Zian walks a little ahead of me all the way back to the townhouse, but I can tell from the tension in his muscles that he’s tracking every move I make. As he strides up the three steps to the front door, a voice calls out to us.
“Hey, neighbors!”
It’s the tall, redheaded girl from next door: Brooke. She’s sitting at the patio table set up in the lane between our townhouse and hers, a textbook open in front of her, but at the sight of us, she gets up, flashing a bright smile.
As she ambles over, I freeze in place and then propel myself on up to the door, taking the steps at a pace I hope looks casual. I push my mouth into my best distantly friendly smile. “Hi.”
Brooke comes to a stop beside our steps and sets her hands on her hips. “I realized I never got your names.”
Her gaze flicks to Zian but quickly comes back to me, as if it was mine she was most interested in.
My smile starts to feel stiff, but I hold it up anyway. One of the names I memorized to toss out easily, similar to my own but common enough not to make me stand out, tumbles automatically from my mouth. “Rita. Sorry.”
She laughs, but her attention still lingers on me. “It’s okay. You were busy moving in yesterday.”
“I’m Zack,” Zian says gruffly, giving his own alias.
“Nice to meet you both. Are you getting settled in all right?”
“Yep!” I say in an attempt at sounding cheerful. “Just had our first class.”
Brooke grins. “Looks like the prof didn’t go too hard on you. What’s your major?”
“Sociology.” It’s the only answer that makes sense, although I don’t know what other classes we might end up sitting in on.
Then it occurs to me that I should probably return the question, since that’s how small talk works. I’m so out of practice after getting nothing but grunts from my keepers at the fighting arena for four years. “How about you?”
“Double-major in History and Economics. You probably have some overlap! It’s pretty amazing looking at society as a whole and all the crazy things we get up to, huh?”
“Yeah,” I say, and wince inwardly with the suspicion that my agreement came out sounding weak. “It is,” I add with a little more oomph.
She’d probably have enjoyed that sociology lecture. Suddenly I find myself wondering what it’d have been like to be sitting next to her, sharing observations about the professor’s remarks.
Not that Icouldhave shared with her even half of the things I’d have thought about.
Brooke tips her head to the side. “You know, Rita, a bunch of us are having a bit of a girl’s night at my place tonight if you want to stop by and get to know some more people on campus. It’ll be fun, nothing too crazy.”
My brain stalls for a second. I’ve never been in a position before where I had people giving me personal invitations—people I expected to see again after I talked to them now.
I don’t want to give any of the students here more chance to realize there’s something off about me. But will it look suspicious if I say no?
My mouth opens and closes as I grope for my answer—and then the door to our townhouse whips open.
Jacob stands on the threshold, his bright blue eyes searing into me. “Let’s get going,” he says to both me and Zian in a sharp voice. “We’ve got work to do. You’re holding us up.”
I restrain a flinch at his tone, but he’s given me the perfect exit. “Thanks, but sorry,” I say to Brooke. “I’ve got a bunch of catching up to get through, but maybe another time.”
I catch a glimpse of her brow knitting before I follow Zian inside.
The second the door thumps shut behind me, Jacob snatches my arm, his fingers digging in. “Don’t even fucking try it,” he snaps.
I stare at him. “What are you talking about? You asked me to come in, so I did.”
He jerks his hand toward the front steps. “That whole weirdo routine with the girl next door. I guess you’re trying to make her suspicious to sabotage our plans?”
I sputter a guffaw. “Are you fucking kidding me? I was tryingnotto make her suspicious. College students talk to each other.”
At least, they have in all the shows I’ve seen. Brooke seemed to think it’s normal.