Page 27 of Suspicions on the Stage
“You’ve only been back a day, Morgana,” I mutter as I bank to the right, heading away from the center of the quad to thesoutheast. “None of the guys have sent any S.O.S. texts, and there aren’t law officers invading, so maybe you can chill out for a moment.”
It’s not in my nature to do so, and I know it, so as I land at the small park right before the entrance to the campus business area, I file those worries away for future reflection. The only place I’ve been in this mini-town is Slade’s shop, and I have time to explore today. Folding my wings until they disappear, I run a hand over my hair and make sure I don’t look like a crazy woman, then head in.
Looking down the cobblestone street, I note The Beanery is the first business, and it’s prominently situated to draw students from the nearby arts building. However, there are quite a few other convenient shops and places for supes to frequent so they don’t have to venture off the campus into the city proper. I study the signs, deciding where I’d like to go while I wait for Slade to arrive. My eyes land on the bookstore and I feel the call of books pull me forward like a tractor beam.
“About Tome,” I murmur as I reach the door. Chuckling softly, I pull open the door, noting a weird sound echoing in the large open space at the front of the store when I walk in. “Now, what in the name of Hecate is that?”
A small woman comes bustling forward from the back of the room, her face confused as she looks at me. “Dean LeCiel? What are you doing here?”
I open my mouth to answer, but it closes quickly when Kaspar strolls out of the stacks the woman was hiding behind with a smirk on his lips.
Well, isn’t that just fucking peachy?
a little respect
LUCAS
“Glad to see you back on your game, Wolfberg,” the coach shouts as I skate past him.
Luckily, he can’t see the eye roll behind my helmet. Being a pro-hockey player has been my goal since I was a cub, but with all the shit going on right now, it seems a bit… short-sighted to worry about my averages. But I know Nana and Morgana would tell me not to let the bad crap change how I live my life—they’re alike in that way—so I keep my head down and practice hard for the rest of the session.
When it’s time to go to class, I change out of my gear, tossing the soiled thing into the laundry and packing away the personal things I want to wash at my new home. My water bottle was difficult to keep track of while I worked, so I walk to the sinks, dump the contents, and shove it in the bag. No fucking way I’m drinking or eating anything I haven’t had my eyes on without the magic dudes checking it.
I’m not as brilliant as Slade or Iggy, but I can learn quickly.
“Yo, Lucas!”
I turn to look at Brock Slater, hiding my irritation as best I can as he approaches. I’ve fobbed this fucker off a ton of times since I got here, but he keeps coming back like a bad case of strep throat. He’s a walking cliche—homophobic, xenophobic, racist, rich, white, and privileged.Tau Omega Chihas him on recruitment and he’s been aiming to grab me since I first set foot on campus. I can’t tell him to get fucked, though, because he’s on the damned team.
“I gotta get to History of European Shifters, man.” I pick up my bag, turning to head out so he’ll leave me alone. “Sorry.”
“No worries, dude. I’ll come with; I don’t really have to go to classes.” My eyes narrow as he says that, wondering if telling Lady M about it will cause someone to audit his GPA. No way a douchebag not going to classes stays college sports eligible without shenanigans.
“I guess, man. Unlike you, I want a back-up in case I blow a knee or some shit.” I don’t wait for him to answer, just walk out of the locker room—not the murder one, of course—and move quickly through the rink to exit. Unfortunately, I can hear him breathing and I want to scream.
Technically, I wasn’t headed to a class, but Brock didn’t know that.
But it means that I don’t have a destination in the Arts Building, and I’d prefernotto hear Brock’s recruitment spiel again. I don’t know how I’m going to ditch him without raising suspicions about why I’m not accepting all his generous offers. A guy with my background and family treeshouldbe eager as fuck to join, but Nana made sure I have a moral compass. No way I’m joining something full of guys who could star in their own episodes ofSVU.
“It’s weird that I’ve had to pursue you so hard, Wolfberg,” Brock says as he catches up to me. “We don’t have to try this hard with men of our caliber.”
“Brock, I just don’t have the time to spare, man. Between hockey and the course load, I’m full up. I don’t want to commit to anything I can’t give my all to.”
He snorts, shaking his head as we cross the north portion of campus. “Get off it, Lucas. You don’t need to pass shit to have something if you fuck up your hockey career. You are the heir to a fortune; you don’t even need to work.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and hold my tongue for a moment as the rage passes. Growing up with that hanging around my neck has made me extremely sensitive to people using it as an excuse for me to slack off. “Look, Brock. I’m sorry you will not get whatever prize I’m worth in your recruiting games. I don’t want to make team stuff difficult, but this isn’t gonna happen. I’m not joining a frat, and I have too much to do to come to random parties and shit.”
“Man, youreallyare a fucking asshole. I thought the rumors were just that, but you think you’re too good for the little people.”
I whip my head around, giving the obnoxious motherfucker a dirty look. “Your father owns mining rights worth ten figures in Canada, Brock. You’re not a little person, and I’m not in the mood to defend choices I have every right to make. Stop being a pushy dick.”
The red-faced bully looks like he wants to step into me, but I’m bigger without shifting and meaner if we did. He might survive a few rounds, but unless something major happened, I’d kick hisass into the next county. Luckily for both of us, he knows it. He glares at the looming Beauregard building and waves his hand in fake disgust. “Fine. Whatever. Go pretend to be normal in your stupid class, loser.”
I watch him as he finally turns to leave, then head inside of the fancy building. It doesn’t matter that I don’t have a class in here at the moment; I’ll wander a bit to give Slater enough time to fuck all the way off, then take off for my actual destination. That way, he’s not trailing me like a paparazzo as I go back to my dorm to pick up things I’d like to bring to Morgana’s. My next class isn’t for two hours and I have time to get this errand done beforehand. I absolutely don’t want that nosy bastard to see me moving things out of my supposed abode.
As long as he doesn’t come back, I’ll be golden.
Venturing further into the Beau,I try to stay on the edges of the crowds. It’s filled with interesting people—studious looking, flamboyantly artsy, preppy, and some I can’t even quantify. I grin to myself when I realize this place must be like a second home to Slade. If I reach out to him, I can find a place to hide out until I’m sure Brock isn’t stalking me.
