Page 47 of Stormbreaker

“I wasn’t, I—” I sputter, then cut myself off. “I know that.”

“Then enjoy your lunch,” he says.

“Enjoy your . . . standing.”

“Will do.”

I hate that I’m such a messy tangle while he remains entirely unaffected.

By me. By anything at all.

So the only thing I can do is glare before I walk away. I refuse to let him see how much he rattles me.

When he starts whistling, I peer over my shoulder to find him casually leaning against the wall with his arms folded while he stares up at seemingly nothing.

I take one last look and then force myself to turn away.

It’s only a moment later that I realize I’m smiling.

Why does that scare me so much?

16

I manage to spend the weekend avoiding Knox, sequestered with Trinity and Edward in the med wing, where we do our best to cheer her up without much success. It’s also a reprieve from the constant looks and questions about my own botched initiation. Silver and Hazel come to visit, and though they try to act normal for her sake, I can tell they’re uncomfortable. I understand why. They’re worried for Trin, of course, but being associated with either of us risks their reputation with Fiama now. It’s our friendship up against their family legacy . . . Still, I won’t pretend that it doesn’t hurt.

But I must eat eventually, and Knox finds me in the cafeteria on Monday at lunch. He drops into the seat next to me without being asked. “Why am I hearing rumors that you’re hanging out with the scat?”

“I’m not hanging out with him,” I say. “And don’t use that word. It’s vile. He happened to be nearby when Trinity fainted, and he carried her to the med wing. He was actually really helpful.”

I recall my conversation with Rook when I found him outside the med wing the other day. He claimed he was just standing there, but I can’t shake the feeling that he was waiting for me. Which is ridiculous. Why would he do that?

“You let him touch her?” Knox asks with obvious horror.

I give him a disgusted look. “What do you care? You didn’t even ask if she’s okay. Or me, for that matter.”

Knox rolls his eyes, picking up his fork and shoveling potato salad into his mouth as Jackson and Sal sit across from us with their lunch trays.

“Hi,” Jackson says, his gaze darting between us.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he says, raising his hands in surrender.

“You clearly have something to say.”

He shrugs as he picks up his mug and sips his coffee. “You sure give us a lot to talk about these days.”

“Jackson,” Knox says, a warning in his tone.

“I’m not trying to give her a hard time. Poet, I’m not. I’m just worried about you.”

Sometimes Jackson is very good at sticking his foot in his mouth, but his heart is in the right place.

“I’m okay,” I say.

He gives me a knowing look before he glares at Knox.

We’re interrupted by the arrival of Winter and Lacey, both of whom I’ve been avoiding like the plague. Knox made good on his word to have my room cleaned up and new uniforms delivered. I also suspect he said something to the girls, because they’ve gone from openly hostile to pretending I don’t exist at all, which is perfect. I welcome that. Hopefully, we can keep this up for the next three years.