Page 33 of Forbidden Magic
Deep lines crease his forehead. “It’s school policy that any student with a head injury is to be seen by the doctor as soon as possible.”
“Anymortalstudent,” I add with sarcasm.
Mr. Osbourne’s eyes soften, and he looks to the ground for a second. “Yes. It’s seems unfair, I know. But you did great, Jules. Really. Flynn is one of the best in the ring, and you burnt an eyebrow.”
“I did?” I watch Flynn. He’s over by his supporters, celebrating his victory. The end of his white-blond eyebrow is slightly singed.
A grin glazes my lips until I see Jessa whispering in her prince’s ear. The sardonic smile stuck on Cole’s face rips a hole in my wounded pride.
I dust off my butt and huff, my breaths coming in uneven gusts.
Jeremy walks over to us. “I’ll take her to the infirmary, Mr. Oz.”
“Thank you, Jeremy. That’s really helpful.”
A beautiful, eerie song rises from the bleachers. “You know what’s easier to crack than an egg? Julia Winslow’s head,” Brie chants with her hypnotic mermaid voice, and the other students join the chorus of “mortals are fragile and squishy, but none of them bleed quite like Julia and Allie.”
They areamusedby my injury like it’s all a big joke. Likeweare a big joke, and they expect us to disappear like a bunny shoved back into a magician’s hat.
Acid simmers at the back of my throat, and I take note of the laughs, the dry snorts, the humiliating whistles. Everyone with a smile on their stupid immortal mouths better watch out.
I’ll show them. I’ll show all of them what fire can do to a pretty face.
Even a smooth, marble-like one.
I’ll show them howuglyI can be.
13
Under Pressure
“You can go back to class. I’m fine,” I say to Jeremy.
The wrestler-shaped werewolf trails behind me with both hands shoved in his Duel uniform’s pockets, the black Lycra stretched by his wolf-sized thighs. “I don’t mind.”
I pick up the pace, frustrated. Do students get special credits for escorting mortals to the infirmary or what?
The glass door of the dining hall closes behind us, and we climb upstairs to the infirmary tucked at the end of the corridor. It consists of four beds separated by faded-blue curtains, the doctor’s office, a bathroom, and a private room. It was open last time I was here, so I figure there’s someone in the bed right now.
A pink-clad girl hops to her feet, her 4-inch heels clacking against the linoleum. Those shoes aren’t up to code, but I’m learning that uniform indiscretions are mostly tolerated when they involve shoes or jackets. The girl’s pale skin and her garnet irises clue me in that she’s a vampire, but she’s literally the antithesis of Melanie. Her cinder-blond hair is separated in the middle, falling cleanly on each side of her face like she spends her days straightening it, and her lipstick spells bubblegum instead of queen of darkness.
“I’m Vivianne.” Her voice is high-pitched and melodic. She flips her hair behind her shoulder.
I mask a cringe. Gisèle Darko from senior year was a vicious hair flipper. I’ve learned to mistrust them all. “I’m Jules.”
“I know who you are,” she says with a scoff. From her grimace, I can tell she’s insulted that I would think otherwise.
Jeremy is still hovering, and I turn back to face him. “Why did they sing ‘none of them bleed like Julia and Allie?’ When did Allie bleed?” I ask Jeremy, thinking that if I can’t get peace, I’ll at least get information.
The werewolf turns green, his fists balled at his side. “I don’t know.”
Vivianne tilts her head to the side. “Bri meant that your sister Allie lost her virginity,” she mentions casually.
“What? That’s ridiculous.” Gossip travels faster here than at my old high school. Who knew adulthood meant dealing with more mean girls and jocks? It’s exactly the same except now they’re masquerading as young, responsible adults.
Vivianne quiets down. “Bri changed all the sheets in Queen Mab’s dorm one weekend. There was blood andsemenall over Allie’s bed.” The vampire’s face wrinkles in disgust.
I swallow against the roil in my stomach. “That’s a lie.” The words taste bitter still because I can’t back them with any type of certainty. Maybe Allie did lose her virginity here. Why would that be bad? It wouldn’t… Except the old Allie, my carefree sister with a big smile and an even bigger heart, would have told me.
