I mouthed ‘fuck you’ as I took his phone and then kicked him hard in the shins, which only made him laugh even more.
“Mom, sorry I haven’t-”
She interrupted impatiently and showed disinterest in small talk, which was a relief. “Are you watching that girl?” But her tone sent a shiver down my spine. Living with my father for all those years had hardened her.
I exhaled to cool my frustration. “Yes. It’s all under control. You don’t need to ask every five minutes,” I asserted and went to swipe Ez with my foot again, but he swiftly moved out of the way.
“Five minutes?” she shrilled. “This is the first time we’ve spoken since you left for college.”
“It’s all under control,” I assured her.
“Don’t let her get comfortable,” my mother stated in that steely voice. “She owes us. She and her father…” She made that hissing sound when she found someone repugnant. Our mom did it so often that I don’t think she’s aware when she’s doing it.
Everyone wore a veneer of distrust since Dad was arrested. It changed her worldview—them vs. us. No one should be trusted until proven otherwise. Viewing the world through a black-and-white lens made her cynical and distrustful.
“I want her skinned alive,” she spat, and a tiny part of me actually felt sorry for the Boleyn girl. It wasn’t her fault who her father was. Fuck, I was starting to sound like Lev.
“Fine,” I said dryly. “I’ve got to head out for a run now.”
“One more minute,” she bit and punched the air in frustration because I knew what she was going to say next. I just didn’t want to hear it. “The charity ball.”
“Gotta go. Take care, mom.” I swiped off, shot Ez a dirty look, then leapt off the couch with Ez’s phone. He followed, trying to wrestle it back from me, but I managed to get to the front door. I was about to toss it off the porch, but he tackled me to the ground. “Traitor.”
“It got her off my back,” he raged back at me as we wrestled on the floor. “Always fucking,” He then mimicked Mom’s voice, “Why isn’t my favorite son calling me back?”
“Bullshit,” as I punched him in the ribs and he punched me back. Just the usual brotherly play fighting until someone gets a bloodied nose. “I’ll trade places any day.”
I let my little brother wrench the phone from my hand when Cole poked his head out of the games room to see what the noise was all about.
“I hope you disinfected in there after you pounded that chick, bro,” Ez scolded him in a friendly way, before racing upstairs while I lay on the floor staring up at the ceiling, ignoring the incoming call from my mother.
When I didn’t answer, a notification came through my phone, and I didn’t need to check it to know it was her. The message when I could be bothered reading it was:The Charity Ball is on Sept 27thson. You won’t let me down, will you?
Reluctantly, I answered her question with aNobecause she’ll continue to wear me and Ez down until we surrender.
17
Two days slipped by smoothly.I spent a lot of time with Mila and Erin exploring campus, discussing our schedules, but mostly we gossiped about other students. The Warwicks came up quite a bit, and I openly displayed my disgust with them, but didn’t give a specific reason. Sometimes Carrie joined us too, although she would give me the cold shoulder, and she was the only one who brought up the razorblade subject, which always changed the vibe of our friend group.
Each day before leaving my room, I fell into the habit of erecting the fish hooks at eye level of someone 6ftish, andwhen I returned, the traps and everything in my room seemed completely untouched.
I didn’t see much of Lev either and figured that if he wanted to hang out, he knew how to find me. The mysterious person on the third floor, I caught watching me from the window again, so I told Mila about the weirdos in room 18 next to her, and she said she’d take note.
Mila said she hadn’t seen anyone on her floor at all, but she could hear them moving around at night and the murmurs of someone talking in the early hours of the morning. I could tell she was slightly unnerved by the mysterious person in number 18, made worse by the fact that another trainload of students had arrived over the last two days, and yet no one else had moved into Morgana. The large twenty-two-room building seemed to have only four rooms occupied, and the second level was empty.
Finally, I kept my promise to myself and decided to join a gym to improve my fitness. There were five gyms on campus at different locations and for various purposes, but Erin said the best one was in the Sports School. So, I took the bus, happy to see the same driver, whose name tag said Gus—Gus, who drove the Bus, which couldn’t be funnier.
We swept past the crime scene again, cordoned off and guarded by a campus officer, who looked half-asleep, but I couldn’t see any forensic scientists there, so maybe they’ve finished.
The bus pulled up at the stop outside the basketball arena, and he thanked the driver. He hopped off and then followed a couple of athletic guys walking toward the building attached to the right side of the sports stadium. Bright green sports fields stretched all around the arena, making it feel like I was in a completely different world—a million miles away from the castle and thecreepy forests. It felt normal and much like the university I spent my freshman year at.
The scent of menthol and ammonia hit my senses quickly as I approached the counter, and I could hear shouting and the sound of a punching bag being worked over. I had to pay for a succession card, which I wasn’t keen on because I might grow bored with exercise before long. But then I thought of the Warwicks and the masked men and knew I had to work hard to get fit.
“Can I ask for a personal trainer?” I asked the fit guy behind the counter, who looked like he didn’t really want to be there. His name was Robbie, according to his name tag, which was pinned upside down so he could read it, I assumed.
“Is there anything that you want to train in specifically?” he asked as he scanned the computer screen, then looked at me when I didn’t answer, then his eyes ran over my body. Not in a sexual way, but in an analytical way.
I took a deep breath, leaned across the counter, and confessed, “I want to learn how to fight.”
