Page 143 of Fractured Fates

“They were making out right in the middle of the Neptune common room.”

“Really?” That doesn’t sound like Winnie but good for her. I twist spaghetti around my fork. “How was your night?”

“Yeah, it was all right. How about yours?” I cringe. “Ahhh … yeah … sorry.”

“You saw the post?”

“Yeah, if it makes you feel any better, you were one of many.”

“It does a little.”

“Tristan Kennedy is an asshole.”

“Shush,” I laugh. “You can’t say that. It’s like sacrilegious around here.”

“But true!”

“Yeah, definitely true.”

Andrew leans back on the bench dropping his fork. “Sometimes this place sucks.”

“I thought you preferred it to your old school.”

“Yeah, I do. That place sucked as well.”

“Maybe all schools do.”

“Yeah.” He picks up his fork and pokes at a fat-looking sausage on his plate. “You wanna get out of here?”

“Now?”

“Yeah, I was thinking of heading into Los Magicos, but if you don’t fancy–”

“Hmm,” I say, considering the offer. It’s been weeks since I’ve been allowed off this campus and I’m definitely beginning to show the signs of cabin fever. Besides, I’ve only been into Los Magicos once and I’m still curious to explore the place. “I’d really like to get out of here but I’m not sure I could go see Tristan Kennedy right now without scratching his eyes out, and without a permission slip …” I shake my head.

“Ahhh, you don’t need to worry about that. Most of the school – including the teachers – are comatose. You could raid the kitchen and vandalize the library today and nobody would even notice.”

“Hmmm,” I say, severely tempted. “I can’t leave Pip.”

He frowns at me. “Your pig?”

“Yeah.” I tell him about the pig’s trotter. Just like Winnie did earlier, he turns a shade of green.

“We could ask Dane to babysit him. The dude will not be leaving his room.”

“Do you think he would? And do you actually think he’d be conscious enough to pay attention?”

“The dude owes me a favor. I put him to bed last night and sat up to make sure he didn’t choke on his own vomit.”

“Ewww,” I say.

“Yeah.” Andrew grimaces. “He’ll do it and he’s a good guy. If he knows it’s important to you, he’ll watch that pig like a hawk.”

“Hawks eat little pigs,” I point out.

“You know what I mean.”

I chew, thinking about it.