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Which means I can leave my last class, run across campus to change, and then make it to the dining hall before they do.
But on the flip side, the one and only class the three of them share is the same one that Dr. Wright teaches. And not only do I have the utter joy of looking forward to being trapped in a room with all four of them at the same time, twice a week, it’s their first class of the day.
And if Syn decides he’s having his breakfast at the last minute—which feels like something he’ll decide to do the moment he hears about this job—I have no chance of making it across the campus and turning up to the class on time.
This time, at dinner, Syn is joined by Gemini. Syn is wearing his uniform like a model, and Gemini has a hoodie on under his blazer. Despite being inside, his hood is up, and his attention is on his phone.
I pour them some water but linger at the side until Syn lets out a dramatic sigh and turns to look at me.
“What?”
“Will Royal be coming, sir?”
“One look at you in that outfit, and probably,” Gemini says without looking up from his phone.
I choose not to respond and wait for Syn to answer.
“Basketball training.”
Before I can ask whether that means yes, no, or later, and if I need to wait for him, Gemini raises his head. “A cheerleading outfit. Think about it, this college doesn’t have a cheerleading squad, and Royal should have a cheerleader. Tori would look great shaking those pom poms.”
“Oh, fuck no,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
Like a lot of little girls, I did dance when I was a kid. But it was only ever one of those activities where my mom insisted that I go because all the other moms were sending their daughters. The novelty of me in cute dresses and pigtails wore off after a year, and although I didn’t hate it, it wasn’t anything I had any interest in continuing.
I wasn’t sure what Gemini had in mind when he was thinking of a cheerleader, but this wasn’t something you could just sign up to. The cheerleaders in my school all, at a minimum, had to be able to dance, and even then, they were after gymnasts. I hadn’t done a cartwheel since I was in middle school.
Putting aside the fact that this college apparently didn’t have a cheer team already and I’d have to do it solo, when the hell was I going to find time to learn a routine?
Thankfully, the look Syn is giving Gemini tells me he thinks it’s the most utterly ridiculous idea too.
“If you want her shaking her pom poms at you in your bedroom, do so. Buy some fucking tassels for all I care. But in public, we will not have anyone with the grace of a newborn deer with three left feet representing the Elite, never mind the fucking college.”
Gemini lets out a noise somewhere between a moan and a whine, before he pulls his hood down. As his long, dark hair spills forward into his face, he turns and looks at me, his attention on my chest. “Tassels?”
The conversation was loud enough for me to hear, but thankfully, not quite loud enough for the nearby tables to catch what was said. Regardless, there are a lot of eyes on me, and also, on Gemini and what he’s staring at.
“Spinach and ricotta cannelloni, fillet mignon, or seabass chraime,” I say, quickly.
My efforts distract Gemini, and I’m able to get through the rest of their meal without any further incident. As Syn stands to leave, I gently clear my throat.
He stops but doesn’t look at me. “What?”
“What about Royal?”
Instead of answering, he walks away.
Asshole.
I end up waiting until ten minutes before the end of service before I decide he’s not coming and go to grab a portion of the cannelloni. A whole evening wasted.
When I get ready to leave, not only is it now dark, but it’s also raining. The paths in the center of campus, especially around the quad and the administration buildings, also have covered walkways, but after that, the only shelter comes from the trees.
I’m wet and shivering by the time I make it to Denali House, and stepping inside through the back door into the warmth makes my skin feel like it’s on fire. For a few moments, I stand near a heating vent. I’m not in the mood to have a shower with Syn watching me, but I feel like I’m not going to get warm without one.
Still wet, I walk through the house, looking for Syn. He’s not on the ground floor, and after quickly checking the basement in case he’s using the gym, I head back up to the foot of the main staircase.
The initial warmth I felt when I walked in has worn off, and while I’m not completely drenched, my wet clothes icy and keep clinging to my skin. At this point, if Syn wants to call all the other members of the Elite here to watch me shower, he can.
