For the most part, things calmed down for Tawny.

Maddie was back at her side the next day at school, and yet Tawny kept her eyes cast downward.

She was still wounded by the events in the gym, and though she knew it wasn't Maddie's fault, she was feeling resentful that she was essentially thrown to the wolves.

Nevertheless, they still went to classes together, and Tawny tried her hardest to be civil despite her wounded feelings.

What finally allowed her to come around was the knowledge that she DID have something to look forward to with her time at Ivoree Gates.

Tawny had lovely dreams as she slept in the white collared shirt she received from Professor McCurdy's home. It was through his act of kindness that convinced her there was some good in the world.

And even if that good seemed just as disgustingly rich as the rest of the people at the school, at least McCurdy's company was something she could welcome instead of revile.

"Yoo-hoo, Earth to Tawny..." Maddie waved her hand in front of her friend's face as they sat across from each other during lunch. "Are you okay? It's like you're in another world?"

"Hmm?" Reluctantly, Tawny tore herself away from her thoughts and gave Maddie a dreamy grin.

Maddie frowned. "Uh-oh...I know that look. You've got it for someone. Deep."

"I think they would call that Stockholm Syndrome," remarked Tawny. "How could I fall for someone who torments me on a daily basis?"

"It just takes that right bit of alchemy," said Maddie. "A look. A gesture. A wink. A smell."

A smell. Tawny was immediately transported back to her bed, when she was immersed in thoughts of the spice and sandalwood once more. In spite of herself, she felt her cheeks growing hot. Was she really developing a crush? Did she really have it bad for...?

"Dylan!"

"What?" Tawny snapped out of her reverie just as Dylan slammed his lunch tray beside Maddie. Maddie scowled, but Dylan ignored her as if she wasn't there; his eyes were fixed intently on Tawny.

"I need to talk to you," he said. "NOW."

"I'm eating," Tawny said.

"Yeah, she's eating," repeated Maddie.

"Have another bread roll, why don't you?" Dylan said, glancing briefly at Maddie.

Maddie stood up, balling her fists.

"Wait," said Tawny, also standing up. "I'll go. Five minutes."

"Whatever," said Dylan. They left the cafeteria together and walked until they made it to a deserted hallway.

It was midday; light from the windows on the wall splashed into the hallway, against the lockers and Dylan and Tawny, washing them all in bars of shadows.

In that moment, Tawny somehow felt like a prisoner.

"I owe you an apology," said Dylan.

"Yes, you do," said Tawny.

"Obviously, we got off on the wrong foot. Truth is, I'm not such a bad guy. Once you get to know me."

Reflexively, he ran his hand through his dark hair and looked at Tawny with repentant, cerulean eyes.

In that brief moment Tawny actually believed what he said...

She then straightened up and acted formal. "Is that it, Mr. Westinghouse?"

"Uh, no..." said Dylan, looking down on the floor. "We need to discuss the project for McCurdy's class. I hear he's a hard-ass at marking. I figure we should give ourselves the best chance at success."

"So what are you proposing?" asked Tawny. She had to admit: she did not expect the conversation to go like this.

"I think we should do The Prince and the Pauper for our project," said Dylan.

Tawny raised an eyebrow and snorted.

Dylan narrowed his eyes. "What's so funny?"

"Uh...that's not English Literature," said Tawny.

"What are you talking about? Of course it is!" argued Dyan. "There's castles and royalty and everything. How does that not take place in England?"

"It was written by Mark Twain," said Tawny. "The same guy who wrote Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. He's American - everyone knows that."

"Well, I didn't...dammit!" said Dylan, kicking a locker in frustration.

"We can always do a different book," said Tawny. "There's Emma, or Wuthering Heights, or..."

"I've already read half of The Prince and the Pauper," said Dylan. "I don't want to have to start another book."

"Oh," said Tawny, looking down. She felt guilty for mocking Dylan's lack of literary knowledge.

She felt compelled to help, especially since they were not barking down each other's throats for once. "Maybe we can appeal to Professor McCurdy and he'll let us do your choice anyway."

Dylan snapped his fingers. "Good idea. Pretty sure he's in his office during lunchtime. Let's go see him now."

Before Tawny could protest, Dylan grabbed her by the hand and barrelled down the hall to meet with Professor McCurdy.