Steelhands - Jaida Jones [105]
I had to think about how to answer him since I’d already proved my on-the-spot tactics needed a little polishing. Now that I’d come all the way up there and I was sitting in Adamo’s office with its sensible leather chairs and good, hard lighting, I didn’t know how to start saying what I needed to say. Even Toverre didn’t really believe me about those voices, though I couldn’t much blame him for that. That kind of madness was for madmen; some of the beggars Da chased out of our barn in the winter were always yammering on to people who weren’t there.
Maybe you were only crazy once you started talking back, but either way I really didn’t want to find out.
At the same time, I wasn’t the sort to weasel out of something when I could face it head-on, and I didn’t want the professor to think I was some delicate winter blossom who couldn’t stomach the idea of a physician’s visit.
I didn’t know how, but it seemed like I’d done something to earn Adamo’s good opinion, and I didn’t want to up and prove him wrong.
“Just … a lot of things been getting under my skin lately,” I said, still working out how much I wanted to say, and how much I wanted to keep a lid on. “Guess I don’t have so many people here in Thremedon I can talk to. And I know none of that’s your problem, so I guess you can kick me out if you want—except when I came in, you were just sitting here by yourself not doing anything. So it seems to me like you must not have that many people to talk to either.”
“Did that start out as an apology before it came around to insulting me at the end, there?” Adamo asked.
“Maybe,” I said, realizing that was what it must’ve sounded like. “But I’m pretty sure I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Doesn’t make all that much difference,” Adamo said, and just like that I knew he wasn’t mad at me. That was a relief. For some reason, the idea made me even more uncomfortable than the idea of sitting crosswise from a dragon as it breathed steam at you. “Shouldn’t punish someone when they’re right, should you?”
“Just helps me think, having someone to talk to,” I said, easing back into the chair again. At least he hadn’t kicked me out, but I didn’t need Toverre around to tell me I was being impertinent.
“It’s Laurence, right?” Adamo asked.
“Laure’s fine,” I told him. I figured if I’d come to him to talk about my problems, then I could let him be a little more familiar.
“All right, then, Laure,” Adamo said, looking the way he did right before he stood up to make a big speech in class. “I’m not gonna pretend that I’m the kind of professor who sits around after lecture just waiting for students to come to me with their troubles, though. Most times I don’t even know what to do with my own troubles ’cept for make them worse. On top of that, I don’t have a lot of what you might call patience for the things these kids consider real trouble, anyway. Do you see what I’m saying? It all adds up to this: I don’t like being asked too many questions, and I’m a piss-poor candidate for a mentor.”
“So you’re crap with advice,” I said, once he’d finished. “That’s all right. I never said I wanted someone to tell me what to do, just someone to listen when I open my mouth, that’s all.”
Adamo blinked, looking like I’d cut the wind straight out of his sails. He’d been expecting one thing, and I’d gone and given him another.
“Well, fine,” he muttered. “So long as you’re forewarned.”
“Think my da’d lock me up in the stables if he knew I was bothering someone like you with my problems, anyway,” I told him. “So I won’t trouble you for too much longer. I think I’ve already decided what I want to do for now—see? Just talking things through with somebody listening really can help.”
Even though I hadn’t told Adamo about half the stuff I’d wanted to, I wasn’t lying when I said I felt more confident about my prospects—rambling on had given me time to clear my head and put all my thoughts in order. I’d told Toverre I couldn’t put off the appointment, but I was starting to wonder what exactly might happen if I