Page 136 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

There’s a flash in Eliza’s eyes, but fucked if I know whether it’s surprise or irritation or something in between. “Yeah, that’s right.” She shifts her weight onto her other foot and crosses her arms over her chest. “And you’re...new.”

“Not really. My parents used to stay here.”

Her expression doesn’t change one whit. “Do theystilllive here?” The way she phrases it, it’s as if she already knows the answer.

Bitch move.

“They’re buried here...does that count?”

God, what a messthatwas. I didn’t even attend the funeral—I came down with a horrible case of food poisoning on the day. Serves me right for eating fish tacos from a questionable food truck on my way home from my evening shift at Purgatory. I was so busy spewing, I didn’t even get to say goodbye to my parents.Thank God for Uncle Quinton. He took care of everythingfor me.

But my first free day in this godforsaken place, I’m taking a trip to the cemetery so I can say a proper goodbye to my parents.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Eliza blinks, her mouth turning down at the corners. “I had no idea.”

“How could you?” I tilt my head. “We’ve only just met.”

She glances at my cup of hot chocolate, then back at me. “I do hope the Serpents teach you some new tricks.” She makes a circle with the tip of her index finger. “My favorite isroll over.”

As soon as I look away, I notice several of the girls in the lounge looking at me. The rest are watching Eliza.And it’s not casual interest in their eyes. They look almost…predatory.

God, what is up with this place?

Chapter 18

Mason

My first class is after lunch, so I volunteered to take the morning stalking shift. The three of us very rarely eat breakfast together—Knox only has coffee in the mornings, and watching Silas eat runny eggs makes me want to barf. Which means I get to watch Nim working her way through a breakfast burrito all by myself.

I have a fucking boner by the time she’s done.

Most of the girls in this place either skip breakfast, or follow Knox’s black coffee diet. Those thatdoeat have a bowl of fruit or a smoothie.

Nim eats like she just got off a desert island where she’s been stranded for months with her pet football named Daisy. Not that she’s vulgar about it, but it’s obvious she’s passionate about food.

I like that about her. Sometimes it feels like I’m the only one here who appreciates the Academy’s cuisine. Knox turns his nose up at everything he deigns to put on his plate, and Silas grabs the first thing he sees and eats it like he’s in a competition.

But Nim? I can watch her eat all day. In fact, I’m already planning to swap stalking shifts with Silas so I can do lunch with her too.

Well, notwithher. That’s not the plan. But close enough to watch, that’s for sure.

I opted for a stuffed omelet this morning, but it’s gotten cold how I’ve been fixating on Nim. Her roommate is sipping on a smoothie, but they pause for the odd chat.

What has Furino told Nim about us? She’s so far down Cinderhart’s social ladder, she might as well not bother climbing. Which makes her biased against us, of course. It was that whole thing between her father and Knox’s dad. After that shit went down, Romi’s future is as certain as whether there is a “theory of everything”.

Which is saying a lot, because this town has nepotism down to an art. The only jobs you’ll see in the Littlerock Gazettes are for things like janitors or call center operators. Anything less menial is handed down from father to son or, in rare cases, father to daughter.

Offspring are groomed from a young age to continue in their mother or father’s footprints. It’s the only reason why an only child like Eliza Jackson will be the CEO of her father’s finance firm when he retires.

Smaller families like theirs are rare in Cinderhart. People here pop out kids for a reason. The last thing you want is to give up everything you’ve worked so hard for because your child doesn’t make it to adulthood. Multiple kids secures your family line and preserves your creed for future generations.

Cinderhart families have the same desire to replicate as a virus does. And, usually, with the same dire consequences.

After an incredibly satisfying breakfast for both of us, Nim heads to her first class. It’s ground level, so I can keep an eye on her from the courtyard through one of the windows. She spendsquite a bit of time in the front talking to the teacher before taking a seat in the back.From the scowl on her face, it’s obvious she enjoyed her breakfast more than this class. So why did she choose it? Her second class seems to end on a similar note, with her taking up a seat in the back after a long chat with her professor.

An hour before lunch, Nim heads for the library. This time of year, students spend free periods in the courtyard, before the cold sweeps down the mountains and makes that impossible. Nim doesn’t feel the need to take the opportunity of today’s abundant sunshine.

Which is a pity—I would have paid goodmoney to watch her sunbathe like the other girls do. The sunlight playing on her hair, her skirt inched up her legs. God, I’d give my left nut to watch her takeoffthose stockings. There’s nothing sexier.

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