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They get to look innocent, the gremlins get to prove their loyalty, and I get to suffer death by a hundred cuts.
When I look at the door to the dining hall to see if anyone managed to witness this bonus humiliation, only Finlay remains. He’s standing there, static, watching the scene play out with an unreadable expression. His gaze is shuttered but there’s a sullen smile at the corner of his mouth as he looks at the mess I’m in. And then he turns his back on me, like he can’t bear to watch me any longer, and goes into the hall with the others.
The door slams shut.
I don’t get breakfast. In fact, the morning passes by in a blur. I sweep up the leaves before Baxter can see them, picking leaves off the porridge on the statue. I’m paranoid I have leaves and twigs stuck in my hair, but looking at my tired reflection in the unicorn’s muscular hind legs shows that I almost pull off appearing presentable.
Students come in and out of the hall just to laugh at me scooping wet porridge into a bucket. I ignore them, though it’s becoming more difficult. But I know fighting back will just mean I get punishedworse, so I say nothing. I’ve learned that the value of silence is self-preservation.
I say nothing to Rory, Luke and Finlay as they pass, laughing and joking among themselves. I note that Finlay doesn’t laugh as much as the others, and part of me seizes on that observation like the drowning kitten I guess I am. He keeps glancing back at me like he wants to say something directly. But I can’t trust him around Luke and Rory so I pretend not to notice his hesitation.
Screw the whole freaking lot of them.
Eventually the hall quietens after the bell for class, and I’m able to work in peace without the threat of further taunts. There’s no way I’m cleaning this stupid statue for hours like I did, pointlessly, last night. So I do the best I can, polishing and buffing it with the remainder of the strength in my arms, not caring if there are any fine streaks on the lion’s angled back.
The bell for the second class of the morning rings when I’m just about finishing up. I clear away all my equipment and take a step back, admiring my handiwork.
Not bad for a gal with aching arms on a few hours’ sleep.
I’m still nervous, however, that one of the gremlins might decide to try their luck and attack it again. They have a habit of that.
Still, I have class to attend. A class that I’m pretty sure I’m failing.
I pack up my things and head there.
