“Seems cagey,” Erin sniffs.
“Well, you are just a random student asking questions,” Sawyer says reasonably. I hate when he’s being reasonable.
“No, she’s not!” Erin snaps at him. “She’s asking the man who last saw her parents alive what happened the night they died! She has a right to know!”
Sawyer holds up his hands in a sign of surrender.
“Yelling at each other isn’t going to help us figure it out.” I yawn and get to my feet, stepping over Sawyer’s legs to get to my bed. Cleaver hops up with me as I lay down. “Do you think there’s anything left for breakfast?”
“I’ll go get you guys some coffee,” Sawyer says, standing up. As he leaves, I’m struck with the memory of my Saturdays with Owen before Christmas break. I close my eyes and turn my head so that Erin can’t see my face.
I really thought I was getting close to him. Piers, too. Even Bennett. We usually sat in companionable silence, but sometimes, that’s the best. All of that’s gone now. I lift my hand and wiggle my fingers a little.
Things are worse than ever.
And come Monday, things aren’t much better.
The obstacle course isn’t my friend. Not now that my hand is royally fucked up.
I manage the first lap through it without too much trouble. After a full week of this, I’ve figured out ways of doing things that don’t rely much on my left hand. Now, if the boys would just leave me alone, I could probably work through this.
But I know that isn’t going to happen as soon as I spot Piers right ahead of me on the climbing ropes. He glances down at me with a savage grin just as I look up. No, I think as his foot dislodges from the rope. Please.
His foot slides quickly down and smashes into the fingers of my right hand, my only good hand. I cry out, lose my grip and subsequently my balance. I fall back and slam hard into the ground.
“BLACK!” shouts Davies’ voice. Piers slides down the rope.
I groan and try to roll over, but everything hurts; my hand, my back, my head.
“Dagher, what happened?” Davies snaps as she jogs up.
“I’m so sorry, Professor!” Piers says, sounding distressed. But he glances at me, and I see a smirk flicker across his face. “My foot slipped, and I—it was an accident!”
Davies looks down at me, and a look of her own flickers across her face. “She needs to go to the infirmary.”
“No,” I groan. “I’m fine.”
I try to get up, but Owen leans closer, pretending to try to get a better look at my right hand. He grinds the fingers of my left hand—the bitten hand—into the dirt with the toe of his shoe while he does it.
I can’t help by cry out, and that does it.
“You most certainly are not,” Davies says. “Dagher, help me.”
Together, they scoop me up. Piers holds me princess-style, one arm under my back, the other under my legs. His thick shirt is damp with sweat. If I wasn’t so utterly furious with him, I’d lament the days when they used to practice without one.
“Take her to the infirmary,” she snaps. “Do you need help carrying her?”
“I’ve got it, Professor. It’s my fault, anyway.” And he starts off toward the school.
“You’re an asshole,” I groan as we walk. He grins down at me. His face is very close.
“Yeah? And you’re a cheater. How’s your hand?”
I don’t reply. We head to the infirmary in silence.
The school has a lot of nurses, but it’s the head nurse who receives me. “Put her over here,” she commands Piers, and he carefully lays me on a cot. “What happened?”
“My foot slipped on a climbing rope, and I—I kicked her off. I didn’t mean to!” Again, I see him smirk at me when the nurse isn’t looking.