I had more on my mind than death and curfews. I’d spent the entire night tossing and turning, falling into dreams of Bash’s hot mouth on mine the moment I’d drifted off. Parts of my body that I’d ignored for far too long were becoming annoyingly uncomfortable and needy.
The cafeteria was crowded with students looking for answers, so when I walked in it felt as though every set of eyes turned to look at me. Ignoring them, I moved through the line, grabbing sandwiches, pasta salad, fruit, and a bottle of water, anything I could stuff in my bag and take on the go.
I needed quiet, solitude, somewhere people wouldn’t annoy the shit out of me by whispering my name under their breath. My dorm room would work, I thought, but it felt like defeat to retreat to my room and lock myself in just because I was feeling singled out. No, I turned toward another fortress of solitude… the library.
I’d been to the library once, the day before classes started, but I hadn’t been there since. I hadn’t needed any obscure books for my courses, which was what the library was mostly good for these days. I had all my textbooks in both print and eBook for easy access and my laptop was a life saver. I literally loved it more than most of my belongings.
Still, I conceded as I stepped into the dark wood and high-ceilinged room where a lull of reverential silence filled the air, the library had its own benefits. It was gorgeous, for one, and for two, it felt… homey.
I made my way to the back of the library where a ceiling of glass windows created a spacious solarium decked out with larger than normal comfy chairs. A few students sat curled like kittens in their spacious cushions, quietly reading or taking naps in the sun.
They called to me.
A sign on the wall told me that food was allowed in this area and this area only, a fact that was a relief since I was starving and had planned on sneaking food if need be. Not breaking campus rules would be much better. I took a bite of my sandwich and reveled in the taste of peanut butter and raspberry jam.
“Did you hear that the body was a student?” One of the students behind murmured too loudly for a proper library whisper. “I heard it was one of the first years, a scholarship kid from out East.”
My stomach twisted painfully.
“No, she’s the one that found the body,” another voice whispered too loudly. “And I heard it was one of the teachers.”
“Maybe it was Grimes and we won’t have that test on Friday.” The irreverent comment was apparently met with a slap because a moment later I heard a muttered apology and, “I was just joking.”
I sunk deeper into my chair and hoped the loud whisperers wouldn’t turn around and see me, the “scholarship kid” eavesdropping on their conversation. I didn’t need to worry long, thankfully. A nearby student who was actually studying shushed them one time too many and they got up and left with exasperated sighs.
I let my head loll back against the cushion and closed my eyes against the endless frustration I was feeling. I’d always had a place back home. I’d always had people and places that were mine. Now, here I was, alone, displaced, and feeling sorry for myself.
“Don’t pay attention to the jerks,” a soft smoky voice said quietly, so close my eyes popped open expecting to see a face an inch away.
She wasn’t an inch away, more like two feet, but she was watching me intently with eyes so dark they looked like buttons in a pixie shaped face that matched her petite frame. I took in her Nirvana t-shirt, which had seen better days, her ripped jeans and worn Converse sneakers, and short chopped hair. When she spoke again, it was like hearing an old Hollywood starlet through the mouth of this tiny fairy-like girl.
“Which might be a problem for you, considering this place is full of jerks.”
Her statement, delivered so matter of fact from such an unsuspecting source, caught me so off guard that a bubble of laughter worked its way up my throat and almost exploded in the silent space. I caught it just in time and disguised it with a cough that still earned me a few side-eyes.
The pixie held her hand out and I was unsurprised to find her fingernails painted a dark navy blue. “Hey, I’m Rory.”
My hand moved out automatically, taking hers. “Elena,” I paused, then added with a wry grin, “the scholarship kid,” as if that were my official title.
She grinned back. “Nice to meet you, Elena of the scholarship fund. My full, fancy pants title, is actually Aurora Genevieve Dumont, of the shameless liberal snowflake Dumont’s.” She arched an eyebrow in what looked like defiance and explained. “My mother is kind of outspoken about her role in The Sisterhood and some of the,” she raised her voice enough so those straining to hear our conversation could hear easily, “brown nosing backwards thinking families can’t handle that.” Rory shrugged. “So, they shun us basically. I’m expecting a very uneventful year. Lots of Netflix and pizza in my dorm room.”
“I love Netflix and pizza,” I said with a grin.
Her eyes sparkled with warmth and humor. “Then we’ll have to figure out if you have good taste in tv or not.” She narrowed her eyes. “Shadowhunters, yay or nay?”
I pictured my favorite characters on the show and pretended to be uncertain. “It depends,” I mused aloud, “on if you have a thing for Jace, because I’d slap a bitch for him.”
Rory’s giggle got us a few new shushes and filled my chest with relief. I’d just made my first friend at Alpha Wolf Academy. Maybe life here wouldn’t be so horrible after all. We exchanged numbers and made plans to binge a few episodes tonight.
“You’re in Xavier’s creative writing class, aren’t you?” Rory climbed into the chair next to me, pulling her legs up so she was curled into a neat ball that barely took up any space. Next to her, my long legs and torso looked gangly.
“Yeah,” I said hesitantly, wondering if she was a safe outlet for my frustrations there. “Are you in the class?” I hadn’t noticed her, but I sat in the front and she barely took up any space.
Rory nodded. “I was really looking forward to his class. I’d only heard good things.” She leaned in closer and lowered her voice. “But rumor has it he’s going through a rough divorce and isn’t himself. Maybe that’s why he crucified my paper with red ink.”
“Holy crap, he tore mine to shreds, too!” I exclaimed in a loud whisper as relief flooded through me. If Rory had gotten into the class, which required a written application, she must have talent. Besides, from what I’d seen of her so far, she was smart as a whip and saucy as one. I liked her. “And I’m here on a writing scholarship.”
She made a low whistling sound of commiseration. “That sucks. You must have been freaking out.” She waved her hand graciously and said, “Please, take my utter failure as a sign that his bad mood is the problem, not your writing abilities.”
I nodded smartly and affected a snobby tone, one I’d heard come straight from Daniella’s own mouth. “Not only will I take it, Madame, but I’ll hold it near and dear.”
Rory unzipped her expensive looking backpack and pulled a container of hummus and snap peas out. “So, have you made any allies here yet?” She crunched into a pea. “Other than me, of course.”
“Of course,” I replied, loving how comfortable I felt around her already. It was the way I’d always felt around Sara and Bethany. I’d just always figured our connection came from growing up together in such a small community. A twinge of uncertainty churned in my stomach as I thought about how they’d feel with me making a new friend. I pushed it away almost immediately. They were my best friends in the entire world. They would be happy I’d found someone to talk to.