“What do you want?”
He chuckles, flipping around to watch me as he moves backward through the crowd. Hands stuffed in his pockets, tail wagging.
He manages to avoid any collisions as he maneuvers, but his grin withers as he realizes his pony tricks aren’t working on me tonight.
It’s impressive, but not at all original.
“I can’t check on you?” he asks.
Check on me? Yeah, right. Elliot doesn’t check on me. Not unless he wants something.
“Whatdo you want?” I repeat.
He frowns, suddenly serious.
“What’s with the attitude, baby? You hungry?”
My teeth grind, and I roll my neck to keep a knot from forming.
I’m always hungry.
“No,” I snap. “But I might just find room if you don’t stop calling me that.”
Elliot raises his hands in defense, smirking as he spins to fall in step beside me.
“Alright, chill. I just wanted to know if you and Elsie were coming Saturday night.”
“Coming where?”
His ears flatten, and he cocks his head, nearly tripping up the steps to Trinity Hall. I bite my lip to keep from laughing at him.
“Yes. We’ll be there,” I say, once he’s collected himself.
As if we’d ever miss it. Kitty would probably kill us.
Elliot nods, the stupid grin returning to his face before he darts ahead of me, taking the remaining steps in threes.
He props the door open with his foot while he waits for me at the top, and when I don’t quicken my pace, he starts to grumble.
“Come on, Ashbourne. I don’t have all night.”
I laugh and drag my feet a little, just because I can. But when the bell strikes, signaling it’s five ’til, I swallow my pride and hurry up the last few steps. Only to be greeted by nearly a dozen faces on the other side, all of whom stop what they’re doing to stare at me idling in the doorway.
Fates, you’d think these people would have something better to do.
Don’t they have class? Lives of their own to worry about?
As the thought crosses my mind, I notice the boy closest to the door is still holding his girlfriend’s hand as he gapes at me. It would be concerning if not for the fact that she is also staring.
Gods, do we have to do this every day?
Elliot pokes his head around me, confused why I haven’t stepped into the building. But his unspoken question is quickly answered as he notices the many faces staring back at me.
“Hells,” he mutters under his breath. “These fucking idiots.”
“The fuck are you lookin’ at?” he shouts, voice echoing through the rotunda on the other side.
It takes a second for the question to register. But once they recognize the speaker, they scatter like rats.
