Alright. We’ll just have to do this the hard way.
Dinner first, though.
Filling my plate from the scarce buffet, I take a seat in the corner, my back to the wall so I can keep my eyes on the room.
I fork food into my mouth, content to have a little quiet without the constant hum of power that I seem to always pick up off of the guys. Speaking of power, I replay the fight with Rory over and over in my mind. The way I felt his power buzzing against my body. I don’t think it’s normal. Neither is the way I seemed to toss that water bottle across the room without effort.
Something is happening and I can’t explain it. I’m not sure I should. It feels like a secret best kept to myself until I can figure it out. Or recreate it.
That sounds like a good idea, except I have no idea how the hell I managed to do it in the first place.
“Hello.” A girl calls as she walks to my section of table. A couple of people look her way as she disrupts the heavy silence with her small voice. What the hell is she doing? We don’t talk to each other. Doesn’t she know that? Is she new?
“Hi.” I give her a cold little wave, making sure she understands I’m not up for company. What is happening?
Without asking, she plops herself in the seat across from me and I eye her with a look I hope says “what the fuck, Barbie?”
Her blonde hair is pulled tightly into a ponytail that sits high on her head. It’s the fancy kind too, where the hair wraps around the rubber band so you can’t even see it. She has overachiever written all over her. I brush my fingers through my own long locks, aware of the messy state they’re probably in from my fights earlier with the guys.
“I’m Nala.” She grins and takes a dainty bite of food, looking at me over her fork.
“Hart.” I take another bite myself and then can’t help but to ask. “Nala?” Every assassin chooses a name to go by, something different from their real one. Unless you were me. Armond chose mine and it just kind of stuck.
She blushes, her cheeks turning a rosy hue. “It’s from the Lion King. I loved that movie growing up.” She looks embarrassed, and for some reason I decide to save her.
“I liked the book. You’ve got the mane of blonde hair to pull off the nickname.” I nod toward her ponytail.
Grinning, she nods, her face returning to a normal shade a few beats later.
I did like the book. I couldn’t attend school without being tossed into a state system like foster care. But I spent my time in the public library daily like it was a haven. I don’t have a typical education but I’m smart. Learning was just harder for me growing up.
Everything was harder growing up.
We eat in silence for a while. “You know that no one here really talks to each other, right?”
I don’t say it in a malicious way, but her odd behavior is throwing me for a loop.
She leans across the table. “I know, and it’s so weird to me. I mean, none of us have normal friends outside of the ‘job’.” She puts the word in air quotes, breezing over what we actually do for a living. I won’t lie, it’s hard for me to picture this pristine girl getting her hands dirty. Not that assassins all have a typical look, or anything. I can definitely see where her too-perfect looks would be an asset. Plus, there’s always been more male assassins than female. Any woman willing to kill is an asset to the League. Except me, that is. Since I’m a little on Armond’s shit list at the moment.
I give her a tight smile, realizing she’s been chatting the whole time I’m in my head. Something about a new movie that’s playing at the cinema down the road. Exhaustion seeps into me fast, and I decide to excuse myself.
My chair scrapes silently across the carpeted floor and I stand up. “Sorry, work.” I collect my things and notice a quick flinch in the girl’s eyes from the top of my vision. Maybe not a flinch so much as a narrowing? This girl may not be all sunshine and rainbows. It makes sense. She’s a killer after all. Sighing, I give in. “I’m not good at this friend thing,” I motion back and forth between the girl and myself, “but maybe I’ll see you around.” A smile lights her face again.
“Until then.” She nods and smiles oddly for no particular reason. The small polite smile makes my brows tense and I finally leave, trying not to be creeped out.
God, what’s wrong with you, Alexa? She was just being nice. Seriously, who smiles for no apparent reason though? Am I so broken that I can’t even make a friend? Doesn’t matter. Head in the game. Don’t associate with others. That’s always been your rule.
Except I’m breaking that rule by being involved with Tylin and his crew of misfits.
I shake my head at myself as I climb the stairs and enter my apartment.
Rules were always more like guidelines anyway. Isn’t that the saying?
Fourteen
A Delicious Wake Up Call
The soundof crunching is the only thing that alerts me to Mouse’s presence in my apartment when consciousness returns to my body. I’m lying on my stomach with my face pressed into my pillow and I pray hard that I don’t have drool staining my pillow.
