Page 31 of A Heart of Bluestone

I can’t just go, though.

To get to a bathroom, or even just a closeted toilet, I must walk through either the grand parlour (the biggest common area in the Living Quarter) or cut through the cigar room (open to everyone in their university years).

Dray could be in either one of those rooms.

I’m certain he hasn’t retired for the night, because Serena’s bed curtains are still pinned back to the posts, and her sheets are undisturbed.

She isn’t in the dorm room.

I have no doubt she’s with the Snakes down in the common areas.

And it’s already past midnight.

I don’t know if I can hold it much longer.

How bad would it be if I peed the bed?

A horrid groan twists through me as I roll onto my front. My hands have found their way between my legs, as though I can physically hold it back.

“Oh, gods, just go!” Asta snaps from her curtained bed.

I throw a glower over at her. Of course, she can’t see it from the thick black drapes partially pulled around her. But she can sure hear me writhing and twisting and whining.

“Close your fucking drapes,” I groan. “Then you won’t hear me and have anything to complain about.”

Her response is ice, “If you don’t stop kicking about—” I hear the thump of her fist on a pillow “—I’ll let them in here myself!”

I scowl into my pillow.

Ridiculous, of course.

All sorts of enchantments block the male students from going into the female dorms, even the staircases and corridors that lead to our dorms are shrouded in that magic. To them, there’s an invisible solid wall blocking their way.

Same for us going anywhere near the guy’s quarters.

That means frequent uses of old, empty rooms in the abandoned Faculty Quarter for hook ups, or—my personalexperience—a storage cupboard. Not that I get a lot of attention that way.

Best to steer clear of me.

I happen to have a cursed effect on people. Like Corutney and James. Would they be targeted as much as they are if they weren’t friends with me?

Probably not.

Still, they haven’t kicked me to the curb. So I buy them extra nice gifts for New Year.

“Olivia, you’ll be fine.” Courtney’s rough voice is thick with sleep. “Go to the cigar room, it’ll be empty at this time.”

I flip onto my back. And I swear a little pee escapes me.

I huff up at the canopied roof of my bed.

“Where’s Serena?” I groan out the question through gritted teeth.

Asta’s answer is a smushed-pillow-murmur, “With your brother.”

I sit up, legs tangled. “Where?”

“I don’t know,” she groans and chucks a pillow.

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