Page 60 of Shattered Stars
I taste blood, metallic, and then everything fades away into darkness.
20
Rhi
“It’s like someone actually died,”I mutter to Winnie as we sit side by side in the Great Hall attempting to twist soggy spaghetti around our forks.
The hall is filled with the sound of sniffling and crying and the tear-stained faces of devastated-looking students.
“It kind of feels like someone did,” Trent says from the other side of the table and I notice, like quite a lot of the other students gathered around the table, he’s hardly touched his food.
“He was such a big presence,” Winnie adds.
“Yeah, well, I don’t remember anyone actually being this sad when they made that announcement about Andrew.”
“Andrew deserved everything he had coming to him,” Winnie says, waving her fork at me.
“Remind me to ensure it’s you who breaks up with me and not the other way round,” Trent mutters.
“Are you planning on breaking up with me?”
“No,” Trent says. “I’m pretty fond of both my testicles.”
Winnie sticks her tongue out at him as I laugh. “I hear she’s pretty fond of your testicles too!” I say.
Trent grins, but the expression dies when Winnie stabs one of her meatballs with her fork.
I laugh again and several people throw us evil looks, one actually holding a finger to their lips and telling me to shush.
“Jeez, we’re not at a funeral,” I mutter.
The campus is just as somber as we make our way to our dorm room after dinner. The usual sounds of dueling practice or the cheerleaders rehearsing doesn’t soar through the air and no one’s playing any music.
It’s actually a relief to arrive back at our dorm building. It’s far too intense out there, the entire school wrapped up in some strange mourning spell.
Against our door we find another parcel waiting for us. This one is much smaller.
“Wow, he really is spoiling you,” Winnie says.
I peer at my watch – I have half an hour before my tuition with Stone. Then I scoop the parcel from the floor and peer at the label.
“It’s for you, Winnie. Not me.”
“Maybe, he realized he ought to spoil his mate’s roomie as well as the mate herself,” she says, but she examines the label and smiles. “It’s from Nonny.”
“It is?” I say, following Winnie inside our room and finding Pip with his head on his trotters when we enter the room. I go to pat his head, surprised by the lackluster response to our entrance. “Don’t tell me you’re sad Spencer’s leaving too. We hate the dude, remember?”
Pip lifts his head ever so slightly then drops it back down to his trotters with a dramatic sigh.
“It’s nothing to do with Spencer,” Winnie says, dropping down onto her chair and unwrapping her parcel. “He’s been like that ever since our trip to Nonny’s.”
“He’s probably scared from your driving,” I mutter, kissing Pip’s head.
“There is nothing wrong with my driving, Rhianna. I think it’s something else,” she says cryptically.
I look at my pet with concern. “Do you think he’s unwell?” I lay the back of my hand against his forehead and he grunts.
“Unwell, no. Sick, yes.”
