Page 11 of Requiem

“Is that what happened?” Principal Ford addresses me.

Hmm. Let’s think about my options here. I could tell her the full story. It would be relatively easy to reveal what I know about Beth’s fucked up home life. But…

But.

Information like this is a currency. Spend it now and its gone. Who knows what it could buy me in the future.

I nod, dragging up enough emotion to my face to appear embarrassed. “Yeah. She laughed at me. Called me stupid. Said she was going to tell everyone that I’d been held back.”

Principal Ford rocks on her heels, sighing deeply. “Yes, well. It doesn’t matter what she or anyone else says, does it? You know the truth, and that really is all that matters.”

Humiliation isn’t an easy emotion for me to emulate. After suffering through all that I did as a child, and then being thoroughly, ritually stripped of my ego by Ruth and Gaynor when I first arrived at Falcon House, I really don’t care what other people think of me. This is all a manipulation, a front to build a story that people will believe about me. I try my best to force a tear out. Nothing triggers people’s empathy response like a couple of fat, well-timed crocodile tears. “Yes, Principal Ford.”

“Hush that now. You’re fine to head on to your next class, Sorrell. If you have any problems settling in, my door is always open. And you,” she says, wheeling on Beth. “You’ve scored yourself detention for a week, and you’re banned from going to the Genesis Ball at the end of the month.”

“Principal Ford!”both girls protest.

“I’m helpingorganizethe ball,” Beth says.

“Not anymore you’re not. Go on. Get to class. And if I hear that you’re bothering Sorrell again, so help me god if I don’t ban you from every single social event of the coming year. Including your own graduation ceremony.”

The two blondes wheel and stomp off down the hallway, bickering angrily between themselves as they flee. Principal Ford spends no more time coddling me. “Make some friends and fast,” she tells me. “Those two are vipers. They’ll make your life here miserable if you don’t have a group of friends to protect you.”

This place is even more prison-like than I thought.

I head down the hall, not really sure which way I’m supposed to be going, not really caring. The eyes of the entire school are on me as I hurry away from my locker. Mine are glued to my feet. Which is why I don’t see him blocking my path, and I collide straight into his chest.

“Whoa! Jesus. Trying out for the football team, quarterback?”

Of course it’shim. Just…seriously. Fuck my luck.

The first thing I notice is how tall he is; Theo Merchant towers over me. The second thing I notice is the weird blue tape wrapped around the tips of his index and the middle finger of his left hand. The spiderweb of fine, silvered scars that fan out across the back of the same hand, curving downward in a jagged line around the base of his thumb.

His hair—the color of coal, and midnight, and nightmares—is buzzed on the sides but a little longer on the top, swept back in that casual, artful way that boys seem to master without looking like they spent any time on their hair at all. His eyes are all honey and caramel, a brown so light that they look like burnished gold. His jawline is proud and strong, his cheekbones disgracefully high. His nose…damn. I’ve never given two shits about a guy’s nose before, but Theo Merchant’s nose is as straight as an arrow and regal. There are three small freckles under his right eye that form an almost perfect equilateral triangle…

Fuck.

What am I doing? I’m staring, for god’s sake. He cracks a cool smile at me, and hearts break all over the world. “You’re not supposed to be here,” he says.

Despite the warmth of their coloring, Theo’s eyes have taken on a suddenly cold edge. In the back of my head, the alarm bells wail frantically, urging me to be on guard. I marshal my features, training my expression into a blank look as I meet those golden eyes. “In the hallway? I was just on my way to cl—”

His dark brows knit tight together. “At thisschool.” Deep and resonant, the power of his voice hits me hard—a bass drum thumping in the cavity of my chest. The timbre of it fills me with dread.

‘Take the wheel, Seb. She’s got my dick in her fucking mouth.’

These are the words I remember Theo saying the night Rachel died. They’ve replayed in my head over and over again since that night. The sound of them looping on repeat have driven me to the point of nausea more than once. He speaks now, adding new words to my Theo Merchant memory bank, and my stomach rolls on cue.

“Excuse me?”

He huffs. “That would have been appropriatebeforeyou barreled into me.”

Wow. This guy really is a prick. I master myself; Ruth will be disappointed in me if I don’t stick to the plan, but everything inside me is screaming for me to hurl myself at this smug prick.Hurt him. Maim him. Humiliate him. Kill him.He deserves nothing better. Internally, I am a raging sea, a storm, a class ten hurricane that will rip him from his feet and tear the bastard limb from limb. Externally, I am as peaceful as a calm summer’s day.

I give him the look that I’ve practiced so hard in the mirror—the doe-eyed, innocent,‘I’m so confused. Please help me,’ expression that turns even the most level-headed guys into morons. “Sorry. I’m new. Iamenrolled, though. I’m not quite sure…what you mean?” I let out a nervous little laugh, looking down at the floor before quickly looking back up at him from beneath my own dark lashes.

Theo stares down at me blankly, unaffected by my coquettish little act. “I’m fully aware of your enrollment status. I’m fully aware of why you’re here, and you can forget it. You’re wasting your time. What, you thought I wouldn’t remember you from the party?”

A jolt of adrenaline hits my veins, the burst of raw energy narrowing my focus to a pinpoint. Fuck. I barely saw him that night. I have no recollection of ever talking to him. I was in the car with him at the end of the night, but he’d been so fucked up…

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