“I don’t care about tryouts. I don’t care about graduation, either.” The straw successfully impales the container, and Aida immediately clamps the end between her teeth.
“But Mina does,” Lucia argues. She turns back to me. “At least, you used to.”
I dig my knuckles into my eyes, leaning my forehead against the flat of my palms. In an academic sense, I understand why my abandonment of a long-held dream frightens them. I understand why they would see it as more evidence of some fundamental shift.
“But I don’t, though,” I say. “I don’t care anymore.”
I can’t tell them the only reason I’m here is to maintain appearances for Jesse.
“Oh,” Lucia whispers. She looks crestfallen. Rainie sets her phonedown on the table and watches me, an inscrutable furrow in her brow. Only Aida doesn’t react. She squeezes the bottom of her juice pouch until the thing is completely desiccated.
“Stop giving me the puppy dog eyes.” Resigned, I cross my arms on top of the table. “If it means that much to you guys, I’ll try out.”
Lucia whoops, but Rainie’s stare continues to bore into the side of my head. I brace myself for another round of questioning, but Alex’s arrival effectively quashes that conversation.
Alex slides into the empty space opposite me. “Hey.”
I straighten. The sight of my golden-haired ex brings with it a twinge of nostalgia, but nothing else. I broke up with Alex as a preemptive measure against the curse. Leaving him was awful, but I knew it was temporary.
Now, it may as well be a gulf between us instead of a rickety lunch table.
“Hi.” I give him a small smile.
I hope he’ll remember me fondly after he leaves Ward.
“What happened to your head?” Aida asks, bluntly asking the question everyone’s thinking.
I touch my bandaged temple. The lie flows easily, water gliding over a timeworn stone. “Let’s just say trying to stargaze from your roof is a bad, bad idea.”
All of them except Alex buy the lie instantly, shaking their heads and muttering about my ridiculous impulses. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time I’d taken advantage of the metal door to sneak to the roof and people watch.
Despair bursts in my chest. Have I always been such a talented liar? What else did I inherit from my mother?
A beast cannot raise a butterfly.
I’m the child of the Terror of El Agamy. That’s what Khalto Safa called Mama.
Alex leans forward, his forearms pressing on the table. “Be honest. Did Talbot do it?” He gestures angrily at the bandage.
“Dude!” Rainie explodes.
“Alex, honestly.” Lucia sighs, exasperated.
Aida pinches the bone in Alex’s wrist, nearly earning herself a knuckle to the nose.
I wait until they fall silent. “Jesse would never hurt me,” I say coldly.
“Because he’s such a paragon of stability and calm?” Alex shoves his lunch away. I’ve only seen him this upset a handful of times. “Wake up, Mina! He has a disciplinary folder the size of France.”
“So what?”
Alex’s lips part. He stares at me as though I’ve announced my intention to dance buck naked in a pit of gators.
“Do you want to rehearse your speech?” Lucia interrupts, visibly quivering under the tension. She handles confrontation about as well as Rainie manages small talk.
“Not really. Can you believe prom is this weekend?” I say, rerouting Lucia’s attention to her favorite topic.
The tactic works. Lucia launches into the game plan for Saturday, starting with the driver she hired to pick us up for dinner. “I made a reservation at Hathaway’s for six, so don’t be late.”
