“Not even a little,” I confess.
“Well, I’ll show you to your room. You might as well enjoy today. Once word gets out that you’re on the reform track, your time here will be short.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She stops walking. “Raised in the human realm?”
“Maybe,” I say, starting to feel very exposed by all these questions. Each one seems to be making her bristle more.
She scoffs. “You won’t last a week.”
“Shows what you know,” I say. “Dean Wilcox bet on four.”
She laughs, tossing her head back as if it’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard. “That optimistic old sap is never right. If anything, that makes it even worse for you. He just goes for the long odds. Pays better.”
“Shouldn’t it be against the rules for teachers to be making bets on students?” I ask.
“Oh, sweetie, there are no rules here.”
My skin crawls at her words. What have I gotten myself into? And how am I going to get out of it?
She starts walking again.
I hurry to keep up with her. The sooner I got to my room, the better. I need time to think and figure things out. I also need to get out of these clothes.
“Dinner is at seven,” she says. “But if I were you, I’d wait till tomorrow. This will be your last night of freedom.”
“I lost my freedom when they sent me here,” I reply.
She shakes her head. “Once the head students see you, you’re pretty much fucked. They don’t like reform kids. Too desperate. And desperation is willing to take risks.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“The pass,” she says. “Surly you know about that.”
“Yes, that I know about,” I say.
“I’m guessing you want it. All the reform kids want it. But they never last long. The head students want it too. And they don’t play fair.” Em turns down a hall and I see plain brown doors on either side.
“Your room is at the end. Good luck,” she says, though she doesn’t sound like she means it.
She spins on her heels and walks away from me, leaving me alone in the long hallway.
I dig into the envelope and pull out the key. My room number is etched on the ancient looking piece of metal. With a deep breath, I walk toward my room.
I glance down again to double check the number and when I look back up, there’s someone standing in front of me. I don’t fully register the other person until after I’ve collided into her.
The envelope in my hand drops to the floor and the papers spill out. My key slides across the marble under the crack of another door. I look up. “So sorry,” I say as I scramble out of the way.
The girl staring at me bares her teeth and for a second, her blue eyes flash red. Or was that just in my head? Because I’m pretty sure that’s not possible. Unless it’s a demon thing. Which, I suppose it could be.
She narrows her eyes and shakes her head, her blonde ponytail bouncing with the movement.
“Watch where you’re going,” she hisses before pushing me hard.
“Hey, I said I was sorry,” I say.
“Do I look like I care?” she asks. “Now, get out of my way.”
I step to the side, mostly because I’ve got nothing left emotionally to fight someone right now.
The girl walks away and I’m left to pick up everything I dropped. I shove all the papers back in the envelope then crawl over to the door where I’d last seen the key. I peer under the crack and I can see the shadow of the key on the other side.
My fingers are too big to fit under the door so I slide the envelope under, trying to reach the key.
Shadows move under the crack and I know someone is in the room. I’m still on my hands and knees when the door opens.
“Well, well, well, isn’t this a lovely sight? I do enjoy seeing women beg,” a smooth male voice says. His words are awful, but I can’t help but feel a thrill go down my spine from the sound of his voice. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever heard. If arousal had a voice, it would sound like this.
I look up and my jaw drops as I stare at the face of the sexiest man I’ve ever seen in my life.