especially with all these people around.”
“Oh, come on,” Owen retorts. “Percy stopped them. Besides, they know what they’re doing. They’re KORT members!”
“See?” Bri says. “It’s a good thing to be related to the president. Then everyone likes you.”
“Well, not everyone,” Jack says, pointing to the other end of the dining hall.
Still fanning my tongue, I look over my shoulder and find myself locking gazes with the haughty Jennifer, who appears to have been ditched by my brother.
“Beautiful people don’t like it when others become the center of attention,” Jack whispers.
“Not Jennifer,” Owen retorts. “She’s a true angel!”
As I watch the blonde girl strut out of the room, I have a feeling that Owen may be delusional.
Classes starting at seven, we leave the dining hall the moment we hear the church bells ring the hour. I relegate the fight to the deepest recesses of my mind, willing the whole incident never to have occurred—if only to keep my sanity for a while longer.
As we make our way up another narrow staircase, the sunlight filters through the slitted windows, crisscrossing the steps like a bar code.
“I still can’t believe you know so many people from KORT!” Owen says, jumping up a couple of steps. “I mean, even regular knights don’t usually bother with us, unless it’s for chores.”
“Morgan!”
We all pause to find my roommate, Keva, descending the steps toward us. Panting, she stops a step above me and hands me a bag.
“Your books,” she says. “You forgot to bring them with you.”
Staring incredulously at her, I grab the heavy bag and hoist it onto my back. “Uh…thanks?”
“Maybe if you hadn’t shut her up in the dark, she wouldn’t have forgotten,” Bri says.
The two girls stare at each other for a long moment, and I worry they’re going to go for each other’s throats, when Keva smiles.
“That was an accident,” she says, and she pushes Bri away to stand next to me.
As we make our way down the third floor, I notice people stop in their tracks to stare at me and whisper behind their hands. I feel myself turn crimson, and I accelerate my pace.
We find the rest of the class already seated, though no teacher in sight.
“What happened to Boris?” Keva calls out, dumping her books on the first desk next to the windows.
“How should I know?” a portly boy with a big nose retorts. “Hey, who’s the tall girl with you? Is she some half giant you’ve brought for a presentation?”
The boy and his two friends snort out in laughter.
“Daniel, if you can’t come up with better insults, you may as well shut up. Besides,” Keva adds as I find a seat near the back, “she’s Arthur’s sister, so you better keep your tongue extra civil.”
“Oh yeah?” Daniel says, turning in his seat so he can see me. “How come I’ve never heard of her? Maybe she’s so dumb her family was afraid to show her in public!”
I ignore the jab and pretend to be looking through my books.
“Of course that’s not why,” Keva says, complacent. “Otherwise she wouldn’t have been allowed here. Right, Morgan?”
I sink lower into my seat, wishing she wouldn’t involve me. What am I supposed to say? That they only brought me in after I was accused of killing one of my old classmates?
“I’m just his half sister,” I say instead.
Smiling, Keva draws closer to me, a well-worn notepad open in her hands. “So tell me, what toothpaste does he use? And what’s his soap brand? Does he wear slippers or go barefoot? And what about bedtime?”
“What about bedtime?” I ask.
“Well, what does he wear?” Keva asks, sitting on top of my desk. “Pajamas or the more common shorts and T-shirt? Or better yet”— she lowers her voice to a loud whisper—“does he sleep in the nude?”
“How should I know?” I say, pulling away. “It’s not like I sleep with him.”
“But you live with him,” Keva says.
“As of yesterday,” I
“Oh, come on,” Owen retorts. “Percy stopped them. Besides, they know what they’re doing. They’re KORT members!”
“See?” Bri says. “It’s a good thing to be related to the president. Then everyone likes you.”
“Well, not everyone,” Jack says, pointing to the other end of the dining hall.
Still fanning my tongue, I look over my shoulder and find myself locking gazes with the haughty Jennifer, who appears to have been ditched by my brother.
“Beautiful people don’t like it when others become the center of attention,” Jack whispers.
“Not Jennifer,” Owen retorts. “She’s a true angel!”
As I watch the blonde girl strut out of the room, I have a feeling that Owen may be delusional.
Classes starting at seven, we leave the dining hall the moment we hear the church bells ring the hour. I relegate the fight to the deepest recesses of my mind, willing the whole incident never to have occurred—if only to keep my sanity for a while longer.
As we make our way up another narrow staircase, the sunlight filters through the slitted windows, crisscrossing the steps like a bar code.
“I still can’t believe you know so many people from KORT!” Owen says, jumping up a couple of steps. “I mean, even regular knights don’t usually bother with us, unless it’s for chores.”
“Morgan!”
We all pause to find my roommate, Keva, descending the steps toward us. Panting, she stops a step above me and hands me a bag.
“Your books,” she says. “You forgot to bring them with you.”
Staring incredulously at her, I grab the heavy bag and hoist it onto my back. “Uh…thanks?”
“Maybe if you hadn’t shut her up in the dark, she wouldn’t have forgotten,” Bri says.
The two girls stare at each other for a long moment, and I worry they’re going to go for each other’s throats, when Keva smiles.
“That was an accident,” she says, and she pushes Bri away to stand next to me.
As we make our way down the third floor, I notice people stop in their tracks to stare at me and whisper behind their hands. I feel myself turn crimson, and I accelerate my pace.
We find the rest of the class already seated, though no teacher in sight.
“What happened to Boris?” Keva calls out, dumping her books on the first desk next to the windows.
“How should I know?” a portly boy with a big nose retorts. “Hey, who’s the tall girl with you? Is she some half giant you’ve brought for a presentation?”
The boy and his two friends snort out in laughter.
“Daniel, if you can’t come up with better insults, you may as well shut up. Besides,” Keva adds as I find a seat near the back, “she’s Arthur’s sister, so you better keep your tongue extra civil.”
“Oh yeah?” Daniel says, turning in his seat so he can see me. “How come I’ve never heard of her? Maybe she’s so dumb her family was afraid to show her in public!”
I ignore the jab and pretend to be looking through my books.
“Of course that’s not why,” Keva says, complacent. “Otherwise she wouldn’t have been allowed here. Right, Morgan?”
I sink lower into my seat, wishing she wouldn’t involve me. What am I supposed to say? That they only brought me in after I was accused of killing one of my old classmates?
“I’m just his half sister,” I say instead.
Smiling, Keva draws closer to me, a well-worn notepad open in her hands. “So tell me, what toothpaste does he use? And what’s his soap brand? Does he wear slippers or go barefoot? And what about bedtime?”
“What about bedtime?” I ask.
“Well, what does he wear?” Keva asks, sitting on top of my desk. “Pajamas or the more common shorts and T-shirt? Or better yet”— she lowers her voice to a loud whisper—“does he sleep in the nude?”
“How should I know?” I say, pulling away. “It’s not like I sleep with him.”
“But you live with him,” Keva says.
“As of yesterday,” I
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