“Can I sit?”
Phil’s face fell and then turned a vibrant shade of purple as we both silently watched Tristan Prince pull out the chair opposite mine.
“Bleugh, bah bleugh.” Phil’s lips moved but she lost all control of the English language.
Was he for real? Was he going to sit at our table and watch us eat cabbage? My stomach twisted into knots in flat refusal. I glanced at his own tray; it only contained a bottle of water.
My heart began to palpitate until I thought I might hurl. I didn’t want to kill him anymore, but my body responded like a lit match to his closeness.
Phil’s mouth hung open.
His dark gaze settled on my face when he spoke, his voice warm drops of honey. Low and melodic. “I wanted to check you were okay.” He grabbed at the bottle of water, but then left it where it was.
“I’m…” My brain forgot every word I’d ever spoken. “I’m…” Nope. Honestly, I had nothing of any use between my ears.
“She’s fine, absolutely fine,” Phil assured him. “Good job you found her though. She could have been eaten by wolves, attacked by highland gypsies. All sorts.”
I tried to kick her under the table but jabbed his shin instead. Officially that was the last time I was going to attempt a subtle ‘shut the hell up’.
His dark gaze flitted over her and that stab of jealousy flowed into an outright wave of agitation. “I didn’t know there were many wolves left in these parts.”
She nodded. “Oh yes, when my folks were here doing their research they found loads of evidence of wild packs.” Her cheeks scorched. “And that’s me geeking out.” She stared at me intently. “Although, Mae is into history, aren’t you, Mae?”
I glared at her. “Sometimes.”
“She was just telling me about these weird dreams she’s been having.” This time my foot connected with the right shin and she squealed, pulling her lips tight into a grimace.
Tristan eyes zoned in on me like a search light. Thoughtfully they ran over my face, absorbing my hair, my eyes… my mouth. “This place has that effect.” He twisted the plastic cap on his bottle and I watched, mesmerised, as he took a long sip. Phil was almost panting, her tongue lolling like a retriever chasing a ball.
“How long have you been here?” Phil asked, feigning a crooked innocence. Like she didn’t damn well know. She knew everything.
His lips hinted at a smile, his gaze still focused on my face until he graced Phil with a light nod. “I thought you knew everything, Philomena Potts.”
Phil squeaked. She actually squeaked. Before she had a chance to reply he snapped his attention back on my face, staring at me intently. Silently, we watched one another. Staring in mute mode was better than attempting to strangle one another. Although my heart still raced like I was stuck in fight or flight mode.
“So, any gossip from the boy’s side?” Phil asked, leaning her head into her hand.
“No.” He didn’t take his eyes off me.
“I heard Luke Simmons was going to ask Charlie to hang during social tomorrow.”
Her words pulled me out of my reverie. “Social?” I tore my eyes from Tristan’s face and turned to my Phil. “What social?”
She groaned, and Tristan fiddled with his bottle top, spinning it on the table. “Well, you know like I said we aren’t allowed in each other’s quarters? Once a week we have a social mixer, organised by Mrs Cox. It’s horrific on every level from here down to hell. We will watch a terrible historical movie and then be given a quiz on it after.”
“That does sound like hell.” I smiled. There was no way on earth I was going to that. Not ever.
She smirked. “You are so coming. It’s compulsory.”
I shook my head. “Nope, I’ve had a traumatic experience today getting lost in the forest, I'll be let off.”
She laughed while Tristan sat there leaning back in his chair, his long legs stretched out, silently watching us. How did he manage to make the uniform look cool? I felt like a prize idiot in mine. “I don’t think so. Mrs Cox is very enthusiastic about the social mixer.”
I shrugged. Whatever, it wasn’t a big deal. I had other things on my mind. My eyes wandered back towards Tristan like a moth to a flame. “You saw the stones I was sat by, didn’t you?” I wavered a little. What if he hadn’t seen them? What if I was really crazy? The necklace on my neck warmed and vibrated.
I clutched it in my hand and Tristan’s face dropped as he saw it. Did he recognise it?
My pulse thudded loudly in my ears and the room began to tilt at a strange angle. “Mae!” Phil called, but it was like hearing her through water. Once when I’d been ten my foster mum at the time had taken me swimming. I’d gone too deep and she was calling me to come back, but I’d been unable to lift my head to hear her properly. The memory held me fast. How had I got my head above the water? Closing my eyes, the thudding still pounding in my ears like an out of time drum. I recalled that day. The pool… it had been crowded… I’d always thought a guard had caught me and lifted me up. But there had been no hands. No lift. I’d just surged on the side like a fish flapping on a bank.
“I think I’m going to be sick.” I muttered. But if I was talking in the past, staring at the face of a woman from my childhood, or talking to Phil I didn’t know.
Cool hands smoothed my face. “Mae?” and I blinked into deep pools of liquid ink. His face was at once recognisable, not just from my dreams, but from somewhere deep within me. “I know you.” The room faded around me, but I carried on staring
