Page 17 of Lethal

“Dining hall. Dorms. Gardens—that way. More toilets. Recreation room. Any questions?”

“Yes—”

“Too late.” She starts to turn.

This time, I grab her by the shoulder and force her to look at me. “Where is our room?”

A frustrated guttural sound emanates from her throat. “This way.”

This time, I create a mental picture of where Laila leads me. We’re five doors down from the end of the hall with the recreation room to my back. There are no stickers or posters on our door, unlike the others, but I notice a few discoloured squares that look suspiciously like some have recently been removed.

I wonder if that’s because of Dina’s recent death.

“Looks like Octavia brought your luggage,” Laila says. “Lucky you.”

One side of the room is spartan, and the other side is completely goth. It’s like Gerard Way threw up on Laila’s half. There’s even a black lace curtain hanging down over her single bed.

We also have a small kitchenette with a kettle, toaster, microwave, and stove. The table and chairs are a cute set with a black lace tablecloth over the top.

“I love it,” I say.

“Look, just don’t drink my oat milk. Keep out of my way. Do not look under my bed.” She folds her arms and glares at me.

“What’s under your bed?” I make my eyes big. “Thegateway to hell? Every member of the band Cradle of Filth locked in a cage for you to have your way with?”

When Laila rolls her eyes this time, I could swear there’s a hint of amusement in them. Or maybe I’m being overconfident about my comedy skills.

She smiles, and it’s frankly terrifying, like her muscles have never moved in that direction before. “Why don’t I leave you to get settled in?” As she’s on her way to the door, she looks over her shoulder. “And I mean it. Don’t look under my bed. I’ll know if you do.”

Then she’s gone.

I take a step towards Laila’s side of the room, and then I stop. This is a magical academy, and Laila is a witch. She could have some sort of charm on the room, enabling her to watch my every move. My eyes roam the length of the room, then I laugh at myself. I’m not going toseewhatever spell she’s enchanted the room with. It’s not like there’s going to be a visible camera glued to the wall.

While she’s gone, I get on with unpacking. Laila is definitely a cold fish, but she did come back to find me, and shedidgive me the—extremely reluctant—tour around the school. I guess that means she has a backbone, and somewhere, buried deep, deep down, she cares.

My belongings are woefully scant. There’s clearly a tendency to show a lot of personality here, but I didn’t think to grab any of my posters. I have a few stuffed toys, but they look extremely childish next to Laila’s goth paradise. There are also no shops on this island as far as I know, and I wonder what happens with online shopping.

Do we magic the parcels here? That would be extremely cool.

“Knock, knock.”

I’m so relieved to see Cooper standing in the doorway that I almost walk over and throw my arms over his shoulders. His friendly grin is a balm soothing the roughness Laila left behind.

“Hey,” I say.

“Settling in okay? How’s Laila?”

I take a step closer and lower my voice. “I… I think she’s watching me. She’s not here, but I still feel like her eyes are following me.”

“Ah.” He grins. “She does tend to leave that sensation. She’s pretty intense.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

He laughs. “Oh, and I brought you your school uniform.”

I take the two paper bags he holds out. “Wow, that was fast. I didn’t leave anyone my size.” I place them on my bed.

“Octavia’s pretty good at this stuff. And, well, we use magic.” He pulls his messenger bag around to his front and opens it. “I have a schedule for you too. You officially start tomorrow.”

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