Page 76 of Riot House
“Mmm?”
“Does Doctor Fitzpatrick have a split lip? Fuck, it looks like he’s wearingmakeup.”
My friend leans and squints, too, chuckling softly. “Wow. Yep. That’s a corker of a bruise on his jaw. Who knew? I wouldn’t have pegged Fitz as a brawler.”
I would. I can see it on him somehow. A hidden, secret violence that likes to spill out from time to time. I realize I’ve missed his announcement while I was talking, and now I have no idea why the rest of the class is grousing very loudly, hurling balled up pieces of paper at the doctor. He holds up his hands, shielding himself from the harmless projectiles, laughing when most other teachers would be losing their shit. “Okay, okay. That’s enough of that, thank you. It’s not up to me. The curriculum mandates this kind of stuff. You have to complete team projects to learn how to work together. How else are you going to know what to do when you move on from this fine establishment and begin your illustrious careers as line cooks in fast-food restaurants, huh?”
A rowdy jeer goes up at this. Apparently, Doctor Fitzpatrick’s lack of faith in us is more entertaining than troubling. “You know the drill,” he says. “Now, are you gonna pair up like adults, in a calm, reasonable fashion, or am I gonna have to draw names out of a hat again?”
A furor breaks out, bodies flying across the room, friends searching for friends, people squabbling like chickens over who gets to be with who. I don’t move. Obviously, Carina and I will be partners for whatever godawful project we’re about to be assigned.
Only...
“I want Carina Mendoza, Fitz.”
Carina sits up straight, her eyes rounding out. What the hell just happened? By the window, Dashiell Lovett’s on his feet, and he’s pointing at Carina wearing a very cool, very entitled look.
“I think Carina’s already partnered up,” Fitz says.
“What’s the point in us working with our friends? That’s hardly helpful. How are we supposed to learn anything if we’re simply hanging out with the people we always hang out with?”
Fitz studies Dash for a moment, frowns, then claps his hands together. “You raise an excellent point, Dashiell. Change of plan. Everyone in this room must partner up with a person they don’t like. I don’t mind how you go about it, try to be sensitive of each other’s feelings or whatever,” he mutters, waving his hand at us as he stoops to grab his bag from the ground. “You’ve got two minutes. Figure it out.”
Silence falls like a stifling blanket over the room.
Well, this is fucking awkward.
People begin to reluctantly reorganize themselves, shuffling between the furniture like unhappy zombies as people decide who they’re now going to sit beside.
Again, I repeat,sofucking awkward.
“Come on. On your feet, Elodie. I need to sit next to my partner.” Holy fuck, how did Dash get across here so quickly? He looks so proper in his shirt and tie. It looks like he shined his Italian leather shoes before he showed up this morning. Beside me, Carina’s as stiff as a board. “You’ll regret this,” she snarls at him.
“Doubt it.” He quirks an eyebrow at me, jerking his thumb over this shoulder. “Are you gonna make this super uncomfortable, or are you gonna go sit next to Wren like a good little girl? We all know how much youhatehim.”
I am going to fucking kill him. I give Carina an apologetic look, slowly getting to my feet. My heart’s racing like a runaway train as I grab my bag and begin to make my way across Doctor Fitzpatrick’s den. Wren’s eyes are sharp yet calm as he watches me approach. I’m four short steps away from the leather couch when Mercy just appears, like she was conjured out of thin air from the fucking depths of hell, and throws herself down next to her brother.
“I’m still trying to figure out if you’re detestable, Elodie, but I’m afraid I’ve got you beat here. Wren doesn’t hate anyone as much as he hates me.” She grabs his arm and loops her own through it, smiling so angelically that my fucking teeth itch.
Fury pours off Wren like smoke, but he doesn’t get to object. There isn’t time for that. Because the next thing I know, I look up to find Pax scowling down at me. “Congratulations, Frenchie. Looks like I get to be a pain inyourneck, now.”
27
WREN
“You’re fucking damaged.You know that, right?”
Most kids were fascinated by the fact that Mercy and I were twins.How unusual, their parents used to coo.They look so similar, too. It isn’t normally that obvious when you have a girl and a boy, but they’re just like two peas in a pod.Mercy’s my female counterpart, which is highly disturbing most days, and really fucking annoying on every other. No one should have to look at another person and know, without a shadow of a doubt, what they’d look like if they were born the opposite sex. It’s just wrong.
She flutters her eyelashes at me, resting her chin on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, big brother. I resent having to work with you, too. But it’s time we swept all of this hostility under the rug, don’t you think? It’s getting a little old. Our parents are beginning to suspect something terrible happened between us. We wouldn’t want Father taking it upon himself to investigate now, would we? He just retired. Plenty of time on his hands now. He might be blind to what’s right in front of him most of the time, but he’s very good at solving puzzles when he puts his mind to it. I think I take after him in that way.”
“Yes, we both know how great you are at sticking your nose in where it’s not wanted, don’t we.” Not a question. A statement. A fact.
She preens like I’ve paid her a fucking compliment.
Fitz goes around the room, handing out assignment sheets, which means we’re all doing different presentations. He visibly flinches when he stops in front of us, offering Mercy our assignment. She rips it out of his hand, baring her teeth in a smile so terrifying that the muscles in his throat work overtime as he hastily heads back to the front of the room.
“You shouldn’t have hit him,” she says to me. “He wasn’t doing anything wrong.”
