Chapter Seventeen:
The three of us drove down to Virginia on Friday and spent the weekend settling into what was to be our home for the school year. Our dormitory was tucked away beside a fountained lake toward the back of the campus, situated on a street lined with dormitories and frat houses. It seemed that freshmen were the main occupant of our building, which meant that raucous parties would soon be unavoidable.
Beth and I shared a room on the third floor with a small hallway that connected to Joel’s room and our shared bathroom. There were several common areas on each floor, consisting of an outdated kitchen, a game room with pool tables, dart boards, and pinball machines, and a spacious chamber that consisted of nothing but tables and couches.
“I certainly hope they pay people to clean these rooms,” I muttered to Beth as we peered into the kitchen. I doubted that the resident assistant at the desk in the hallway would bother to monitor any parties.
“Probably student workers,” my cousin figured, “but now you know why I said we need a fridge and a microwave. No way would I stick my stuff in that kitchen where anyone could get it.” She curled her lip.
I agreed wholeheartedly, the spoiled part of me recoiling from the concept of living in such conditions for nine whole months. Oh well, it’s part of becoming an adult, I guess, I told myself, trailing Beth’s course back to our room.
On Sunday night, after we had both fully plotted out our class schedules—we would register tomorrow along with the rest of the freshman horde—Beth and I sat on the beanbag chairs Aunt Linda had given us, leaning back against our beds while sipping cans of soda and splitting a bag of popcorn. We had closed the door to Joel’s portion of our apartment, because neither of us had decided how we felt about his roommate yet. He was a short guy with round glasses, a comb over, and a thick southern drawl. I had trouble understanding his dialect, since New Jersey’s version of English was the type that I knew best. I still mocked my father whenever I heard him speak his British English, which usually incited him to swat playfully at me. I wondered how he was doing all by himself in the Thaden house.
“So you still haven’t told me whether you’ve learned any wacky new Teutonic magic over the past three years,” Beth commented at length, leaning her head back against the mattress of the bed she had chosen, the one closest to the window. Her brown eyes shifted toward me with a conspiratorial look. “I still think back to that night you first told me when I was working on my book about invisible cats.”
I grinned. “I remember that book.” It had been quite an imaginative tale, as most of Beth’s were. She already had a talent for creative writing. Her plan of study encouraged her dream, unlike mine.
“Yeah, you came creeping up on me and spouted off this story about blood and elements and Germans and some ancient tome of devilish magic. I thought you were trying to prove you could think of stories as good as mine.”
“And then I snatched your pencil and coated it with ice.” I took my glasses off and laid them atop my blankets, then wiggled my eyebrows at Beth while a veil of blue overtook my vision.
Beth shook her head at me and looked away, chewing on some popcorn. “It took me a long time to forgive my dad, you know,” she admitted, sounding rather disenchanted. “And sometimes I’m not sure whether I’ve really forgiven him. When I think about all your cousins on the Thaden side having these cool abilities I don’t, it doesn’t really sit well with me. I don’t know. I love my mom, though.”
I looked down at my small bowl of popcorn, pulling my ice back into my spirit. “Technically if you want to blame someone, you need to blame my Mutti,” I noted, reaching back to put my glasses on again. “If she hadn’t stayed with your mom’s family as an exchange student, your parents would never have met.”
Beth looked pensive, her eyes moving from mine to the window to her right with its view of the lake. “Sometimes I think I need to do the blood-transfer.” The yearning in her expression was clear, but I saw her shudder anyway.
“That’s something you definitely don’t need to do,” I informed her, wishing that I had never mentioned that topic three years ago. “What person in their right mind would want to have their arteries cut out by a priest while they’re conscious?”
“Yeah, I know,” Beth said, her eyes on the ceiling. “And it’s not like I know anybody to ask aside from you or my dad.”
“And you wouldn’t be okay with your Teuton blood costing one of our lives. That’s exactly right,” I finished for her, injecting a finality into my tone. “Being a Teuton isn’t all fun and games, anyway. My list of potential husbands is pretty much nonexistent.”
“Are you jealous about me and Joel?” Beth rose to her feet to stretch before turning for the sink to rinse out her bowl.
“Kind of,” I admitted, though the truth was more like, A load. “I don’t think he’s really my type, though. I prefer black-haired guys.”
“Like Hans,” Beth translated over the sound of running water.
I made a derisive noise. “His hair is more gray than black nowadays.”
“All right, it’s confession time,” Beth announced when she had finished with her bowl. She marched over to where I sat and plopped down right beside me. I met her gaze with a bit of uncertainty, never fully prepared to lay myself bare before anyone, outsider or not. “Are you planning on staying pure until marriage?” she asked, her wide eyes searching my own.
I felt my forehead wrinkle at her question. “If I wasn’t, pretty sure I would have taken up with one of my Pappi’s business cronies by now. Did I tell you that at his winter party last year, one of them stuck his tongue between my lips?”
“No! Oh, gross!” Beth gagged.
I smirked at her. “I bit it.”
She clapped a hand over her mouth. “You’re kidding me!”
I shrugged my left shoulder. “It was just the tip. But that guy didn’t come to our summer party, so apparently his only interest in my Pappi was to get a chance at me.” I curled my lip in repugnance at the licentious habits of the wealthy. “I may not be a perfect Christian, but I still have my standards.”
Beth grinned and wrapped her right arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a supportive hug. “Me too,” she confessed, “and Joel agrees. We want to find a good church to attend while we’re here so we don’t get sucked into the party culture. I’m here to learn, not to lose my dignity.”
I hugged her back, grateful for a roommate who shared my values. “You might want to ask Kevin about that.” I pulled away from her and got up to wash my own bowl out. “I think he said he’s studying theology.”
“Oh gosh, really? No wonder he looks like a nerd. Well, at least he shouldn’t be too much of a problem for Joel, if that’s the case. He’ll probably spend most of his time studying.”
When I finished at the sink and sat back down beside my cousin, she looked toward me lazily and repeated her earlier query. “So what wacky Teutonic magic did you learn in München over the past three years?”
I pursed my lips and considered, thinking first of the Torstein, which rested in its ring box on the shelf above my pillow between my alarm clock and box of tissues. As much as I wanted to share that secret with my cousin, something held me back for now, so instead I said, “I’ve learned a lot, probably more than I should know. Hans showed me some tricks about defending myself if someone ever tries to rob me or kidnap me. Check this out.” I stretched my right arm out in front of me and allowed my ice to creep over my hand entirely, my fingers growing transparent, the nails extending into sharp points.
Beth gaped and shied away from me. “Good grief, Swanie, you could give Wolverine a run for his money with those!”
I laughed outright, thinking of the varied elemental abilities of the X-Men. “Not really, because his claws are metal, like my cousin Traudl. She’s broken my frozen claws off before.” I flexed my icy fingers, relishing the clinking sound they made.
“Does it hurt when she breaks them off?” Beth cringed as she gawked at the clear spikes extending from my fingernails.
“It did the first time because she ripped the nail off of its bed, too. Since then she’s fought with a bit more decorum.” I chuckled.
Beth slid closer to me and lifted a finger to touch my frozen hand cautiously. “Wow, it’s cold!” she exclaimed, shivering.
“Of course it’s cold, but it doesn’t bother me.” I pulled my element back, and my hand unfroze within seconds, returning to its natural tanned color, the heat of my blood driving away the chill.
From there, I told Beth some of the other things I had read in Der Weg, and I mentioned my love for my elderly mentor, the Lady of Muniche. I talked about my Teutonic friend Vreni, whose blood status was high enough to sense her element but not to control or create it. “I feel so bad for her, but at least she managed to find a decent Teuton boyfriend. If they stay together long enough, one day he may be able to awaken her fire.”
“I can’t get over the fact that Teutons use their elements while having sex,” Beth remarked, her expression tinged with disapproval. “I mean, it would be cold getting in bed with you. You’re going to need someone with a hot element to counter you.” She paused for a beat and then spoke what I was thinking. “Is that why you’re in love with Hans? Is it because he’s fire?”
“I don’t know, and I think I’m going to get in the shower. I don’t hear the water running in there right now.” I got to my feet and headed for my dresser to retrieve a fresh pair of underwear and a towel.
“I’ll tell Joel goodnight while you’re in there. Want me to say goodnight to Kevin on your behalf?” Beth shot me a sneaky grin on her way to the side door.
“Don’t tempt him; I’d freeze him to death,” I answered, and she chortled as she struck out for the guys’ room.
In the coming months, I acclimated to both my new surroundings and my class and practice schedule. My private organ lessons quickly became my favorite class, right behind ceramics, which Beth and I had decided to take as a break from the humdrum of book learning. I had two business classes with Joel, and we sat next to each other during the lectures, commenting and making jokes about whatever happened to strike us. I was not particularly a fan of accounting, even though my math skills were decent enough. If Joel had not poked me every now and then, I would have fallen asleep during every single lecture. I had wanted to take it at noon, but by the time freshmen were allowed to register, eight o’clock was the only option left for Accounting 101. Beth got stuck taking World History 101 at that hour, which may have been worse in some ways. Luckily several of my high school classes had counted toward my history and English requirements.
By the end of October, I found myself barely able to wait for Christmas break and the chance to visit New Jersey once more. College life was not hard overall, but I looked forward to the holidays when I could enjoy more free time. The six hour time difference between Virginia and München made it difficult to coordinate a proper time to chat with Hans or any of my girlfriends, since they would generally be asleep once I finished eating dinner. I tended to catch Hans on ICQ on Friday afternoons, and on weekends I chatted regularly with Erika, who was thrilled to be delving deeper into her studies of watercolors. Most of the time, though, I ended up too busy to sign onto ICQ or the Teuton forum, or I logged on and waited for Hans in vain. I wondered sometimes whether he purposely stayed offline when I could actually be there. He probably wanted to reinforce Sebastian’s suggestion that I find a boyfriend at college.
His lack of response often frustrated me. On the last Friday in October, I signed onto the Teuton forum for the first time since Tuesday and discovered a half dozen new messages from that nineteen-year-old in Regensburg, each one more flirtatious than the last. In the final one, sent at eight-thirty a.m. German time, he wrote, “I just found out that I can get a couple of free tickets to the Christmas rock festival in Nürnberg from one of my buddies. It would be great if you could come. Then we could finally meet in person while doing something we both like.”
I shook my head in disgust and muttered a curse in Bayerisch, glad that I was alone in the room at the time. I really had no interest in meeting the boy, even if he did have decent Teuton blood. I doubted my father would be too happy if I started dating an aspiring artist—and a broke one at that. He had started dropping hints on several threads about how much he wanted to be a father, how he hoped to have both a son and a daughter someday. I thanked my lucky stars that I could give the boy a good excuse this time, and typed that I would still be in the U.S. during the holidays.
After sending the reply, I glanced down at the list of users signed on at the bottom of my computer screen and breathed a sigh of relief at the presence of Das Dunkle Feuer. I pulled up the personal messenger again and wrote a new one: “That idiot from Regensburg, Idealismus, won’t leave me alone. He just asked me out to the rock festival in Nürnberg this Christmas. I think you should ban him.” I clicked the send button and returned to checking the new posts.
Three minutes later a reply popped up. “His behavior has been better than some on the public portion of the forum, and according to Regensburg records he is ninety-one percent Teutonic. If his only fault seems to be his attraction to you, it’s your business to deal with it, not mine.”
I groaned in irritation and replied, “I’ve tried to discourage him since he started this up last February. It’s not my fault he got a crush on me because we both enjoy metal music. He’s started yammering about having kids lately, just like every other Teuton guy who thinks childbirth is easy.” I snickered to myself and hit send.
Hans’ reply popped up less than a minute later this time. “Tell him you’re married.”
He was not taking this seriously. “That won’t work. He knows I’m single. Maybe I should claim I’ve gotten a boyfriend here at school.” A wicked grin spread across my face as I considered that plan.
I had finished reading the new posts on the German history forum before a new message popped up. My gray eyes flew open and I slammed my fist down on the desk when I read this one. “Maybe you should get a boyfriend there at school.”
I seethed and typed a scathing reply. “I can’t do that, you idiot. I’m the only Teuton here. And absolutely none of the guys I’ve met so far, here or in Germany, Teuton or not, have been my type. You know that.”
I began to regret what I had said the instant after I hit send. I should not have called Hans an idiot. He was far from that. But he certainly could be obtuse at times. I sighed and finished looking through all of the new posts, waiting fifteen minutes before Hans finally responded. “Maybe if you’d deign to give some of them a chance, you’ll discover that they are your type. You need to pull the blinders from your eyes, Swanie, or you’ll be single your entire life.”
That was the last straw. I clicked the browser closed and shut my laptop, pushing the chair back so swiftly from the desk that it almost toppled over. I crossed the floor to the sink and splashed my face with cold water, then stared at myself for a long moment. The strain of schoolwork, organ practice, and guy troubles, on top of worry about the Torstein and whether or not I should use it again, had put dark lines under my eyes and set my mouth in a permanent frown.
Over the years, I had grown accustomed to pinpointing the signs of men who feigned interest in me for shallow reasons. The sons of my father’s business contacts fell into the want-money-not-partner category. Young Teuton guys—including Idealismus from Regensburg—appeared obsessed with the concept of breeding a bunch of magical children. Since our arrival at college, Beth had set me up with two guys from her classes, both of whom quickly proved wholly ignorant of their direction in life. Meanwhile, she and Joel continued to hone their relationship, studying together in the evenings and attending the football games. They were roller blading around the lake right now, in fact.
And Hans believed I ought to try my luck with some young idiot, and an outsider to boot. Why did he refuse to see what was right before his eyes—that the ice princess he had trained could not force herself to see any man but him? I shook my head and tried to smile, though I had nothing to smile at. Maybe if you’d deign to give some of them a chance, you’ll discover that they are your type.
“And why can’t you just give me a chance?!” I cried at the mirror, speaking Teutonica, my muses fixated upon the black-fired priest who relegated himself to the shadows, beyond my reach. He never would. I knew that. If only he would.