Page 42 of The Kiss Of Death
A jarring crash shattered the air. My muscles tensed, and my heart raced within the confines of my chest. The tray hitting the ground had transformed into a deafening explosion, each clang reverberating in my ears.
I was transported back to the gunshot, to the last time I saw Mom’s face. The air grew thick, and my breaths quickened into shallow gasps.
“Are you okay, Dalia?”
I forced air in and out of my lungs in ragged inhalations.
“Just startled,” I managed to say, swallowing my crystal glass of water in one go.
“You’re ghostly white. Are you sure—”
“Yes,” I cut her off, my knuckles white from gripping my fork tightly. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry. I abandoned you on Hazing Night, because I couldn’t stand up to my sister. I’ve been a terrible friend, but I’ve made a list of how I could make it up to you. First—”
I turned around to see who had caused the commotion, and I wasn’t surprised to spot Levi next to the person whose tray was now in pieces, a first-year Tactician student, as the majordomo was cleaning the mess. Levi’s eyes were fixed on me. Did he do this? Was it some kind of test? It reminded me of the day after the hazing when two second-year Tacticians quit on their own, which caused their house to lose five points; it could only be the handiwork of this bully. Yet he had left me alone since then, only stalking me, watching me, as if he wanted to strangle me.
I turned back to Yasmine, who was still listing off items on her phone. “Fourth, because I’m socially anxious but a gifted academic nerd, to be more involved in our House Cup. Five—”
I chuckled. “Don’t worry, Yas, you have nothing to feel bad about. We’ve both come a long way from being scared little mice hiding in our holes. Now, we’re more like mice ready to face their hunters’ cats.”
“More like you’ve got a predatory eagle eyeing you down, ready to snatch you. And I have a whole family of Komodo Dragons breathing down my neck, waiting to roast me alive,” she quipped—meaning Levi and her sister.
As we spoke, a man stepped onto the long table, the blue Guardian’s emblem painted on his cheeks. “Go, Guardians!”
Yasmine and I exchanged glances and exited the cafeteria to make our way north along the riverbank, the orange leaves crunching beneath our steps. The first rowing competition of the year, pitting the four houses against each other, was about to start.
The sun hung low in the sky, casting long, slanting shadows across the riverbank. The coxswains, perched at the stern of each boat, awaited the sound of the starting pistol. The grassy field lay divided with students sporting dark gray tweed blazers accented by stripes of blue, purple, green, or yellow along the collar. Most Pioneers clutched Pantheon’s renowned vanilla beers, a traditional drink before a sporting event. Reaching our spot among the Unifiers, we settled onto the damp grass. I loved that rainy smell.
Tara, not surprisingly, was the leader of the Pioneers. The Guardians chanted their anthems—they were unbeatable on the water. Tacticians were led by Kay—one of Levi’s friends—who was gunning eyes at Sylas as if he wanted to sink his canoe.
“Go, Sylas!” Yas waved.
Sylas didn’t get the chance to wave back because the pistol fired. The rowers dug their oars into the water with synchronized precision, their shells slicing through the waves.The first leg of the race was a grueling straightaway as each team fought to take the lead.
Guardians took the lead first, their powerful strokes propelling them forward, followed by the Pioneers—led by their coxswain Tara, barking commands, urging her team not to “be pussies.” The Unifiers gradually closed the gap, and the Tacticians fought on their boat, showing no team spirit.
“Go, Unifiers,” Yas and I cheered, our voices drowned out by the loud cheers of the Pioneers.
Hardly any Tacticians bothered to show up. But one unmistakable figure among them didn’t bother to sit on the grass like the rest of us. Levi stood aloof and gazing in the opposite direction of the race, utterly unconcerned that his posture was obstructing the view of the people behind him.
My phone beeped.
Unknown: I hope you didn’t think I had forgotten about you, little thief?
I ignored his message and focused back on the race.
“Go, Sylas!” I rose on my feet, clutching my gray skirt firmly to prevent it from billowing in the wind.
The race entered its middle stretch. The river’s placid surface churned into frothy turmoil, the coxswains’ voices ringing out over the water.
Unknown: Cheering for another man? Aren’t you bold?
An amused smile tugged at my lips.
Me: You should focus on your team. You’re losing.
I tucked my phone in my skirt pocket. In a heart-pounding climax, the Unifiers’ and Guardians’ shells raced side by side toward the finish line, oars flashing in the waning light, the boats crossing the line almost together.
