“Shut up. Listen to me rookie, just because we are roommates, doesn’t mean we are friends.” She snapped. “Stay out of my business.”
“Of course not.” I murmured. “I’m sorry.”
She looked me up and down, rolled her eyes. “Come on.”
We took our trays to an empty table and sat. Jess immediately started shovelling food into her mouth like she hadn’t eaten in days.
It was some kind of potato sludge and something pretending to be stew, plus a rock-hard roll of bread.
I picked up my fork and began to eat, keeping my eyes on the room instead of the food.
There were fewer people than I expected—maybe a hundred students total—and the divisions were obvious. Groups huddled in tight circles, each one orbiting its own hierarchy.
Lyra sat nearby on her table of clones. When her gaze met mine, her smile dropped. The glare she gave me could’ve cut glass.
I looked down again.
“So what’s your story?” Jess asked through a mouthful of food. “What did you do to get in here?”
“I thought we weren’t going to be friends,” I said quietly.
“I still need to know if you’re gonna go allMiseryon me in the middle of the night.”
“Stephen King, huh?”
“I like horror stories. So what.” She gave me a sharp look. “So?”
I shifted uncomfortably.
“I was out. Some people got hurt. That’s it.”
Jess looked at me like she didn’t buy a single word.
“Right. And you were just an innocent bystander in all that, huh?”
I met her eyes.
“Maybe I was.”
Jess almost smiled.
“Right. Well, whatever you did, you’re in shitty company.”
“And what about you?” I asked, just as softly.
Jess sat back, staring me dead in the eyes.
“Attempted murder. But don’t worry. They deserved it.”
Something in the way she said it—the slight tremor under her words—made me doubt her bravado.
Which is exactly why I didn’t fear her.
“I believe you,” I said simply.
Jess startled, like she hadn’t expected that.
But she didn’t understand.
