Page 133 of Fractured Fates
I snort. “That’s not hard.”
“Did you work out how they manage to make the food so bad?” he asks, turning his head to peer at Winnie through his curtain of hair.
“Huh?” she asks.
“Weren’t you on kitchen duty?” he asks, the tops of his ears turning a similar color to Winnie’s cheeks.
“Oh, yeah, but they only let us do the washing up. We never got to see what goes on with the cooking.”
“I swear they try to make it disgusting,” Trent says and Winnie giggles.
“I once had a slug on my lettuce,” she says, holding up a leaf on the end of her fork.
Trent chuckles and quietly I pick up my tray and tiptoe away. They don’t even notice me go.
I’m reading at my desk, Pip curled up on my lap, when Winnie returns almost an hour later, looking slightly shocked. She walks into the room and drops down on her bed, her mouth ajar, her eyes wide.
“That was a long dinner,” I tease. “Did you go for seconds and thirds?”
“He asked me out,” she mutters.
“Who, Trent?” I say, my lips curling into a smile.
“Yes, Trent asked me to Founders’ Night.”
I lower my book and cock my head to one side. “You don’t look very happy about it. What did you answer?”
“Y-y-yes.”
I giggle. “So why do you look like you saw a ghost?”
“It can’t be real, can it? It must be a trick. Or maybe I’m dreaming.” She pinches her arm.
“You’re not dreaming. And it isn’t a trick. The guy clearly likes you, Winnie.”
“I don’t know.”
“Oh, come on, he’s always finding a reason to come over to you in lessons and ask you a question.”
“That’s just because he needs my help.”
“The dude built his own computer, Winnie. No offense, but he doesn’t really need your help.”
“Oh,” Winnie says. She sits there quietly for a moment before a wild smile dawns across her face. “You really think he likes me?”
“Well, duh!”
She flops back onto the bed, then screams, kicking her legs and hugging her arms to her chest.
“Is that a happy scream?” I ask her.
“Oh my gosh, Trent asked me to Founders’ Night.”
“Of course he did,” I say, rolling my eyes and returning to my book. “As if it was in any doubt.”
* * *
I rarely dream anymore.When I was a kid, my head was full of them. I’d wake up in the night, screaming, my body shaking with terror.
