I shook my head and shrugged, letting him know it was nothing, or I hoped it was. I couldn’t be sure. Not when I’d had this feeling before. The memory was vivid and unwelcomed. It wasn’t a good one then, and it wasn’t a good one now. My intuition about being followed had been devastatingly accurate before, but God, I desperately wanted to be wrong this time.
Poppy kept talking animatedly, her hands gesturing as she described in detail how much Nash wasannoyingher. I nodded at what I hoped were appropriate intervals, even forced myself to give a few uh-huhs at the right moments, but my thoughts kept circling the same dark, obsessive loop.
Someone’s watching. Someone’s out there. You’re not safe, even here, even surrounded by people.
Maybe it was nothing concrete. Maybe it was leftover fear and trauma stitched permanently into my bones, phantom threats my nervous system had learned to conjure from nothing. Maybe I was reading danger into innocent circumstances because my brain was still hardwired for survival mode.
But the thing about paranoia, the thing they never told you in all those reassuring therapy sessions?
Sometimes it was just another word for being right too late.
I forced my death grip on the soda can to loosen fractionally and made myself take another bite of my sandwich I couldn’t taste.
“Hello?”
I blinked at Poppy. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
She set the cup down, leaning in, her bracelets clinking softly. “You know, no one expects you to be fine. What I’m trying to say is it’s okay if you’re not. You don’t have to apologize. Not to me. And if you need to talk, I can handle it. Promise.”
“Thanks. You’ve been an amazing friend. I don’t know how I would have survived Public without you.”
“Good thing I’m a rebel.” Poppy gave me a smug little shrug. “I need a smoke. What are the chances our attentive bodyguards will let us go outside behind the back stairwell for a minute?”
It was where the smokers snuck off to get a fix between classes. I started to wrap up my uneaten lunch. It wasn’t like I was actually eating much. “We don’t give them a choice because I could definitely use some air.”
Poppy grinned. “I’ll be quick. I promise. I just really hate smoking alone.”
“You got Nash,” I reminded her with a twist of my lips. “You’re never alone.”
She rolled her eyes, pushing away from the table. “That was cruel.”
Our shadows immediately started to follow as Poppy and I weaved around the tables through the cafeteria to the back door. She slid a sidelong glance at Nash, who smirked at her. My friend snorted and made a beeline straight for the exit.
The sharp, acrid burn of cigarette smoke clung stubbornly to the air, mixing with the scent of damp concrete. Water stains crawled down the walls in warped, abstract streaks, and patches of moss claimed the corners where the janitors never bothered to look.
“You and Kreed are in a good place?” she asked.
Maddox and Nash lounged casually on the steps over our heads, their feet thudding on the metal. I shoved my hands deeper into my hoodie pocket, bracing against the wind that kept sneaking under the stairwell. “Yeah, why?”
Poppy flicked her silver lighter closed with a snap. The tiny flame flared to life again as her thumb rolled the wheel, and she cupped her hand around it, shielding it from the breeze before taking a slow drag. The ember burned bright orange, casting a warm, stuttering glow across her features. “I never told you,” she said on an exhale, smoke curling like ghostly fingers around her words, “and it doesn’t matter now because it was before he became infatuated with you.”
I snorted softly. “The obsession seems to be mutual.”
“Something I can’t begin to fathom, but that’s beside the point. The Ravens made it known before you came to Public that no one was to talk to you.”
Ah. That explained a lot. Why I’d felt like such a fish out of water. “But you didn’t listen,” I said.
“I hate being told what to do.” She hugged her free arm around herself for warmth, her shoulders curling inward. “You’re not mad?”
“Like you said, it’s in the past. A lot has changed since that firstday.”
“God, if someone told me this was how I’d end senior year, I’d have called bullshit.” She took another drag. “A Corvo? You? Rusty? The whole…everything.”
I was half tempted to take a drag of her cigarette to see if it would chill my nerves. I huffed out a quiet laugh. “You and me both. I’m graduating from Public. I didn’t see that one coming at the start of the year.”
Poppy angled her head. “Speaking of the Academy, how’s Kenny doing? Have you talked to her?”
“Okay, I guess, considering. I’m worried still.” Kreed had assigned two Ravens to watch Kenny and Carson. Kreed hadn’t come out and said it, but I was positive Carson’s detail was doing more than protecting him. He was spying. Kreed didn’t trust him, and I couldn’t fault him for the doubt, but despite Carson’s bad decisions, he never meant to harm me. “I?—”
