I wish she’d just come out and say it, rather than edging along the outside like a beaten dog. “Why?”
“Well, they’re co-ed, too, and …” she trails off as she moves over to her desk, shuffling things around aimlessly. “I … I just …”
“You’re scared of the boys?”
She nods.
I open my mouth to mock her but think better of it. I mean, she’s sort of got a point if earlier was any indicator. She’s so goddamn timid, and she saw how Piers treated me after the fight with the ogre. If one of them decided to pick on her, she wouldn’t be able to fight back. I sigh. I really have no idea why she’s even here in the first place with an attitude like hers.
“Sure, yeah. I’ll be your bodyguard, I guess.” I look over her desk. “On one condition.”
Her face splits into a huge grin. “Yeah, yeah, anything!”
I feel my cheeks flush.
I point to one of her posters—a shirtless man dancing with rain pouring down around him—that vaguely resembles Sawyer. “You can keep all the rest, but take that one down.”
After our showers, we’re on our way back to the room when we run into an older man, one I remember from being onstage while Headmaster Novac gave us his speech.
Erin stops short when she sees him, as do I. He pauses to look us over.
“You ladies settling in all right in the dorms?” His voice is rough, like he’s eaten nothing but gravel for dinner. His face is wrinkled and scarred; one scar extends from his hairline straight down to his chin. His salt-and-pepper hair is thick and short, with a bald line where another scar shines through.
“Yes, sir,” Erin says timidly.
The man turns to look at me, squinting through a completely white eye. “You’re Avery Black.” He’s the picture of the life-long monster hunter, carrying with him the marks of battle.
“Yes.”
“Knew it before I heard them say your name. You’re the spitting image of Riley.” He looks me over again. “Risk-takers, that lot. Looks like you’re one, too. Hope you don’t turn out to be as bullheaded and reckless as they were … but usually, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
With that, he steps around me and walks past us.
Shocked, I glance at Erin, whose face is completely pale again. She takes a shaky hand and pushes some of her wet, wispy blonde hair away from her face.
“What the hell is his problem?” I ask loudly, glancing over my shoulder. The man has already disappeared.
“Oh, don’t mind him,” says a pleasant voice. I turn to see another woman I recognize from the headmaster’s speech heading toward us down the hall from the opposite direction. She smiles at me … something not many of the adults here seem to do very often. “That’s just Professor Helsing. He’s always like that.”
She holds her hand out, and I shake it. “Professor Eve Waldman, at your service.”
She smiles again. She’s got a decently pretty heart-shaped face. Her brown hair is graying at the roots, and she’s got it tied back in a loose bun. For a monster hunter herself, she’s surprisingly mark-free.
“I overheard a bit of that,” she says, glancing back where Professor Helsing left as well. “I knew your parents too, Avery. Risk-takers they might have been, but bullheaded? I don’t think that’s the case.”
“Uh, thanks.” I glance at Erin again, who’s looking at the floor. She seems to just want to get back to the room … and I don’t blame her. I still feel like I was hit by a truck, no, several trucks. It’s all I can do now to stand on my own two feet without Erin’s help.
Professor Waldman must be able to see that too, because she quickly bids us a good night. “Well, I’ll see you in class tomorrow,” she says warmly. “It’s almost time for curfew, and you’ll need your rest.”
Erin and I walk back to our room; she’s much more relaxed now that strangers aren’t trying to talk to her. I stop right outside and she steps in.
“You go on in. I’m going to call my aunt back home.”
Erin smiles. “I’ll take your shower stuff inside.”
I give her my towel and toiletry bag and she closes the door behind her. As soon as she does, I put my back to the wall and slide down to sit on the floor with my legs splayed out before me.
I turn my battered cell phone over in my hands. I only have a few roaming minutes, so I’ll have to make this call count. There’s probably some sort of landline I could use … but I’m really not the type to call home just to chat. I’m a terrible niece, I know, but it’s just who I am.