An Honor

Jack parted ways with Alex when they reached the dining hall. They both figured it would be best if Alex asked Eloise about him coming to the party without him looking over their shoulders. On the weekends the tables were only waited at assigned meal times, but there was a table with pastries, fruit, and fixings to make tea that was pretty regularly maintained. Alex spotted Eloise almost immediately, since there were so few students in there. Unfortunately, most of the ones that were there were all sitting with her at their usual table. They were all scholarship students, and among the food on their table were also open books, notebooks, and worksheets. Alex realized they were all kids in his year, come together in a big study group. At the center was Matthew Montoya, who almost looked like a professor answering others' questions or checking papers they showed him.

Alex was hoping to catch Eloise's eye from a distance, but she looked pretty focused on her work. Alex walked over to the tea table, stalling as he tried to work up the courage to just go talk to Eloise. He was picking at the peel of a tangerine, getting called a coward by the voice in his head he had decided to call AJ, when he was interrupted by a familiar voice behind him.

"My tea wasn't that bad, was it?"

Alex jumped from the shock of being broken out of his self-deprecating thoughts. He fumbled with his fruit until it inevitably bounced back on to the table, squashing a couple muffins on its way.

"No, no, "Alex said, spinning around to face Eloise. His panic subsided a little when he saw she was smiling. He picked up the half-filled mug he had placed next to the bowl of fruit and showed her the contents. "It was good, I promise. Jack made me spill most of it, but I liked it."

"Here, then," Eloise said, taking the mug. "I'll make you a fresh cup."

"No, you don't have to-"

"I want to. If you want to drink it."

". . . Sure. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Eloise put the tepid tea mug in the dirty dishes tub and grabbed a clean one. She gestured to the tins of leaves on the table. "Got a preference?"

"The rose black is pretty good."

Eloise scrunched her nose, but picked up the tin anyways. "I'll bet you like rose sweets too, huh?"

"Sometimes. My dad used to make some mithai kind. I, uh, forget what they were called. Little squares with pistachios."

"Barfi," Eloise guessed.

"Yeah, that was it."

"My mum makes the best walnut barfi. She's made rose pista barfi too, but I'm not an animal who like their sweets to taste like soap. Course, what else should I expect, from Mr. Pickled Onion Monster Munch?"

Alex surprised himself with a chuckle, but made the mistake of glancing back at Eloise's table. A good number of them were now staring at them, including Matthew Montoya.

"They're working on the Chemistry assignments," Eloise explained as she measured out tea leaves in a strainer. "And we heard a rumor that Carlisle and Baxter are going to give out quizzes on Monday. Matthew is a bit of a science wiz, so he volunteered to get us all up to snuff. I think he has a grand vision of blinding our professors with our brilliance."

"I hope you do."

"Do you think we can?"

"Carlilse, maybe. Baxter might think you'd cheated if you all do well."

"You know, I think that's the thing that's really wearing me down more than I expected. Why do even most of the professors seem to not want us here?"

"I think it's an ego thing. They liked feeling special, I guess. I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I just hope they get better at hiding the disdain. You any good at chemistry?"

"Not good enough to tutor, if that's what you're wondering. Sorry."

"No need to apologize, Alex. Farrow said you'd been in language lessons all day anyways. I'm sure you've earned a break."

"Can I ask, about Jack-"

"Lord, if that boy sent you to ask me out on his behalf-"

"No, no. I was just wondering if you'd warmed up to him. It's been a bit hard to tell. I mean, you seem like you get on when you talk before class starts, but then you send him away. Do you not like him? I mean, as a person. Not 'like' like, well, you know."

"I haven't made up my mind yet, to be honest. Though I'd be lying if I said I didn't like the attention." Eloise paused and grabbed a sugar spoon, holding it up to Alex's face with a weapon. "Do not tell him I said that," she warned.

"Got it," Alex said, putting his hands up in a sign of surrender. "Swear."

"Why do you ask? He ask you to be a gauge for him or something?"

"No. I actually asked him to do something for me, but he wanted to make sure it was okay with you."

"What would Jonathan Farrow need my permission for?"

"Your party. Tonight. I asked him to come with me. But he didn't want to turn up uninvited. So, can he come?"

"Farrow wants to come to my glorified games night?"

"Well, he wants me to go. And I think I would get too scared if I didn't have someone pushing me along."

"You don't need to force yourself, Alex. I said I wouldn't be offended."

"The thing is I really want to. I just think- Well, I think too much. I would think myself out of going if left on my own."

"And Farrow won't miss out on the big haunted chapel jubilee?"

"He's been taking a very heightened interest in my social life this past week, so he's willing to skip it if it means I live less like a hermit."

Eloise hummed in contemplation, reaching for the water from the kettle on top of an electric heating coil. Without saying anything she carefully poured the water over the leaves. "My dad always goes on about water temperature when making tea. I'm sure he knows what he's talking about, since his tea is always the best, but whenever I make it, I can't tell the difference." She picked up the leaf tin to check the brewing times, then set the little timer left on the table. "Alex, if your family members make up the wardens, the Farrows own the prison. You know?"

"I do. I'm sorry, I-"

"But Jonathan isn't exactly what I expected from a Farrow. Just like how you're not what I expected from a Conrad. So, I guess I've not got a problem with it. Can't guarantee no else will. I'll try to prepare them beforehand. And if anyone like Matthew complains I'll take the blame."

"Really? You're sure?"

"You trying to talk me out of it now?"

"No, no, I- Thank you, Ellie. Thanks a lot."

"I've told everyone it starts at seven, so it'll probably be well on its way by nine. In case you were the fashionably late kind."

"Right. I'll be there. Thank you."

Eloise giggled and poked Alex's shoulder. "Quit acting like it's such an honor, you'll give me a big head."

"It is an honor, though. That you trust us. I know you've every reason not to."

"Hm, I trust you. Jury's still out on Farrow."

"An even bigger honor then."

Eloise shook her head and smiled, and the two of them waited in comfortable silence until the timer went off. "I'll let you sort the cream and sugar on your own," she said, handing him the containers and the spoon she had threatened him with earlier. "And Baptiste should be buying your cursed crisps as we speak."

"Have you ever actually tried them?"

"I dated a boy in year 8 who ate them all the time. Snogging was torture. Almost put me off men entirely."

"Maybe you're just being harsh because of unresolved issues with your ex."

"Maybe. Maybe I'll give pickled onion boys another shot."

Eloise walked off before Alex could register the slightly flirtatious tone of her voice, and she was already sitting down with her friends by the time Alex realized he didn't know how he felt about that.

Alex drank his freshly brewed tea a little more quickly than he probably should have. Eloise must have picked up some things form her dad because it tasted fantastic. He put the empty mug in the dirty bin and headed out. When he got to the dorm, he popped up to Jack's flat to tell him Eloise had said yes, much to Jack's surprise.

"This girl must really like you," Jack joked.

"Maybe it's you she likes," Alex said, not wanting to dwell on that thought too much. He couldn't figure out why the joke made him so agitated, and for once little AJ wasn't helping him out with a snarky observation. He was just as clueless as Alex Senior this time.

"I think she just likes to mess with me."

"She drew you yesterday, in art. Instead of sketching the fruit."

"Yeah? Did I look good?"

"Very. She's very talented."

"Or maybe I'm just that handsome of a subject."

"And maybe that's why she doesn't want to tell you she's interested. You're already conceited enough."

"Confident, Al," Jack corrected. "It's called confidence."

"Uh-huh."

"What are you going to wear?"

Alex glanced down at what he was already wearing, a plain dark blue t-shirt and jeans. "This...?" He started it as a statement, but Jack's disapproving look made him turn it up in to a question.

"I think you can manage better than that Al, unless you wanna be kicked out of your little love quad."

"That's not- Never mind, you don't actually care."

"Hey, I'm not judging by the way. I think it's great that you've racked up two and a half lovers in a week after being chronically single your whole life."

"Half?"

"I know Montoya hates your guts but I swear I sensed some sexual tension during those soccer drills, you know?"

"I do not." Alex said, but the way his body heated up told a different story. "And I know you have to go out of your way to not call it football, by the way."

"I'm sorry, are you trying to mock me for fighting assimilation and holding on to the roots of my native New York culture?"

"You were born in Florence."

"Only because my mom was on ho- vacation. I'm American god dammit."

"Sure thing, Captain Yankee."

"Anyways, you need to find something more decent than that in your closet. At least change your shirt." Jack looked down at Alex's ratty trainers. "Are those the ones you use for gym?"

"I've only got these and my school shoes."

"You are so bad at being a rich kid, dude." Jack glanced at the clunky watch he had on, a knockoff of a luxury brand that Miranda had given him as a joke gift. "Yeah, we got time. Come on, I'm taking you shopping."

"That seems excessive. Wouldn't it be best to dress humbly in this case?"

"There's a difference between humility and shabby, my friend. I know a thrift store in Brighton, nothing flashy. You gotta make sure they can tell you didn't just roll out of bed."

"I don't know."

"I'll buy you a milkshake from that burger joint you like."

"... And chips?"

"Deal."