Page 84 of Shattered Stars

“I can’t do that.”

“You’re going to have to,” I tell him, pushing past him to reach the door and ignoring the way his magic tingles against my skin as I do.

30

Rhi

Winnie spotsme as I come marching out into the corridor and squeezes her way through the swarms of students to reach my side.

“Are you okay?” she asks, hooking her arm through mine.

“Oh, you know, just dandy,” I tell her.

She looks at my face, and then at all the people hovering around us, clearly desperate to listen in to our conversation. “Wanna go somewhere quiet and talk?”

“And be late for battle strategy and theory?”

Winnie grimaces and I know exactly what she’s thinking.

Summer’s in that class with us.

Tristan’s attention to me has sent her skating right to the very edge. But this? This will finally push her right over. Everyone in the school knows Tristan should have asked her. With Spencer gone, he’ll obviously be made captain of the dueling team. And when it comes to dances and balls and shit like that the captain of the sports team always takes the head cheerleader. It’s written into some kind of hot-girl law.

But he didn’t ask her, he asked me. The girl everyone hates. The girl everyone despises. Especially Summer Clutton-Brock.

It’s a bitter, bitter pill for her to swallow. One she’ll choke on, and spit up in my face. Yep, she’s going to make my life a living hell. And she’ll start by telling on me.

“We could skip it,” Winnie suggests a little unsurely, “or claim we both have cramps.”

“Both of us? At the same time?”

“It’s known that roomies sync their cycles.”

“Yeah, I’m sure old Professor Browne knows all about that,” I say, rolling my eyes. “No, the gossip is going to happen whether I’m there or not. I’m not ashamed or embarrassed … or scared,” I add. Although, I’m not sure that’s true. I may not be scared of Summer but I am scared of what’s coming my way. For a moment, I consider if Winnie’s plan is a better one. If I should claim a cramp and go find Stone.

Winnie peers at me from the corner of her eyes. “What happened?”

“What do you mean?” I say, my stomach twisting.

“After you left the hall,” she whispers.

I shrug. “He wants to take me to the ball.”

“Because …” she prompts.

“I’m hot and gorgeous and irresistible, obviously,” I say sarcastically.

“Obviously,” Winnie says, grinning, “I’ve been telling you that for weeks. So Tristan Kennedy has a crush on you, gee whiz, Rhi!”

“Gee whiz?” I laugh.

“So what did you say?”

“What did I say?! No, obviously!”

“No?!” Winnie cries, several heads snapping our way.

“Shush,” I hiss. “Of course, no. He’s treated me like shit and–”