The stronger our connection became, the clearer I could distinguish my true desires. I was no longer afraid that Nik could manipulate my mind, and I was learning to trust myself again. Like a loyal guardian, Kaandor protected me, warning me of impending danger, and helped me understand better who I had become now that the vampire venom had changed both of us. Sometimes, the dark companion played guessing games with me, refusing to give simple answers to my questions, as if he hoped I would learn more if I found them on my own. Our alliance was unlike any Kostya or Dr. Smirnov had known, and soon I realized that all the attempts of those around me to fix me only led to new complications, to new painful wounds in the soul. They healed quickly, but left a lasting mark from each such misguided attempt.
Our strange connection with Kaandor began to resemble a partnership where there was no leader or follower: only compromises existed. These compromises made each of us a loser, but if it allowed my friends to live another day, I was willing to pay that price. Until spring break, I had managed not to stain my hands with blood. As much as it seemed possible, I tried to stay away from the guys, limiting my circle of communication to people and werewolves like me, so as not to tempt fate.
"You know, I'll be perfectly fine with a regular fork, but thanks for explaining," I forced myself to stretch my lips into a polite smile in response to Tatyana's suggestion to use another utensil and turned to Dasha. "If you want, we can share my dessert."
Dasha got excited and eagerly nodded, so I moved the plate closer to her, then broke off a small piece with my fork and put it in my mouth.
Sometimes I tried to pretend to be a normal high school senior, even though I had almost given up on the idea of an impossible future. The more I focused on being a werewolf, the easier it became to accept reality, no matter how ugly or difficult it was.
That's why I couldn't say that I still harbored resentment toward Tatyana: after everything that had happened, her actions seemed like a trivial matter not worth paying attention to, especially when compared to other events. The chance for good relations between us had long been buried in my mind—just as quickly, in fact, as Dasha had now sent the last piece of the pastry with airy cream into her mouth. After savoring the treat, she inadvertently cast a brief disapproving glance at Tatyana, who hadn't touched her dessert yet, but quickly smiled and said:
"It's so great that your father made arrangements with the principal and sent the entire eleventh grade here for the break before the official opening of the center," Dasha lifted her cup of tea and took a sip, dreamily examining the hall's décor. "Very sweet of him, and... it must have been expensive."
"Nonsense," Tatyana waved her hand dismissively. "It's only good for my father. We'll live here for a week, and we'll immediately see what needs to be adjusted, finished, or maybe even replaced before we welcome the real guests. The principal, of course, is a piece of work: she drove my dad crazy with hints that after my little stunt, there could be problems not only with the teachers but also with getting my diploma. She casually asked, in between, when the new local attraction—the spa center—would open, and sighed, saying how much she'd love to visit it at least once since there's been so much stress with the students' final exams. She lamented the forced cancellation of the New Year's ball because of the flu epidemic and the huge hole in her personal budget from paying all the organizational fines. She gave my father a whole lecture about how important it is for us, the students, to get an emotional break before university applications. My dad's no fool—he immediately understood what she was hinting at, but he first suggested the principal come with her family in the summer, when the garden would be in better shape and the guest flow would be more manageable. But no, she thought it was a bribe and refused outright!"
"So why did she eventually agree to send all of us here for a week?" Dasha asked, puzzled.
Pleased, Tatyana, with the air of someone who genuinely enjoys a conversation where they know more than the others, answered, "If she had agreed and gone alone, it could indeed have been seen as a bribe. But when the trip to a so-called health center with all the amenities turns into a gift for the entire class from the caring father of a graduating student, it starts to be called charity."
"How convenient." Dasha didn't share Tatyana's amusement and lowered her gaze to the cup in front of her.