Page 96 of A Heart of Bluestone

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I run my tongue over my teeth.

One grade away from a fail.

I’m just counting down the hours until a phone call comes in for me. Father’s going to have a conniption.

But my mood plummets to the pits of hell when, at the end of the week, I’m descending the stairs to the atrium—and a scream splits the air behind me.

Stumbling into the banister, I stagger around to glare up at the landing above. About six, maybe seven students come barrelling out of the corridor, then scramble onto whatever podiums or steps they can reach.

My insides turn cold.

A first year clammers onto the very banister I lean my weight on, further up, hanging off the edge.

Before I can wonder why, before that question can frown my face or tilt my head, it comes tearing out in two thick, green waves.

Green water rushes from the two corridors above, like violent waves roar up at the face of a cliff. But the water is tainted. Stained green, a neon shade that stinks of cheese and fresh sick.

Griffin bile.

The fright cuts through me in a gasp.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I scramble for the banister and make to hoist myself up. “Oh, fuckkk.”

The waves collide on the landing—then turn on the stairs.

Thick, bright green waves roll down the staircase like it’s been projected by a fucking rocket.

I slip from the banister.

A cry shoves out of me before I scramble for it again.

Splashes of the bile hit the legs of my tights. I feel the burn, like acid that’s been sprayed from a distance. I know the burn will fade, the sores will heal after a week of salves, but the tights will be ruined.

It’s the shoes I’m worried about.

I get a grip on the wood of the barrier and press my midsection into it. The bite is sharp on my ribs. My shoes slip on the steps, but I push up—just as the fluorescent green wave comes thundering past me.

My inhale is sharp.

I dangle off the banister, but my Mary-Janes were hit.

I feel the bile leak into the soles of my shoes. Then the burn ignites, and a cry ribbons out of me.

The pain throws me over the edge of the banister, like I can get away from it, scramble and run. It follows me, poisonous flames lashing at my feet, and I topple over the edge of the banister.

The ground rushes up to meet me.

Distantly, I hear a cry, a shout—then a thump. Someone else fell. Someone else landed on the floor. And I can’t be convinced they didn’t break bones on landing.

I brace myself.

Arms crossed around my head, a scream splits me—

I land with a bounce.

My lashes flutter on white.

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