Page 56 of Fractured Fates
“I’m just keen to catch up,” I mutter.
Catch up so I can leave.
Although, despite my first few shitty days at Arrow Hart Academy, I think being here – I think having friends – might not be so bad. I find I’m not the hermit I always thought I was. I enjoy Winnie’s company and Andrew’s too.
I let more wisps of air brush through my hair.
“We can spend the weekend practicing if you want,” Winnie says.
“Really?”
The first weekend here at the school I spent catching up on sleep and orienteering myself around the college. I’m hoping this weekend might be a little more exciting.
“There has to be more to do on the weekend than that?”
Winnie slumps in her chair. “Not really.”
With all these young people in one place?
“I assumed there’d be tons to do.”
“Oh, there is if you’re popular or on one of the sports teams. Then there are matches, and parties pretty much on repeat. But, I hate to break it to you, we’re not going to get invited.”
“That sucks.”
“You don’t really seem the partying type, Rhi.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never–”
“Been to one.” Winnie shakes her head and smiles. My strange upbringing no longer makes her break out into those manic blinking attacks. “Then we’re going to have to make it our mission to get invited to at least one party this term!”
“So what do you usually do on your weekends?”
“Saskia and I used to go for walks, catch up on our assignments and read books.”
“Oh my God, Winnie,” I say, sending an impressive blast of warm air towards her. “We’re twenty-year-old women living in the twenty-first century. Not old spinsters living in the nineteenth.”
“True, but don’t you start your chores for York this weekend?” Winnie says, peering at Pip who’s scratching his ear.
“Not until Sunday.”
“Honestly,” Winnie says, “there isn’t much else to do.”
I don’t believe that for one minute. Having lived hidden in the back-end of nowhere for the last two decades, I’m determined my first real weekend in civilization will be fun.
“What are you doing this weekend?” I ask Andrew later that afternoon in the library.
“Meeting a friend in Los Magicos on Saturday afternoon, then going to drink some beers with my boys later.”
“Hang on,” I say. “One, I thought we weren’t allowed into Los Magicos. And two, you’re underage.”
Andrew grins at me and raises his index finger. “One, you can go into Los Magicos if you have permission.” He raises his middle finger alongside the first. “Two, there are bars that will let you in if you look old enough.”
I glance down at my body. Could I look old enough? Maybe with the right hair and makeup.
“How does one go about obtaining permission?”
“Why? You want to come with us?”
