Chapter 9: History
Corrie did not pay much attention in her history class. She was distracted partly by the conversation she had had immediately before it, and partly by the professor himself. It wasn’t that he was interesting, or attractive, or any of those things. Not by himself, anyway. It was that they’d found a picture of him in an old yearbook, and he had looked exactly the same as he did now. That was almost as good as proof that he was a faerie.
The four-leaf clover she carried, which worked so well against other faeries’ glamours, didn’t seem to have any effect on him. She didn’t know enough about faeries to know whether he had a really good glamour or just happened to look like an old man. She probably never would know enough.
She also found herself acknowledging that it only made sense to think that the man who had accosted her and Dawn on Saturday night was what he said he was: her father and a werewolf. There was nothing that lying could have gained him, and it was at least better than another stalker. She’d seen Paul, the stalker she already had, around campus a few times in recent weeks. The spell that kept him twenty feet away from her still seemed to be in force, but that didn’t stop him from watching her.
Still, it was very uncomfortable to think that the father she’d never known had suddenly found her and taken an interest in her, not to mention that she apparently had some non-human blood. She couldn’t—
She nearly jumped out of her seat, looking up at Professor Drehmer. He’d evidently caught her daydreaming, gazing off into space as she doodled spirals in her notebook (quite a few, she now saw out of the corner of her eye). And now he was looking at her expectantly. He must have asked her a question. Well, she’d better say something. “Sorry, Professor Drehmer, I didn’t quite catch that…”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Perhaps someone else can explain to Corrie what the text has to say about the factors leading to a Union victory at Gettysburg.”
Several hands went up, and Professor Drehmer chose someone near the front. Corrie sat back in her seat with relief. She might be in a bit of trouble, but least she didn’t have to answer the question. Which was good, since she couldn’t remember what the text said on that point. She listened carefully to what the other student said and jotted down notes.
Professor Drehmer nodded when he was done. “Thank you, Jason. Unfortunately, this is a point at which our textbook is not perfect. I am certain you will all forgive me for correcting its misconceptions in lecture, rather than giving you an additional text to read. The key difference is…”
Corrie scowled at her notes and crossed out everything she had just written with a vehement, dark line. Then she turned her attention to what the professor was actually saying.
When the class was over, she packed up slowly, nervous that the professor was going to ask her to stay after and talk to him—but not so nervous that she was going to try to escape. She faced up to her mistakes. However, it did not seem that Professor Drehmer was as strict on this point as Professor Lal—he had already left the classroom by the time she was packed up. Then again, if she didn’t have a good grasp on magical theory, she could probably hurt somebody; all not having a good grasp on history would do was make her do poorly on tests.
Since she had a couple of hours before it was time for dinner, she determined to make up for her apparent lack of knowledge about the Civil War itself to make her essay on the causes of the Civil War as good as possible. Once she got back to her room, she focused on that and didn’t really look up until Dawn and Naomi knocked on their door for dinner.
She and Edie got up to join them in the hallway. Dawn grinned at her. “Call your mom yet?”
Corrie sighed and rolled her eyes at Dawn’s persistence, but she was smiling too. “Not yet. Probably after dinner, before the Rainbow Alliance meeting.”
“Why do you have to call your mom?” Naomi asked as they walked.
“I call her every day,” Corrie said. “Dawn just thinks I need to be reminded, apparently.”
“It doesn’t hurt,” Dawn said with a shrug.
“I think if Corrie was going to forget she would have done it already!” Edie said. “And you haven’t, have you?”
Corrie shook her head. “The only day I haven’t called her since I arrived on campus is last Saturday, when she was here.”
Rico and Duncan also joined them for dinner, which turned out to be surprisingly delicious—in honor of this chilly day, apparently, the cooks had made a big vat of alphabet soup. Corrie had two bowls. It started to drizzle while they were eating, and unprepared, they all ran back to Gilkey with their arms over their heads. It wasn’t until they were halfway up the stairs that Corrie realized Edie was no longer with them.