“Shit,” the boy muttered, his eyes narrowing. “I didn’t mean to. I just didn’t see her and I’m—” His voice cut off as recognition flickered across his face, like a blade catching the light.
“You,”he muttered. “Ofcourseit’s you.”
Riya frowned. Something about his tone gave her pause—like heknewher. Had they met before? Was he in one of her classes? But she didn’t recognize him at all.
She shoved her glasses up her nose. “Andyouare?”
It was almost imperceptible, the way he flinched. But like a match snuffed out, his eyes dulled again, and he shook his head. Exhaled.
Then, slowly,infuriatingly, his mouth curled in a smirk. “Huh. And here I thought our VP knew everyone.”
Riya bristled.Sohe wasn’t going to answer.
“Fine,” she said coolly. “I’ll find out your name later. The fact is,youbroke my friend’s mousetrap car and damaged her grade. So what areyougoing to do about it?”
He moved to pass her. “Look, I don’t havetime—”
Riya blocked him.
Accidents happened, she got that. But what mattered was how people handled them. A decent person would take responsibility.
But this boy? He was acting like none of it even mattered.
“Theonlything you should be doing right now is apologizing,” she said. “Or are we going to have a problem?”
The boy’s gaze flicked to Mel, then down at the wreckage. His jaw tightened.
When he looked back at Riya, the corner of his mouth quirked—amused.
He chuckled. “...Wow.”
“What?”
He shook his head. “As fun as it is being lectured byMiss Justice Junkie, I’m in a hurry.”
Riya’s eye twitched.Miss Justice Junkie?
Enough. Yes, her khala had always reminded her to keep a lid on her emotions, especially afterthe Incident,when she’d sworn off magic for good. But this boy—his flippancy, his sheer disrespect for Mel’s hard work, forherauthority—
As VP—nay, as Riya Khan—she wouldnotlet that stand.
“Tell my friend you’re sorry,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even. “I’ll wait.”
Around them, a crowd began to form, drawn by morbid curiosity, by the tension crackling in the air. Riya didn’t notice, though. Her focus remained solely onhim.
“It’s fine, Riya,” Mel squeaked. “It’s really not a big dea—”
“IsaidI’ll wait.”
The boy exhaled, adjusted his beanie. He ran his hand down his mouth as if considering his options, then turned a glare on to the crowd—sharp and feral. Several students stepped back.
Then, with a resigned sigh, he looked at Mel.
“Fine, yes, I’msorry,” he muttered. His voice a low baritone; under different circumstances, it might have been pleasant. But now, it was soured by impatience. “Okay? I didn’t see you. I didn’t mean to break—what the hell was that thing again?”
“Mousetrap car,” Mel whispered.
“Thatwas your mousetrap car?” He blinked. “Okay. Sure. Sorry I broke it.”
