Page 26 of Fractured Fates
I sigh. “It’s complicated.”
“I bet!” I hear her shift on her mattress. “Rhi?” she says after a minute.
“Yes?”
“I’m hoping we’re going to be good friends, at the very least civil roomies, so can I offer you a word of advice?”
“Sure.” I have a feeling I’m going to need all the advice I can get navigating this new social situation.
“Maybe don’t go around telling everyone you were unregistered.”
“Why not?” I’m not ashamed of who I am and I don’t care what anyone may think of me.
“I’m guessing you haven’t been around many magicals. Unregistereds are pretty much despised amongst the magical community – I know you must have your reasons but … They’re considered the lowest of the low.”
I chew my thumb. “That’s what you think of me?”
“I only just met you. I have no opinion of you yet. But I’m super stoked to have a roomie again and not just to save on the money. Like I said, I hope we can be friends.”
I nod into the darkness. “Why do people think like that?”
“Oh gosh,” she says. “The authorities have done a pretty good job at telling us all how awful the unregistered magicals are.”
“And people believe everything the authorities tell them?”
Winnie laughs, not answering my question and soon I hear her soft snores.
I think I’ll be awake for ages, staring up at the moldy ceiling, listening to the alternate snores of Winnie and Pip, contemplating what fresh hell awaits me in the morning.
But I’m asleep before I know it.
10
Rhi
I’m wokenby the sound of loud snorting and a series of screams from below me. The light snaps on and I shield my eyes, roll over and peer down towards the floor.
Pip is awake and racing up and down the length of Winnie’s bed. Winnie is sitting on her mattress, her knees clutched to her chest as if she’s about to be attacked by a pack of rabid wolves.
“What the hell is that?” she squeals.
I swing my legs off the bed and drop down onto the floor. “My pig, Pip. Excuse his manners, but he hasn’t eaten for two days.”
Pip comes trotting up to me, bumping his wet snout against my bare legs.
“Y-y-your pig.” She blinks at me like she did before we went to bed, like my words don’t quite compute.
“Yes, he’s my pet.”
“We’re not allowed pets in Arrow Hart. If Professor York finds out–”
“The principal gave me permission to keep him here. As long as he stays in my room or on the patch of grass outside our window.”
“She did.” Winnie’s face morphs from pale to green. “He’s small now, but don’t pigs grow really big? Don’t they eat humans?”
“He is fully grown,” I say, crouching down and tickling his ears. Usually that action calms him the heck down, but today he’s too hungry and snorts at me angrily. “He was the runt of the litter. That’s why we named him Pipsqueak and that’s why we kept him.”
“We?”
