Page 14 of What Happened on Roslyn Street?
“You’re not,” she says.
I whip my head back to face her. “Then what are you and your creepy dolls doing in my room? Get rid of them. You know they scare me!”
“Your room?” Her eyes widen. “This isourroom. Didn’t you know?”
I slam the door shut. “I would have recognized your name. My roommate is…” I dig through my bag. A few loose papers fall onto the floor as I search. “Emily Knott!”
Margaux inspects her nails. “Plans change. Emily and I swapped.”
“Why would you do that?” I drop onto my bed, hanging my head in my hands.
“Because I’m the only one in this school who will want to keep you alive.” Her words cut into me like shards of broken glass.
“Since when do you care about me?”
“Don’t pretend as if severing our friendship was my idea. I kept secrets from you because I care. Iknowyou know that.”
In a way… I do. Anyone with half a brain knows. The supernatural is known and accepted in our world, but befriending them doesn’t come without danger. There’s a reason little pockets like this school pop up—they’re rare places for the strange to fit in.
“You should have found a better way to care for me,” I say, lifting my head. “Usually, the people who lie to me don’t care all that much.”
Margaux knows why there’s weight behind my words. She knows about my parents and their inability to communicate, of the secrets they kept, and how it imploded my relationship with them rather than keeping me safe.
My father moved out of our home to a small apartment in Waterville, our family car got repossessed, and he gambled away my college fund. Eventually, it led to their divorce.
The result is now a small mountain of student loans that will chase me wherever I go, especially now that I’m attending private school. She knows this, and she chose to lie to me. It’s the one thing I can’t stand.
“You don’t know as much about this world as you think you do,” she says. “Do you know the founder of this school? The school you somehow snuck your way into?”
I hesitate.
“It’s a demon,” she says. “Strode is the name of a demon!”
“Well, that isn’t as shocking as you think. Aren’t the children of hell technically demons?”
“Yes, well?—”
“The point is, I knew what I was gettinginto. The children of hell, children of the night, children of the moon—I know it all, and I don’t need your protection.”
“That’s fine.” She flashes a dangerous smile. “You’re getting my help anyway. I don’t think they’ll let me switch rooms again, so… consider me your assistant. Don’t worry, I’ll work pro bono.” With that, she sighs, lounging on her bed. She lies on her side, fingers lazily tracing the red bedspread.
“Why didn’t you tell me your father was a professor?” I say.
“You never asked.”
“I definitely wanted to know about your father’s career!” I squat down, picking up the papers I dropped. Marguax likes a neat space. “I met him today, you know.”
“Hm? What did you think of him?”
“I liked him better than I like you right now.”
I stand with the papers in hand and find her nose wrinkled in disgust. “No one likes him more than me.”
“You would be surprised. The other students have somespicythoughts about him?—”
She holds up a hand. “Enough! They know better than to bother me with that conversation, and you should learn, too. God, this is why I never introduced him.”
“Really?Thisis why? Not the vampire-shaped secret?”
