Page 82 of Endless Anger
“Oh.” She looks at the two guys, toying with her ponytail.
“No couples,” Tiernan says. “But other than that, you can bring whoever you want.”
I stare at them for a long time, weighing my options. Despite them trying to rile me up, it doesn’t seem like the school gives much of a shit about what happened in Erebus Hall, considering how everything has gone on as normal. Maybe they’ve gotten so used to blowing off student deaths that these were no big deal, or perhaps having two Andersons on campus has them frothing at the mouth for a different sort of destruction.
Either way, attending a partycouldbe a smart move.
At the least, it’ll give Lucy something to do rather than hide out in the library. I’m certain she won’t like me attending on my own. She never did when we were kids, tagging along so she could bounce on her heels all night and chase off anyone who wanted to talk to me.
Not that I minded. It was nice to have a guard dog on occasion rather than being one myself.
I wouldn’t have wanted to speak to anyone but her anyway.
Pushing past the little group, I continue across the quad. The rain picks up, drizzling harder than moments before and soaking my sweater through.
When I glance back over my shoulder, the group has dispersed, though the dark-haired man remains, staring after me.
Watching.
Waiting, maybe, though I’m not interested in sticking around to find out what for.
Foxe is flippingthrough one of my sketchbooks on the bed when I get back to my room, with Keats curled up on his bare chest. There’s a scar over one pectoral, white and splotchy, from the tattoo he had removed a few months back, and I wonder if he regrets it yet since the rest of his torso is still covered in them.
“Jesus, do you have to be hereall the time?” I snap, irritated by the day’s events so far.
It’s not until I close the door and toss my backpack to the floor that I realize he’s not alone. Lucy sits by his feet with her knees to her chest, glaring at a tattered book lying open on the mattress.
I stop in my tracks, blinking. Immediately, my gaze swings to my cousin, taking in his disheveled, half-naked appearance.
Lucy’s shoes are off, discarded somewhere near the desk. Her sweater is soaked, sticking to her like glue. A part of me wonders how long she’s been in here and how she got here before me.
My jaw clenches, mulling over the possibilities.They’rerelated too, distantly, but that does nothing to balm the jealousy surging within me.
Foxe smirks, staring up at the ceiling. “Took ya long enough.”
I ignore him, looking at Lucy. “Didn’t you have a meeting with your professor?”
“Yup.” She glances up, eyes narrowing. “Thanks for waiting, by the way.”
“You said you wanted nothing to do with me.”
“Since when do you actually listen to what I say?” Extending her legs, she leans over the side of the bed, digging into her bag, and yanks out the torn notebook paper I gave her earlier. “And by the way… I don’t want you taking notes for me.”
“Who should I take them for?”
She gives me a dirty look. “Yourself? Why do I care?”
“But I don’t need them.”
“Even more reason you shouldn’t just take it upon yourself to offerunsolicited help.” Her arm falls, and the paper slips from her fingers. “Did you come to Avernia just to make me feel stupid again?”
Again?I take a step forward but stop myself from closing the distance. Agitation swells in her irises, and while I do enjoy pissing her off—always have—I don’t want her to run.
This oddly feels like progress. Her being in my room without summoning.
“Maybe I was tired of being around Foxe twenty-four seven,” I say. “You try it, and tell me you wouldn’t go looking for reprieve.”
“No thanks,” she spits.
