping between the two of them and glaring at Marcel before turning a soft gaze on Ean. "Nothing happened between Miles and I. You can stop having a coronary breakdown now."

"Oh, thank God," Ean looked utterly relieved. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I am all for you and Miles getting together. I just don't need to know the details."

Heaving another sigh of relief, Ean backed away from the both of us, resuming his position at the cash register. Marcel, on the other hand, looked utterly devastated, crushed, as she asked brokenheartedly, "you mean - no marcy?"

"What the hell is marcy?"

"You know, the ship name. Miles and Darcy: Marcy. It's what we've been referring to you two behind your backs," she added, with a gleam in her eye.

I stared at her for a long moment, wondering if the sun had finally fried her brains and she'd completely lost it. Then I realised it couldn't be her. "Greg came up with it, didn't he?" She nodded and I scowled. "I'm going to smack him when I next see him. But, seriously, nothing big happened. So we kissed, once. But only because I was worried sick for him and it just happened."

The shrewd, calculative look in Marcel's eyes was sufficient for me to know that she was back to being a levelled headed self. "Keep telling yourself that, Darce. You know the truth better than anyone else. Why do you keep trying to convince yourself otherwise?"

I shot her a meaningful look. It took a good five seconds to register, and when it did, she closed her eyes, running her fingers through her long dark tresses with a groan.

"You haven't told him?" When I shook my head, she sighed deeply. "Darce, I thought you'd already told him since day one! I figured that was the reason why you agreed to help him and the reason why he agreed to let you help him."

With a shrug, I kept my gaze firm on the countertop, studying the creaks and crevices that wedged themselves within the wooden surface. "It just never came up. It shouldn't. He doesn't need to know."

"Yes, but that was before you began having feelings for him and - no, quit pretending you don't, I can see right through you," she drawled smoothly, when I made to argue with her. It was difficult to meet her sharp gaze, the disapproving curve of her lips. "Now, I don't know Miles well, or at all, for that matter, but I daresay that he's going to be hurt when he finds out."

"Which he won't," I returned, emphatically. My eyes met hers now and I knew she saw the firm resolve held in mine. It was sufficient to make her purse her lips, a silent promise that she would not reveal anything if I didn't allow it. "Not until after the Hell Weeks are over. Not until he gets in."

"And if he doesn't?"

I didn't like to think about that.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Miles came over to teach me the next day. Even though I was still pretty much the epitome of an impossible, frustrating student, I found myself improving as time passed. I saw less incorrect questions and kept still for a longer periods of time.

Although, if I was being entirely honest with myself, I supposed a lot of it had to do with the fact that I liked him. I liked watching him teach me - the crease in his forehead when he concentrated on explaining a difficult, new concept; the light in his eyes when he talked about a topic he found fascinating; the tilt of approval playing on his lips when I got an answer right.

Most of all, I liked how I was able to shut the world out when I was with him. I was the Alice he pulled into this imaginary Wonderland of words and facts and equations. When he taught me, nothing else seemed to matter. We momentarily shoved aside all thoughts of the Hell Weeks, family issues, ominous futures and everything in between.

As crazy as it may have sounded, I actually found myself enjoying learning, even though it was all thanks to him.

I suppose Mom and Dad and Ean all saw this, because they gently left Miles and I alone whenever he came over to teach me. Even Marcel was observant enough to know that I didn't like to be disturbed, and she effortlessly handled the queue at Wavelength with Ean, waving off my thanks with a knowing laugh.

So, when the shack was shut for lunch the next day, and Greg had entered the shack through the back door, demanding that I grab my surfboard to catch some waves with him, I scowled at him for disturbing the peace and quiet that Miles and I were having.

"I'm trying to do well for my SATs, mister," I explained, when he asked me why in the kind of plaintive voice that suited a child. "And since you've already done well enough for yours, you can take your surfboard out to celebrate and leave me alone."

"Alright, miss bossy," he grumbled, "if you wanted to have some alone time with Miles all you had to do was say so. It's not like I'm cruel enough to sink the Marcy ship."

It was all I could do not to smack him. But Miles was looking utterly confused. "What's Marcy?" he asked, with interest.

I narrowed my eyes at Greg, wondering if he'd have the courage to actually reveal what it meant, especially after seeing the hidden daggers behind my innocent expression. Surely, he didn't dare to.

Winking briefly at me, he smiled a wicked smile and said, "Miles and Darcy, of course."

Oh, but he did. The nerve of him! Surging to my feet, I was more than ready to smack him just like I promised Marcel I would the previous day, when I caught sight of Miles's expression. It was an odd mixture of surprise and horror, like Greg had discovered something he'd kept hidden all this while.

Clearly, Greg had noticed this too, because he began to back away. "You know, I'll just be - uh, going - "

My glare deepened. It was just like him to up and leave when he'd turned everything topsy-turvy. I loved Greg, but he was so trying sometimes. "Yes. Leave, before I smack you."

"Kinky," he noted, with a grin, but left all the same.

Then the place was silent once again, but the damage had been done. I didn't know what to make of it, or how to fix it. Greg had spoken the unspoken. Neither Miles nor I had ever made to confront our feelings for each other before, but here it was, laid bare on the table.

Could anything be more glaringly obvious?

Not that I didn't like the fact that my feelings for Miles were reciprocated, of course. Nor did I hate the fact that I liked Miles. It was just a lot simpler when we didn't have to face our feelings so soon.

Desperately wanting to break the silence, I pushed my chair back and cleared my throat. "I should, uh, probably - "

"Darcy." His voice was soft, but careful, "there's something you should know."

"Alright." This was painfully awkward. Sitting down again, I tried to meet his gaze but it was difficult, and I hastily averted my eyes. In this aspect, he was far more courageous than I ever was and ever would be. Then again, confronting my feelings, especially the strong feelings, had never quite been my forte.

"I-I've been wanting to tell you this for a long time now," he began, but the words tumbled out of my lips before I could even stop myself.

"I know."

His eyes widened. "What?"

"I've known for awhile now," I admitted, tracing the lines on the table with my eyes. "Which explains all the teasing I've been getting and Greg's slip earlier."

He flushed and lowered his eyes. But then he looked up again, and his eyes held nothing but sincerity in them. "It doesn't have to be reciprocal, you know? You don't have to feel pressured into, um, liking me or - "

"Miles," I cut him off. The amused smile that played on my lips was difficult to diffuse. "Is this the first time you're confessing your feelings to a girl?"

He looked even more embarrassed than he did before, which I hadn't thought possible. "Uh - yeah."

"Piece of advice - don't tell a girl how to feel when you don't know what page she's on yet."

A frown slipped between his eyebrows as he considered what I'd said, and then it was there - the glimmer of hope as my words registered in his head. He stared at me carefully, like he half expected me to snap at him or leave altogether. "And what," he shut his eyes briefly, before opening them again, "what page are you on?"

And then I couldn't fight it. A nagging voice at the back of my head told me that this was stupid, this was going to have disastrous consequences, what would he do if he found out, stop, stop, stop but I ignored it.

"I believe," my voice was barely a murmur, but I had never believed in anything harder than I did then, "I'm on the same page as you."

His eyes widened like he could hardly believe his ears. It took a moment or two, but when a tentative smile glossed his lips, I allowed myself to close the gap between us. His lips were warm as I kissed him gently, leaving soft nips on his bottom lip, letting him fall into the kiss just as I had fallen headfirst into all of this. It was easy to lose my head with him. His scent was intoxicating, his uncertainty reassuring.

I pulled back before the kiss could get heated and smiled, loving the dazed look in his eyes and the flush on his cheeks. With a gentle laugh, I reached down and laced my fingers with his. "And now, I believe I'm three pages ahead of you."