Page 31 of Stormbreaker

“I’m serious, Poet. You could fuck up everything.”

Another bell rings in the hall, and now we’re late for class.

“Knox, I have to go,” I say with a shaky breath.

I attempt to slide out from under his arm, where his hand is pressed to the wall, my body squeezed against his. I hold my breath, trying to create some distance. I don’t want to touch him, and I certainly don’t want him following me around everywhere I go. This wasn’t the plan. I was supposed to get a break. Some space from him and my father.

His jaw clenches, and a flash of rage passes through his eyes. In moments like these, he reminds me of my father so much that I find it hard to breathe. So I manage to step away, adjust my bag on my shoulder, and consult my school app for my classroom location before I leave without saying a word. A moment later, I hear Knox following close behind.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” I say, still looking at my screen. “I can’t get into any trouble during class.”

He scoffs as he trails me to the lab, where I have my first biology class this morning. We reach the partly open door, and I whirl around to face him.

“I’m here, okay? See, no trouble.”

He narrows his eyes as the professor’s baritone floats out the door.

“You’ll wait here after class until I pick you up,” Knox says.

“Absolutely not. I’ll go straight to my room. You’re not following me everywhere.”

“Poet—”

The door to the classroom swings open, and a professor stands in the doorway bearing the crest of House Asale on his chest. He’s taller than Knox and fills out his Amery uniform with a solid frame. Dark hair falls over his eyes, and one might consider him handsome in a classical way if he didn’t have the meanest sneer on his face.

“Are you supposed to be in this class?” he asks. “Or are you planning to stand out here interrupting my entire lecture?”

“Just her,” Knox says, gesturing to me.

“And where are you supposed to be?” the professor asks Knox, looking down his nose.

Knox shrugs. “Another class.”

“Then I suggest you make your way there, given that you are already late.”

Knox rolls his eyes and addresses me. “Wait. Here,” he repeats before walking off.

The professor pauses before he steps aside and gestures for me to enter.

“Sorry,” I mumble as I pass. Everyone watches as the professor picks up a ledger from his desk.

“Can I presume you are Poet Graves?” he asks with that same condescending tone.

“Yes, sir,” I say.

“I don’t tolerate tardiness in my classes,” he answers. “Being a scion’s daughter does not grant you special privileges in this room.”

“Sorry,” I repeat. “It won’t happen again.”

“See that it does not. Now take a seat. There’s an empty one at the back.”

The room is divided into a series of tables, each with two stools. They’re all filled except for the last seat in the corner. My hands tighten on the strap of my bag when my gaze meets Rook’s. Of course he’s the only one without a partner.

I nod and make my way over, sliding onto the stool and studiously avoiding eye contact.

Rook snorts as I open my bag, pull out my tablet, and face the front.

During it all, everyone watches me, some more obviously than others.