Page 72 of Stormbreaker

“What’s that?” Knox asks, his eyes narrowing. “Why are you getting a special meal?”

“No reason,” I say, scooping up the tray after a quick thank-you. Knox fills up his plate and follows me through the dining hall. I scan the room, noting a group of second-years chatting by the door. Then I spy Jackson and Sal at a table toward the back. I’d prefer to eat alone, but I know Knox will make a fuss, so I resign myself to his presence.

“What aren’t you telling me now?” Knox accuses as we sit across from Jackson and Sal.

I pick up my fork and dig into some noodles, stuffing them into my mouth.

“I just . . .”

“That’s a cadet meal,” Jackson says, peering up at me. He doesn’t say it with any judgment—just a question and maybe a touch of concern. The big blabbermouth.

“A cadet meal? Poet, tell me you didn’t,” Knox says. “Tell me you did not sign up.”

I sigh and twirl my fork through the noodles. “So what if I did?”

“Are you serious right now? You don’t think you’re already in enough trouble?”

I shrug and take another bite. “Isn’t that precisely why I shouldn’t care? It’s not like I can make my dad any angrier.”

Sal scoffs from across the table. “I think you’re underestimating Scion Graves.”

I frown, knowing he’s probably right.

“Poet—” Knox says, and I put up a hand.

“I don’t want to hear it. I’m doing this. I’ll keep up with all my other classes like I’m expected to. If I flunk out of training, then so be it; I’ll finish my general degree like my father wants.”

“And if you don’t flunk out?”

I understand he means the question to be a worst-case scenario, but I can’t help savoring a tiny thrill of satisfaction knowing he thinks I could finish.

“Then . . . we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

Knox glares at me, his jaw tight. I can see the thoughts running through his head, trying to decide how to change my mind.

“Please,” I say, hoping to appeal to some sense of his decency. I know it’s in there somewhere. I used to love him, and even if it wasn’t in a romantic way, we were friends. That little boy who wanted to protect me from my father all those years ago has to be somewhere in there. “Just let me do this. I’m not hurting anyone. I need to try.”

“To what end?” he asks, and I try not to flinch. To what end, indeed. I can never actually be a Breaker, according to him and my father, but again, I keep all thoughts of defiance to myself.

“To prove to myself I can do this.” I pause and inhale a deep breath. “And for Raine.”

It’s a dirty trick. A low blow to use my brother’s name in this way. But I know Raine would be rooting for me. I know he would approve.

Jackson makes an aww sound, and his lower lip thrusts out. “How can you say no to that?” he asks, and I think Jackson just became my favorite person in the entire universe.

“He’s right,” Sal adds. “Look at her. She just wants to honor her brother’s memory.”

I can’t believe they’re defending me. I hold my breath, afraid of sidelining whatever careful momentum they’re building on my behalf. Who would have thought Jackson and Sal would become my advocates?

“It’s not like she’s really going to make it past first year anyway,” Sal adds, and my temporary admiration deflates. He digs into his food, clearly oblivious to the fact that he’s just insulted me, but I let it go, because Knox appears to be considering his friends’ arguments.

Sure, why listen to me about my own life?

Obviously his friends’ opinions should take precedence.

“Fine,” Knox says, and I blow out a tense breath. “But we keep this between us. If Grady or my father find out . . .”

“Trust me, I have no intention of telling either of them,” I say, wondering when the hell Knox started calling my dad by his first name.