Page 53 of Cruel Saints (Lochkelvin Academy)

I blink at him. “What do you mean?”

“Take Arabella… She’s easy tae bait. Easy tae wind up. Remind her that she’s related tae the headmistress and that usually shuts her uptight arse down. But you, sassenach?” He pauses, looking at me thoughtfully. “The shy American. No matter whit we dae, ye dinnae react. Ye dinnae fight back. Are ye even alive in there? Are ye still tryin’ tae be a good little saint? I cannae figure ye oot, Jessa.” Whenever Finlay says my name in that warm Scottish brogue, I swear my stomach does a backflip. “How far are we gonnae have tae go before ye start noticing us?” He frowns. “We’re all trying very hard. Ye’ve even got Rory obsessed.”

I swallow, trying to take in all this unexpected information. Rory — obsessed with getting my attention? “I notice you,” I tell Finlay quietly, and his lips turn up at the corners slightly.

Finlay pops another chocolate into his mouth, as though in victory. “Maybe ye’re like a chocolate-covered toffee,” he muses. “The hardest chocolates tae crack are the sweetest.”

It’s difficult to figure out if Finlay’s joking or not when he says things like this. But I’ve decided that the best way to handle him is to take him at his word.

“Why are you even talking to me? You thought I trashed your dorm.”

He gives me a small smile. “I dunno, man. Ye were willin’ tae dob in Arabella. Went against the groupthink. I find that interestin’. So far ye’ve refused tae confess when Rory’s followers have tried their hardest.” He rolls another chocolate between his colorful inked fingers. I notice the box is practically empty now. “At the end o’ the day, it’s just stuff. I can get mair stuff tae replace it.”

I can’t quite believe what I’m hearing. That guitar alone looked as though it cost a bomb.

“That night… I’ve been turnin’ it over in my head. I’m no’ sure ye did it after all, or maybe I just don’t want ye tae have done it. Ye’ve been pretty adamant it wasnae you.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “The other chiefs believe I did it.”

“Ye know I’m no’ Luke or Rory.” There’s a grimness to his expression, a seriousness that reminds me of every argument Rory and Finlay have had. “I just figured… we called ye a saint, and saints wouldnae act like that. So.” He shrugs. “Maybe it wasnae you.” There’s a pause, and he holds out the box. “Anyway,” he says, offering the chocolates out to me. There are three left. “You were demandin’mair?”

I pick up a small chocolate decorated with pink glitter and nibble on the corner to check that Finlay hasn’t poisoned it. But no, it tastes divine. “I want you to keep your little gremlins under control.”

Finlay raises an eyebrow. “Gremlins?”

“The kids you boss around. The ones terrorizing me and Danny.”

“Ah.” There’s a more subdued look to Finlay when I mention them. “That’s Rory’s area o’ expertise, no’ mine. He likes havin’ his minions around.”

“Why?”

“Well, why else dae ye think Rory’s been on the rampage? He’s threatened.”

I blink, not understanding Finlay’s meaning. “Threatened byme?” How can he still be threatened by me? I’ve been at Lochkelvin forweeksnow. You’d think he’d get a hobby and just get over it.

But Finlay smiles slightly, a hint of sadness to it. “By Danny.”

* * *

Because being a girl in Lochkelvin wasn’t bad enough, I also have to have my physical weaknesses signposted by a pair of crutches. For the most part, the gremlins ignore me. I’d expected to be tripped up and laughed at, but the worst they do is mimic me and call mecrutch cunt. I’m not even sure what that’s supposed to mean, but the lack of physical retaliation makes me oddly nervous. I have to wonder what Rory told them — or what Finlay told Rory.

Danny assists me as I practice how to walk. My lower leg feels completely dead, like it’s not even part of my body. It just dangles there, useless and numb and unfeeling.

The gremlins don’t stop their attacks on Danny. If anything, it seems even worse than before. The only part of Danny that remains undamaged is his face, and I imagine that’s only so he can pass without note from the teachers. I promise him that I’ll speak to Rory. This nonsense has to end.

“Sure, aye. That’ll help.” There’s sarcasm there, dark and glittering. I’ve become better at detecting it now that I’m firmly embedded in Lochkelvin. Danny sighs, inspecting a fist-sized bruise on his forearm. Where Finlay had the most beautiful colorful patterns, a dull purple-brown splodge decorates Danny’s arm.

“Here you go,” Danny says as he escorts me to detention. Because yes, falling down a ravine and missing the majority of PEisa detentionable offense at Lochkelvin. “I’ll meet you at ten.”

His face is grim and drawn, and I wonder what horrors await him when he goes back to his dorm. My heart pangs for him.

“Stay in my room,” I murmur, fishing out the key from my satchel. “They won’t get you there.”

But Danny just laughs. “We’re trying tostopyou getting detention every night, remember? I don’t think me being in your room will do much to help that.”

“There are more important things than detention.”

“No. I need to do this. I’m not going to back down from them.”

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