Page 107 of A Heart of Bluestone

He just dips his head once. A dismissal, the sort of formal one that comes from teacher to student.

“Father is on the phone for you.” Oliver’s harsh stare is full of promises and threats to be fulfilled. He pushes his fist into the edge of the table in the mess hall, too close to James who shrinks in his chair. Then, in a harsh growl, he adds, “Again.”

Fuck.

That.

I know why our father is calling for me.

Again.

It’s not for anything good.

Not to tell me he loves me, or ask how I am faring, it’s not to check on my wellbeing after the bile attack, it’s not for anything I want to hear, not even to discuss my failing grade in Star Theory.

No, someone has snitched.

Oliver, maybe.

Dray, perhaps.

Asta, Landon, Headmaster Braun,anyone.

But the result is the same no matter who it was that ratted.

I punched my brother in the face.

Surrounded by students and teachers, an audience, onlookers who should never be privy to the depths of our dynamics, Isocked Oliver square on the mouth, and in front of that same audience,I rained my fists down on Dray Sinclair.

So that call is not going to turn out well for me. Hence, I’ve avoided it for a week and some days—hopefully longer.

Dray hasn’t struck yet, but I’m not a complete idiot.

He will.

And it’ll be…

The worst yet.

I don’t doubt it.

So maybe my father might be the lesser of two evils. Maybe Ishouldtake the call.

And yet…

Fuck. That.

No chance in hell.

My insides twist with a grimace that almost bares my teeth.

I make a face at Oliver. “I’m eating,” I say with potatoes rolling around my mouth.

Beside me, James says, “Oh, it’s alright, I can watch after your dinner until you’re back.”

The glare I shoot him shrinks him further into the chair, and his pallor is too ashy, too sickly.

Oliver doesn’t acknowledge that he spoke at all. The sharp emerald of his gaze sears into me, his fist pressed into the table, and his jaw tightens.

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