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Florence and I looked at each other surprisingly seriously for a second, then both laughed.
“Okay, nympho,” she teased lovingly. “Good to know where we stand.”
I nodded. “It is, isn’t it?”
She gave me a wide grin. “It seems I rubbed off on you.”
“Yeah, you’re not the one that rubbed off on me,” I told her cheekily.
“Valen is a very good colour on you,” she commented.
“Yeah?” I asked as I got up and pulled out a book to start on my homework.
“Yeah,” she said. “Very good. You’re so much less...”
“Not sure that’s a compliment,” I told her when she didn’t elaborate.
“Much less resigned.”
“Leas resigned than what?” I asked. “To what?”
“Your fate.”
I looked at her sceptically. “I’m still very much resigned to my fate.”
“True,” she conceded. “But you’ve also been absolutelyhadby Saint Benedict’s most infamous walking wet dream.”
“I thought you weren’t interested in him?” I sassed.
“Oddly, that doesn’t stop him being the most wanted man on campus.”
“I thought that was Apollo?”
Florence scoffed. “Oh, please. We go home to men like Apollo...right after we’ve been hammered by guys like Valen.”
“This is your Beast and Gaston argument all over again, isn’t it?”
“What?” she asked as she came over to our desks. “Am I wrong? You get Gaston to pleasure you until you can barely standthengo home to Adam. Beast can get in on that Gaston action as far as I’m concerned.”
I laughed. “Is that your way of saying something?”
Florence’s hand went to her mouth and she chuckled. “Oh, yeah. Apollo was Adam last night.”
I nodded at her pointedly.
She chortled to herself. “Mayhap it is foreshadowing?”
“Foreshadowing what?”
She shrugged and tapped the side of her nose. “Your future, Miss Vanguard.”
For a moment – one, single panicked moment – I worried she was right. Then, I remembered this was Florence Walton. She didn’t have powers of foresight and, while she might have known who liked who and whether it was more than sex, there was nothing more between me and Valen than just sex.
After her grand declaration, Florence went on with her homework and I failed to get on with mine. At least, I didn’t tap my pen incessantly on my books this time, so she had no idea that I was trying hard not to stress about whatever situation I’d found myself in.
Chapter Fifteen
“Claudio is an idiot,” Florence called from the bathroom.
