Page 20 of Kiss Me Like I Didn't Kill You

Two and a half hours later, I’m drained. After a summer free of academia, the return to structured study feels heavier than I’d anticipated.

When it finally draws to a close, I gather my things and step out. The corridor carries me past sweeping staircases and gilt framed doors until I reach the lavatories.

Empty, at first, and mercifully quiet.

A moment later, a few girls drift in, their chatter trailing after them. I’m grateful they don’t spare me any more notice than I afford them, which is none at all.

I adjust my hair to veil the scar, studying my reflection. The wound is healing, though far too slowly for my liking. I make a mental note to call at the infirmary after lunch for fresh bandages.

Infection, on top of everything else, would be insufferable.

When I leave, I cross the steps and make my way to the dining hall. Inside, my gaze moves quickly across the room. No sign of the girls.

I take my seat at our table and scroll idly through the menu, settling on a bowl of roasted vegetables and lemon water. The food arrives quickly, just as the doors open.

Octavia strides in first, her pink hair loosely tied back.

Piper trails behind, unusually pale, shoulders slightly hunched, a book clasped in one hand.

Adelaide follows at her own pace, perfectly composed, dressed in leather trousers and jacket, heels striking crisply against the floor. None of them speak. They don’t even glance at one another.

They take their places at the table. Dormitory assignments ensure we’re still forced together, whether we like it or not.

Piper offers me the faintest nod before settling into the chair at my side, placing her book on the table and opening it without a word.

Octavia claims the seat on my other side, her eyes flicking to my barely touched plate.

“Eat,” she murmurs. Despite her expression, I catch the glimmer of concern.

Adelaide chooses the far end, her disdain plain as she lets her gaze sweep over us. “What are you gawping at? Eat your food before you swoon again.”

A few students glance over.

I don’t react. She’s unconvincing to me. I cannot believe this performance is truly her. Either I’m painfully naïve, or something beneath the surface is fracturing. Adelaide doesn’t turn on her own without reason.

I push the food idly about my plate, coaxing myself into a few reluctant bites. My appetite is gone, but nutrients are non-negotiable.

The dining hall doors swing open, and the atmosphere shifts.

Conversation falters, cutlery stills, even laughter dies mid breath.

A boy steps in first, though boy is the wrong word to use. He’s tall, broad shouldered, his dark hair arranged yet careless. He’s dressed in black jeans and a leather jacket. I don’t know him, yet I remember the silhouette from this morning’s assembly.

Two others follow. One I recognise as the man Octavia was speaking with earlier. Without his jacket, in only a T-shirt, the tattoos covering his arms are impossible to miss.

The last, my lips prickle before my thoughts can catch up.

Midnight eyes.

I need to know his name. Who they are. But his words echo back to me, dark and final.

If you insist on an introduction, let me be plain. I am your worst fucking nightmare.

If I ever doubted his hatred, that alone should have settled it. And yet, the kiss. That brutal, bewildering kiss.

My hand drifts to my lips before I realise it, brushing the place where his mouth had claimed mine. As if summoned by the thought, our eyes meet across the hall.

His mouth curls into a knowing smirk.