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“Oh, please.” She flapped a hand. “Those hard-ass punish­ments didn’t keep you from rebelling. You just got whipped for it.”

“Which kept me from rebelling further.”

She rolled her eyes. What about his late-night trips into the woods? Innocent people didn’t sneak around under the cover of darkness. He’d been up to something since he came to Earth—she knew it.

“Anyway,” he added, “it’s arrogant to assume the demo­cratic method is best because it’s all you know.”

“Aelyx makes a good point,” Mr. Manuel said. “There are countless systems of government in existence, and none of them is flawless.” He pushed his reading glasses atop his head and settled in a vacant desk near his star pupil. “L’eihr reminds me of one of our ancient societies. They were called the Sp—”

“Yes, the Spartans,” Aelyx finished. “I knew you’d make that comparison. But you’re forgetting Sparta was a brutal warrior nation—quite savage, actually. Slavery, infanticide, ritual murder. L’eihrs aren’t aggressive.”

“Right,” Cara said. “L’eihrs just strip your basic human rights instead.”

Aelyx’s voice darkened. “They’re called human rights for a reason. We’re not human. Once again, you’re being arr—”

“Time out,” Mr. Manuel declared, using his hands like a referee to form a T. “Maybe we should talk about something else.”

She and Aelyx glared at each other.

“I’ve wanted to hear more about space travel,” Mr. Manuel said. “What fuels your ships?”

Cara knew the answer—an element called XE-2—and she had no interest in the new topic and even less interest in her study packet. She needed to get away from Aelyx and calm down before she smacked the fash out of him.

“Can I go to the bathroom?”

Mr. Manuel nodded. “Take the pass.”

The bathroom pass, a rhinestone-bedazzled toilet seat designed to embarrass students and thus decrease requests to leave, hung on a nail beside the door. When she moved from her seat, Aelyx caught her wrist and released it just as quickly.

“What about Officer Borsch?” he asked. “He should walk with you.”

Instead of snapping, Why do you care? she scraped together a few crumbs of maturity and said, “I’m going to the bathroom, not to Beirut. What horrible fate do you think’s waiting for me in there? Death by toilet swirly?”

“Fine.” He folded his arms across his broad chest. “If you’re not back in five minutes, I’m coming after you.”

“Suit yourself.” She grabbed the jeweled bathroom pass, slung it over her shoulder, and stepped into the hall, closing the door behind her.

As she ambled down the vacant corridor, she wondered for the hundredth time what Aelyx’s problem was. She knew he’d wanted to be with her that day in his room—the physi­cal evidence was unmistakable. He’d even snagged her in the hallway for another covert kiss before dinner that night. But the next morning—

Movement in her peripheral vision stopped Cara mid-stride, and she backed up, peering down the side hallway that led to her locker. A girl was standing on tiptoe, shoving a folded note through the door vents.

A girl? She’d assumed Marcus was behind the threats.

Cara pivoted on her heel and charged toward her locker, tightening her grip on the toilet seat in case she needed to use it as a weapon. Heat rose into her face and her pulse rushed with each step, but as Cara approached her locker, she recog­nized the girl’s blond curls.

“Brandi?” She was behind the threats? They hadn’t been friends in a long time, but Cara thought she knew Brandi better than that. Maybe Marcus had put her up to it.

At the sound of her name, Brandi’s head whipped around, gold ringlets slapping her cheeks. Her already wide doe eyes bulged in shock as she flinched back and then lurched forward again, scrambling to remove the folded paper still wedged in the locker vent.

Trying to destroy the evidence? Oh, hell no!

Gripping the toilet seat in both hands, Cara sprinted toward Brandi and used it like a battering ram to knock her aside. Brandi stumbled to the ground, landing right on her moneymaker, but she didn’t stay down long enough for Cara to tug the note free. Scrambling to her feet, Brandi charged Cara, crashing into her shoulder, and a full-on shoving match ensued, complete with hair pulling, swearing, scratching, and slapping. Finally, Cara threw the bejeweled hall pass at Brandi, distracting her long enough to push her backward. She faced her locker and tried to push the note all the way inside.

It didn’t work. Brandi kicked the backs of Cara’s knees, causing her to collapse to the floor while Brandi grabbed the note and shoved it down the front of her skintight jeans.

Ew. No way Cara wanted it now. She’d let Blake retrieve the evidence.

Panting, Brandi pushed a snarled lock of hair away from her face. “That’s not for you!”

Cara pushed to her knees and tried to catch her breath. “Then why’d you stick it in my locker?”

“For Aelyx.”

“Threatening him is just as bad!”

Brandi straightened, her brows disappearing into her bangs. “What do you mean, threatening him?”

“Oh, come off it. I know you wrote the other notes, Humanist.”

“What other notes?”

“You know, traitor bitch, I’m watching you.” Cara snatched the toilet seat, now missing half its plastic gems, off the ground. “Gotta say, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“I swear this is the only one,” Brandi insisted, pointing to her crotch. “But I won’t write any more.” She backed away defensively and added, “I just did it because he won’t answer my texts.”

“Wait.” Cara wasn’t following. “What’s in that note?”

“I . . . um . . .” Brandi retreated a step and swallowed hard. “Asked if he wanted to hook up sometime.”

“That’s it?”

Brandi nodded.

“Then why’d you jump me?” Using the battered lid, Cara pointed to the sparkly battlefield where fake rhinestones lit­tered the hall.

Brandi glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “Because you don’t know what Marcus would do to me if he found out. And my mom doesn’t trust Aelyx. She’d kill me if she knew.” She begged with her eyes and said, “Look, Cara. I know we’re not close anymore, but please don’t tell anyone.”

Cara almost felt sorry for Brandi. It must suck to crave popularity so badly that you’d be willing to hang onto a controlling boyfriend just to win a cheap tiara and an extra mention in the yearbook.

“Please,” Brandi said. “I’ll do anything. Just don’t tell.”

“Okay.” Cara couldn’t say no. It was all too pathetic. “I won’t.

Brandi pressed a hand over her heart and exhaled in relief. “Thank you. And I swear I won’t do it again. I’m really sorry—I know you’re into Aelyx, too. That’s probably why he won’t text me back. He wants to be with you, not me.”

“Uh, yeah,” Cara lied. “But even if we weren’t . . . together . . . you can’t get with him. L’eihrs are acidic to humans, remember?”

“Wait. So you two literally can’t do it?” She bit her bot­tom lip. “Not even with protection?”

“Nope. We just cuddle a lot.”

“How’re you gonna handle it when you go to L’eihr and see him with another girl? I mean, if you can’t do it, you can’t stay together. Eventually he’ll end up with one of his own kind.”

Like Syrine, who sees into his soul. “It’s no big deal. We’re not serious.”

“Oh. Well, I’m sorry about the, uh, note.” Brandi smoothed her hair and pointed over her shoulder. “I gotta get back to class.”