The Thief

that Ms. Teague exacerbated the situation.”

Exacerbated? Camille wondered. What the hell does that mean?

“I just, um, I just wanted you to know she didn’t start it,” Jul said meekly.

“Very well, Ms. Graham.” The principal rose, straightening her suit jacket. “Still, reparations are in order. Since you seem so enthusiastic in supporting Ms. Teague in her endeavors, I am assigning you both to weekend cleaning detail, effective through the end of the semester. If you want to make a wreck of the indoors, you can contribute to its upkeep.”

Jul’s light chocolate skin flushed. “Yes ma’am.”

“And the ganguro?” Camille demanded. Rin Umino was from Japan, she’d know exactly what a ganguro was - dyed blonde, fake tanned, over-applied makeup. Was there a comparable word in English?

A twitch in her facial muscles was the only sign of recognition. “Ms. Dupree has suffered enough indignity today,” the principal said, her eyes narrowing to a glare. “You need to fix your attitude.”

Hayley needed to fix her outfit. Camille hid a grin.

“Hai, sensei,” she acknowledged, making a deep formal bow.

Umino clearly saw through the overdone gesture. “As I said,” she intoned, lip curling. “Your attitude. I will be speaking to your guardian about this incident.”

Camille nodded this time. Speak to Gabriel all you want, she thought. We’re winning.

Jul’s look, however, was one of fear.

Umino gave her an appraising look. “Just make sure your work is done,” she told the tall girl.

“Yes ma’am,” Jul copied her earlier nod, but with a more frantic motion, in repetition. “I’m sorry, ma’am, it won’t happen again.”

So that’s how it was. Jul would assume she was a direct pipeline to trouble now.

“Very well, you may both go,” Umino said, waving them out.

In the hall, with the door shut behind them, Jul let out a long sigh of relief. “That could have been a lot worse,” she said. “Your um, guardian? Will they be mad?”

Camille snorted. “Gabriel? No. High-five, probably.”

Jul smiled. “You’re lucky.”

Camille shrugged. Luckier if he’d let me in on his plans. But if Jul hadn’t burst in, Umino’s punishment might have been much worse...

Camille looked at the other girl and inclined her head down the hall. “Coming?”

“Oh! Yes,” Jul said. “I guess algebra happens no matter what.”

“Too bad,” Camille agreed, as they walked.

“I mean, if we’re going to get sentenced to trash detail, you’d think they’d have the decency to cancel classes. You caused a riot.”

Camille snorted a laugh again.

“Oh, excuse me, I mean you retaliated against an act of terrorism. Which inadvertently caused a riot.”

“A riot,” Camille said, trying out the word. “Me. A riot. Badass.”

“A food fight is a riot with edible projectiles,” Jul maintained. “We could advance warfare by decades if we could convince all sides to just use leftovers as ammunition.”

Camille shook her head, smiling. “Good plan.” Jul was pretty clever when she wasn’t apologizing.

They turned a corner, and Jul put a hand over her mouth, stifling a gasp. Rhys Ryan stood in the hallway, expectant.

“I just wanted to remind you about the display for the festival,” he said pushing his dark hair out of icy cold eyes. “You’re both responsible for it, remember?”

Jul was looking anywhere but at Ryan, paling.

“Your paper?” Camille returned.

Ryan’s attention slid to her, briefly. “Finished,” he stated, then held out a folded scrap of paper to Jul. “Some suggestions.”

Camille went to take it, but Ryan held it out of her reach. “Suggestions for someone who can actually read them,” he said, and Jul reluctantly took the paper, a light tremor in her fingers.

“As you were,” he said dryly, and left.

“Teme,” Camille muttered under her breath, then looked up at Jul. The guy had her spooked, alright. It was none of her business. She should leave well enough alone. “He did what?” she asked.

“I just don’t...um...he scares me,” Jul said quietly. “We, uh...” she coughed. “He’s right, we really should start putting the display together.”

Camille nodded. Might as well get it over with.

“Do you know a good place we could meet?”

She considered. “The cafe. It’s near.”

“Oh, that one down the street? They don’t mind people working on stuff in there?”

“I live there,” Camille said.

Jul blinked slowly, processing the idea. “Oh. Oh! That’s...kind of awesome.”

Camille shrugged. Maybe. She didn’t have a lot to compare it to. It was bigger than her old flat and it always smelled like frosting and coffee. If you were into that kind of thing.

“How about this weekend?” Jul said.

“Friday,” Camille said. “Closes at 6.”

“Cool,” Jul said. “I’m sure we can figure something out.”

Or you could explain what’s really going on... Camille thought, but they continued on to class in silence.

Later that night, Camille heard a knock on her open door. “What do you want?” she asked, sitting on her bed, bent over her homework.

“I’m looking for ice,” Gabriel said, sounding unsteady. “Do we have ice?”

“Have you checked the freezer?” Camille asked with sarcasm.

“I think I used all that...” he said.

Camille looked up; Gabriel was standing in her doorway, glancing forlornly at a dark liquid he was swirling in a glass.

“I had the loveliest time, catching up with an old friend,” Gabriel said. “My oldest friend in the world. You wouldn’t know her, don’t ask.”

Camille’s eyebrows raised. “Are you drunk?”

“Please, I used to drink a whole bottle of whiskey in one sitting,” he said, dropping into the chair by her dresser with less than his usual grace. “Granted, that’s been...” he blinked, eyes unfocused for a moment. “King’s blood, almost a decade. Alright, maybe my tolerance isn’t what it used to be.”

Camille shook her head. Sometimes, he did not seem like a responsible adult. “You should just go to sleep, old man.”

“No, no, no. We survived another night, we should celebrate.” Gabriel took another swig of his drink. “How about a story? I haven’t told you a story in forever. You used to love them.”

“I used to be able to order off the kids menu,” Camille said dryly.

“You don’t have to be a kid to order off the kids menu,” Gabriel stated loftily. “That’s where all restaurants hide their chocolate milk. You’ve got to give up this idea that you can be too old for things. Now. Once upon a time, there were seven heroes.”

Camille groaned. “They became too proud of their gifts, an old witch cursed them, they transformed into monsters and became what they’d hunted. Pride goeth before the fall. The end.”

“You’re no fun,” he frowned. “Alright, once upon a time, there was a man with three sons - ”

She rolled her eyes. “He couldn’t afford to keep them, they apprenticed to three different masters, they each nearly lost their gifts to a crafty innkeeper until the youngest son won it all back. Use your opponents strengths