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I looked down at my olive-green tank top and ripped jeans and shrugged. It would have to do. I had put on some black leather flats instead of opting for my flip-flops. I tried.
“Let’s go grab breakfast from the cart. That’s all we have time for.”
At this point, I was just going through the motions. I was dead tired. I didn’t understand half of the shit these people were talking about. And my parents either weren’t taking my calls or had decided in my absence to go to Hawaii or some other place.
Seriously, they were the ones who sent me here, and now they conveniently wouldn’t answer the phone to explain themselves.
As we walked down the stairs and toward the cart Alara had mentioned, she spent her time texting and giggling intermittently. I fished my schedule from my bag and held the index-card-sized paper up to her. “I forgot to ask you yesterday, do we have any classes together?”
The card with my classes were on my desk the night before right next to a silver tray that held our dinner. I’d been so starving that after eating, I showered and fell asleep.
Well, I tried to sleep.
“Um…” She put her phone in her back pocket and read it over while she walked. Her hair was up in a twisted, crazy bun on the top of her head where a cream velvet scrunchie somehow held the whole thing in place. “We have Protection Magic together. It’s the last class of the day. I took a bunch of these classes you have already, pre-admission. My parents thought it would give me a jump academically. Oh, I hope they have peri-berry muffins. Those are absolutely divine.”
“What the peri-berries?”
She laughed and ordered two despite my question, all the while ignoring me. She handed me one in a white paper bag before pointing me toward a building that stood alone, away from the others. It was newer than the rest but still held its own wooden renaissance flair. The windows were open and, from what I could see, the others were all seated already.
“Crap. I’m late.”
I took off at a sprint and was grateful for my footwear choice. I stuffed the muffin into my bag even though my intrigue about a peri-berry was almost too much to handle.
I twisted the bronze door handle and walked in.
“Madam, you are late. Take your seat and apologize to the class for interrupting.”
Aww, perfect. First day and already apologizing.
“I’m sorry.” My apology got some giggles and grunts but, for the most part, I was ignored. I took the empty seat, which was way in the back, and settled in, pulling a notebook from my bag and clicking my magenta-inked pen.
I was determined to not be the biggest idiot in this school.
That meant I had a whole hell of a lot of studying to do.
“Ahem,” a voice I recognized rang out beside me. Tingles blanketed my skin and my consciousness flared to life. It was him, the guy by the veil.
I hadn’t even looked to see if his mohawk was in place or god forbid that drool-worthy suit with the vest. My body knew it was him.
“Yes?” I whispered since the teacher was still talking.
“Do you see anyone else with a notebook or a pen?” His voice seemed to snake into my chest and wiggle around, both welcome and unnerving at the same time.
I scanned the class. No one else was writing or even had as much as a scrap of paper on their desks.
Shaking my head, I mentally begged my cheeks not to redden any more than they already were. They were practically on fire and were trying to get my neck to drink the Kool-Aid, the very red tropical punch Kool-Aid.
“That’s because this is History of the Realms. Fae didn’t really have three subject spiral notebooks back in the day. Put your things away and pay attention, Endymion. Don’t you already stand out enough without adding to it?”
Asshole.
Like all other assholes should bow down and make this guy a big butt statue, asshole.
Willing my tears to stay in my eyes, I nodded once and silently put away my notebook. The rest of the class was spent listening to fairy stories, but they were nothing like what you would hear from your parents or even grandparents. There were no frilly dresses or playful phrases spoken into the sky.
Those were the kiddy versions of the truth. It was like child fairy tales versus the real literary version. They weren’t even comparable.
I was enthralled, and that was downplaying it.
