Next to Paladin was the aforementioned Tessa, and next to her was Winter, tall and thin and all in white to match her hair. Then Caleb—now going by Supersonic—followed by Erin, and Freddy.
I was the only one in sweats. Only one in a t-shirt too. Nobody said a word about it though, even if Paladin’s jaw did go tight at the sight of the shirt. Try and pay respect to a guy’s father, and he gets all pissy for some reason…
Anyway, nobody said anything about my bar clothes. Nobody said anything about anything, really… the whole lot of them working as hard as they could to ignore my presence. Most of them were less obvious about it than Olympia, but nine people not making eye contact tends to be a little bit obvious.
But Baron Boner, I can almost hear you say, didn’t you just describe ten people other than you and Stonewall at the table? Right you are, oh anonymous ghost who should fucking know better than to interrupt me when I’m reminiscing… but I wasn’t counting Freddy in the list of people ignoring me.
Guy wouldn’t be making eye contact with anyone, given he was passed-out drunk.
CHAPTER 31
Hour or so later, and there was still no sign of Orca. I’d had a few sips of beer, decided I preferred the rotgut tequila Alicia had once smuggled out of her old man’s liquor cabinet, and switched to water almost immediately after.
Two people drinking water in a bar. One of them in a Paladin t-shirt, one of them actually named Paladin. Has to be a joke in there somewhere.
But anyway, an hour later and still no Nadia. Still no eye contact from most of my beloved class members either, although Winter and Tessa occasionally pulled their shit together enough to shoot me grey and green eyed glares, respectively. No Nadia, no drunken flirtation, no real action—of any kind—and no alcohol worth drinking. As parties go, this one wasn’t living up to the hype.
What I did have was conversation. Not with the nine first-years who were busy pretending I didn’t exist, of course, or with the one first-year who remained passed out in his own drool. No, the person talking my ear off—the only person talking my ear off—was my usually stoic, frequently threatening, always-quiet roommate, Jeremiah.
On the one hand… not worrying that your Shifter roommate is going to come over and stomp you in your sleep is kind of a good thing. Wouldn’t do a damn thing to help me sleep better—not after all those years on a cot in Mama Rawlins’—but still… kind of nice.
On the other hand, it was starting to feel more like an inquisition than a conversation.
“So when did you first realize you were a Crow?” the big man asked for the second time. The music was a lot quieter upstairs, but still loud enough that I’d been able to carry off pretending like I couldn’t hear him on occasion. Since we’d sat down, he’d been peppering me with questions about my power, as if his curiosity had been building up over the past three months and he was now just letting it all go.
I shrugged. “I was fucking the cute redhead that lived next door to our house. Her parents and older brother were gone so the two of us were out back on a blanket. Neither of us knew the family that lived there before had buried their beloved dog in that yard. When I came… well, so did the dog.”
“You mean…?”
“Yeah, burst right out of the ground, all dirt and bones and a few scraps of flesh. Hell of a way to ruin an orgasm.”
Total bullshit, but you already know that. Norm and Sue. Jeremiah didn’t get that truth. Didn’t deserve it, far as I was concerned. My childhood had sucked, but it was mine, and fuck if I was going to give it away to anyone who asked.
Plus, making shit up was kind of fun.
“That’s rough.” He shook his head. “What did your parents say when they found out?”
And just like that, fun time was over. I waved Jeremiah off and went over to the balcony to look down at the first floor. If Nadia didn’t show up in five minutes, I was going back to the dorm. Hell, maybe I’d even do homework or something.
There were still a lot of people down below, but no sign of a dirty-blonde Stalwart with ocean-colored eyes.
I started to turn away, then stopped and looked again.
A smaller woman with electric-blue streaks in her black hair was making her way through the crowd. Even from the balcony, I could see Vibe had her eyes scrunched shut, her face pinched as if she was trying to block out the madhouse of people around her. She took another step, then stumbled, half-collapsing to the floor before her legs firmed up beneath her. Whatever momentum had propelled her into the bar had already dwindled to almost nothing.
Can’t think of many places worse for an Empath still learning to shut out emotions. Kayleigh was a lot of things, but dumb wasn’t one of them. She wouldn’t be here for no reason.
I left the other first-years sitting around the table and hurried downstairs.
•—•—•
By the time I made it down, one of the second-years—a Wind Dancer whose name started with an A, I think—had pulled Kayleigh over to the bar, and was doing his best to calm her down. Because nothing calms an Empath like having someone up in her space. She was still standing, if barely, curled in on herself like a ball or one of those armadillo things from Silt’s homeland.
I cut between the two, ignoring A—’s barely audible squawk of surprise, and captured Vibe’s hand in mine. Just like that, the pinched expression left her face, and strength returned to her legs.
“How did you do that?” A— asked over the music, looking me up and down
