Page 31 of Fractured Fates
“You’re new, and, erm, not dressed in uniform, people are curious.”
Curious and obviously possessing some ability to seek out new people. It’s as if everywhere I go there’s a big sign flashing above my head, reading: new girl, new girl.
Talking of senses, my own blare so loudly with the proximity of all these magicals that I’m going to have a raging headache by the end of the day. I need to find a way to tamper down this sense or ignore it. One of my teachers might be able to help me with that. Then again I suspect my ability to sense and track other magicals is probably an ability I want to keep to myself. For now anyway. My aunt said it was a rare gift.
When we reach the front of the line, a large woman with ruddy cheeks glares at me with suspicion, and addresses Winnie.
“Only thing left is porridge.”
Winnie answers in an overly high-pitched voice, “Lovely, we’ll take two.”
The woman slops spoonfuls of a gray sludge into two bowls and passes them over.
As we walk away to try to find some seats, Winnie leans in, “Oh God, the porridge is the worst. I think I may go without.”
We carry our bowls down the row between the tables, passing that group of bouncing bunnies again. They’re out of the velvet shorts and in their uniforms now, although somehow their skirts seem no longer than the shorts did. They all watch as we pass, Winnie keeping her head down and her eyes to the floor. I take the opposite approach, staring at each one as I pass.
The one with white-blonde hair sneers at me as I meet her eye and elbows the boy sitting next to her. His attention is captured by his phone but he looks up and our gazes lock. He is possibly the best looking man I’ve ever seen. Chiseled cheekbones, clear, light skin, bright green eyes and a flop of golden hair. He looks like every illustration of a prince in every fairytale book I owned as a kid.
His gaze flips down to take me in and he frowns, his lip curling. I guess he’s not as impressed with my appearance as I am with his.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” Summer says in a voice so loud the entire hall hears. “I swear I can smell that pig.”
I glare back at her, but Winnie grabs my elbow and tugs me away.
“I definitely smell pig. She smells worse than the porridge,” Summer calls after me and everyone on her table erupts into laughter.
“Just ignore them,” Winnie hisses under her breath. “They’re establishing their authority. If you don’t rise to it, soon they will get bored and leave you alone.”
“Who were the others with the bouncing bunnies?” I ask, unable to help but glance back at the prince. He’s back to staring at his phone and I notice the boy sitting on his other side. He’s huge, nearly as big as the man in black, his skin dark and his hair clipped short.
“Who do you think?” Winnie says, climbing onto the last seat on the bench. “The popular kids. Insanely good looking, obscenely rich.”
I tear my eyes from their little group, noting they’ve chosen to sit right in the center of the hall where everyone can see them, and take a seat across from Winnie.
I’m starving this morning, but as I drag a spoon through the slop, I think Winnie has a point about this porridge. Could I smuggle it to Pip somehow? He eats anything.
“You have to get here early if you want any chance of finding something half decent to eat,” Winnie says, resting her chin in her hand and pushing her bowl away.
“I’m sorry if I made us late,” I say, deciding to brave at least a mouthful of the porridge. It’s lumpy, chewy and cold. I have to swallow three times before I can force the stuff down my throat.
“It’s all right. It was just as much my fault.”
“Can we get food from anywhere else?”
Winnie shakes her head. “My mom sends me stuff in the post but I’m out right now. There’s the vending machines over by the gym but the jocks from the dueling team guard those like they’re crown jewels.”
“Dueling team?”
“Dueling team. The normies have their football, we have dueling.”
Do I even want to know what dueling involves?
My stomach rumbles.
“Is there nowhere else we can grab food?”
“Nope, we just have to wait until lunch.”
