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After what happened this morning, I should probably stay away from the dining room for the rest of the day, but I’m too hungry to care. Instead, I march in, heading straight to my special table. Lissa and the other initiate, Peter, are already there, waiting, but both refuse to acknowledge me. None of the initiates ever do until Syn appears, so that’s nothing new.
Thankfully, he doesn’t have me waiting long before he and Royal come in, taking their seats like they’re sitting down on a throne. Naturally, I have to wait for Lissa and Peter to bring them their lunch. Royal’s got a sub, and even Syn’s salad has my mouth watering.
Even though watching him eat is making my stomach hurt, I stare directly into his golden eyes. If he’s going to make me sit here every day, I’m doing my best to put him off his food. Then neither of us is satisfied.
My stare is broken when Lissa drops the tray in front of me. I go to pick up my fork, but my hand hovers over the cutlery as I stare at the food in front of me.
Waffles.
Waffles, bananas, chocolate chips, a smear of something that looks like strawberry sauce, and something else that might be porridge. All of it is covered in dirt and hair.
Just like that, my appetite disappears.
“Eat it,” Lissa says.
“Hilarious.” There’s not a hint of humor in my tone.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Lissa presses a hand against her chest. “Am I giving you the impression I’m joking?”
With no warning, she lunges at me, grabs the back of my head, and pushes my face straight into the food.
I can’t breathe without inhaling the food.
And then her hand and the pressure is off the back of my head.
When I sit up, coughing and spitting the soiled food from my mouth, I find Royal with his hand wrapped around Lissa’s wrist.
“When I say stop, I mean you fucking stop.” Royal snarls at her.
I don’t know if he’s expecting me to fall at his feet for that, but a switch has been flicked, and any hint of gratitude in me is drowned by rage.
Jumping to my feet, I pick up the plastic tray and swing it towards the side of Lissa’s head. Food flies everywhere, but the tray never hits Lissa.
With lightning reflexes, Royal shoots his arm up, blocking my attack. The tray bounces off his forearm, and as he swings his arm back, he knocks it flying out of my hand.
“Did you see that?” Lissa shrieks. “She tried to kill me. She really tried to kill me.”
Royal snaps his attention on her. “I saidstop.” His voice is like ice. “Or do I need to make you?”
Lissa’s expression has gone from anger to disbelief to fear in the space of seconds. “Royal, you’re hurting me,” she whines, trying to break free of his grip.
I don’t care.
Although I’m shaking, my body is overloaded with anger and adrenaline, and I walk straight past them without looking back. I get halfway to my room before a strange buzzing in my head I hadn’t even realized was there, stops. When it does, it’s like the switch is flipped back, and the first thing I’m hit with is the smell of banana, followed by the realization that there’s waffles all over the side of my head and syrup dripping from my hair.
At the last minute, I turn my head, and throw up into the flowerless garden by the side of the path. My stomach is empty, and I’m not even throwing up more than bitter bile, but I can’t stop retching.
Finally, although my stomach hurts and my head feels full of cotton, I’m able to hurry into the nearest building. Ignoring all the looks I’m getting as the students in the corridor part to avoid me, I practically dive into a bathroom.
With taps gushing water into the basin, not caring how much it splashes over me, I scrub at my face and rinse out my mouth, trying to get the lingering smell of banana off me.
My face is red when I look at my reflection. My efforts have made my mascara run, looking like I’ve been crying. Ironic, since that’s exactly what I’ve been trying not to do. But there’s no trace of food on my face anymore.
Just as I lean forward to turn the taps off, I catch someone else’s reflection in the mirror. Whirling around, I stare at Dr. Wright. “What are you doing in here?”
Dr. Wright arches an eyebrow. “Me? You’re the one in the men’s room.”
My gaze darts to the side… and the two urinals I can now see around a corner.
