Page 23 of Brambles and Bellflowers
Damen dropped his hands from my ears and stepped away.
“Ah,” I began, shifting my weight between my feet. “What makes you think that?”
“Finn always stands in front of you when he talks to you,” Anthony replied, brushing off an invisible piece of lint from his shoulder. “And if you’re not already looking at him, he’ll do something obnoxious to make sure you see his mouth.”
My face heated.
“Really?” I asked. How did I never notice this before? “He could be trying to make it easier to hear him,” I argued.
“No, you’re lip reading,” Anthony said. “I’ve tested it out a few times, and no one else has heard me while you responded.”
Darn it.
“It’s not nice to trick me.” I frowned.
“Nah,” Anthony rolled his shoulders. “It’s actually kind of fun.”
I narrowed my eyes on him. I thought we had bonded. Well, he would never be able to fool me again.
“Thank you, Anthony.” Damen stepped between us, his voice lined with weary patience. “But I don’t have time to deal with you today. Are you going to class now?”
“Yeah.” Anthony frowned down the hallway.
This was the perfect opportunity to ask a question that weighed on my thoughts earlier. “What’s your major?”
Anthony turned his attention to me, his expression softening. “Public health.”
“What kind of work are you thinking of doing?”
“I want to be a caseworker.” Anthony stepped back, pulling down the zipper of his jacket. “I enjoy helping others. I like it almost as much as annoyingyou.” He grinned at Damen. “Or your brother. You’re both assholes.”
Damen stiffened but didn’t respond as Anthony left, stopping to throw me a short wave and a wink before he turned the corner.
I glanced at Damen’s lips as he began to mutter. “He’s so infuriating.”
“Anthony?” I asked. Damen glanced back at me and raised his eyebrow. “I think he’s cheerful,” I continued.
“Of course you do—he’sBrayden’sbest friend. Those two are always up to something stupid.” Damen touched the cuff of his sleeve. “Though I doubt that’s why he’s always hanging around these days.”
“Why is he hanging around?” I asked.
Damen glanced at me and sighed again. The long-suffering expression on his face caused my hackles to rise. I sucked in a breath, jumping to the next subject.
I didn’t want to broach what appeared to be a sensitive subject.
“Are people friends with the othersintheir quintet,” I ventured. “Or do all the Officers hang out together?”
“Quintet friendships?” Damen raised his brow. “Not usually, even though they do work together. It’s rare for the entire quintet to be close. It’s more like a family bond; within families, there’s always contrasting personalities.”
“What about our quintet?” I asked.
“We’re different than the others,” Damen responded, lips thinning. “But in some instances, we are similar. For example, Julian and I have had our differences in the past—Titus too.”
“Is it always that way?”
Damen cleared his throat. “Not everyone in a quintet has tolikeeach other,” he replied, not answering my question. “We just need to be able to work together.”
I thought back, recalling an earlier conversation within these halls. Dr. Stephens had bluntly stated that Finn wasn’t exactly well-liked.
