26
The next morning, Rook insists we head upstairs to the cafeteria for breakfast.
“I was planning to hide out here,” I say, covering my head with the pillow and praying he won’t make me leave our safe little bubble.
“For how long?”
“I don’t know. Until I’m ninety.”
He snorts and tugs on the blanket. We stayed up late, finishing what we started, and though I’m being petulant right now, I’m also glowing from the inside out. I snatch the edge of the sheet to stop him from exposing me to the cold air. “Don’t you dare. I will drop-kick you into Tuesday.”
“You’re so cute when you threaten bodily harm.”
I glare up at him, noting the cut on his brow.
He told me the Patrol locked him up for a few nights after the Extinguishers arrested me.
They roughed him up a little, but they had no true reason to hold him, so he was released with a few new scratches and bruises.
I think of the promise I extracted from my father and realize I might have him to thank for that.
“You think you’re so tough,” I say, and he grins before leaning down, pressing his big body against mine, and pushing back a lock of my hair.
“What are you afraid of?”
I shrug. “I’m tired of being judged by them. I was already one of their favorite sources of gossip, but now with this whole trial thing, they have so much more ammunition.”
“You were cleared.”
“Like that matters.” I pause. “And besides, we are lying.”
“With a valid reason, and they don’t know that. Anyway, people are on your side.”
I huff out a breath of tepid agreement.
“I think it must have helped with your trial. Public sentiment swung in your favor, and they cleared you to prove they aren’t just randomly accusing innocent people.”
“Do you think Sol is responsible for that?”
“It would make sense. I guess that’s what she was doing when she left us in the Veil.”
I don’t answer, still not convinced I ever want to leave this room.
“Henry’s running a training session for second-year cadets this afternoon,” Rook says. “Are you planning to skip that, too?”
“Maybe,” I say, and he rolls his eyes.
“I had no idea you could be so dramatic, Poet Graves.”
I snort a wry laugh. “You know exactly how dramatic I can be.”
He smiles brightly and leans in to kiss me. “That’s true. It’s one of the things I love about you.”
I glow even brighter at those words, like I’ve swallowed drops of sunshine. It feels good to be loved. For real this time. Not Knox’s brand of faux ownership. Nor my father’s brand of exerting control.
“I like being alone in this room with you,” I say softly. “Can’t we just do this forever?”
His smile turns catlike. “I mean, I’ll stay in this bed with you until the end of time.
Gladly.” He rolls me over and gives my butt a firm slap.
I yelp-laugh as my stomach tightens and warmth tingles down my thighs.
“But eventually, someone will come looking for us. You want your parents to see you like this? Hair mussed. Lips swollen. You’re a fucking goddess. ”
I scoff. “I don’t care anymore.”
He tips his head, his expression softening. “You know that isn’t true.”
I nod, my hair rustling against the pillow. “I’m dreading dinner with them. Is that a terrible thing to say?”
“They betrayed your trust. Abandoned you when you needed them over something completely trivial.”
“I’m surprised they want to see me at all. Though it was my mother who asked. I could tell my father wanted to object.”
“None of this is your fault,” he says. “You know that, right?”
“I guess.” I sit up and peer out the window, watching the clouds gather. “I want to ask my dad why he didn’t turn Raine or me in. I just can’t figure it out.”
“I’ll come with you,” Rook says. “To dinner. I can be your buffer.”
“I can’t ask you to do that. I refuse to subject you to whatever they might say or do.”
“I’ll be fine,” he says. “I can handle it.”
I shake my head. “You shouldn’t have to handle anything. Though I do wish they could get to know you as I do. To see how good and brave you are.”
He sinks onto the edge of the bed. “Then let me come.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Perfect. Let me know when.”
“I said I’ll think about it.”
“I know, which means I’m coming.” I offer him another glare, and he laughs, then says, “Now, get your cute ass out of this bed. I’m starving.”
“Fine,” I say, grumbling and huffing while I change.
A short while later, we enter the cafeteria hand in hand. Rook squeezes my fingers as we stand at the entrance, and dozens of eyes swing our way. The whispers start immediately.
More people have returned than I anticipated. The new class of first-years won’t arrive for a few more weeks, so for now, it’s just those of us in second and third year.
I sigh. “I told you this would happen,” I say in a low voice.
Rook is casual, though, his posture loose. Ever the confident predator.
“Because they’re obsessed with us,” he says. “Come on.”
Then he’s leading me to the edge of the room. It’s quiet as we start filling our plates. After a moment, the swell of conversation slowly resumes.
By the time we’re done, everyone is talking again, but I don’t miss the sneaky glances directed our way.
“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Rook asks. I shake my head, and we make our way toward Domino and Journey, who are waving us over. We have no choice but to walk past a table of House Fiama students.
Including Knox.
I come to a halt as our gazes meet. His left arm is in a cast, and a faded scar slices across his cheek.
Jackson and Sal sit across from him, both watching me with guilty expressions.
I’m not sure what to say to any of them.
In the end, Jackson and Sal did try to help us by switching sides at the last possible moment. I wonder if anyone realized.
But Knox.
He tried to stop us.
He tried to kill me.
He hurt Rook in the process.
Then he chased us down to the very edge of the city.
If he’d caught us, what then? Would he have delivered me into the hands of the Extinguishers? Or finished me off himself?
I squeeze the edges of my tray while Rook touches the small of my back. “You don’t have to talk to him.”
“I feel like I should say something.”
“Do it if you want to, but you don’t owe him anything.”
The decision is made for me when Knox rises from his seat, and it’s obvious he has something to say. Rook remains by my side as Knox does his best to saunter despite the limp in his step.
“Poet,” he says, then quickly glances at Rook. “I heard you were back after your little escape attempt.”
My entire body turns rigid with tension. “I heard you were still alive.”
“No thanks to your boyfriend.”
“You were chasing us,” I say. “You didn’t have to help them.”
“And let a Keeper go free?” he snarls. “My duty is to The Shield.”
I shake my head. “I’m not a Keeper. I just went through an entire trial proving I’m innocent.”
Knox spreads his hands in a helpless gesture. “And how was I supposed to know that?”
“You’ve known me all our lives. You could have trusted me. Sided with me.”
I vowed never to cry in front of him again. Knox is finished being the reason for any of my tears.
He stares at me, eyes me up, then scoffs. “You weren’t worth the risk.”
Then he turns and walks away, leaving me trembling. With rage. With shame. With the recollection of how much he hurt me . . . and that I kept letting him get away with it.
“Come and sit,” Rook says in a low voice. “Ignore him.”
We cross the room to join Domino and Journey.
I slam my tray down and stare at it for several seconds while they all wait for me to pull myself together.
Domino stretches a hand across the table, and I look up to meet her kind gaze.
It snaps me out of my spiral, reminding me where I am and that the way Knox treated me was never my fault.
I pick up my fork and dig into my noodles, stuffing a huge bite into my mouth.
“That’s better,” Rook says. “You know he has nothing left but to insult you with things that aren’t even true.”
I know he’s right. It wasn’t long ago that Knox claimed he was in love with me that night at Sogno. Rook presses his nose to the curve under my ear. Knox doesn’t matter at all. Rook is the one who matters. The one I’m giving my heart to.
“Aww,” Domino says. She has her hands clasped under her chin and her head tilted as she bats her lashes at us. “I’m so happy for you.”
Journey makes a similar face, and I toss my napkin in their direction. “Stop it, both of you.”
They giggle, and I shake off the encounter with Knox as Domino fills us in on her plans to run for the student society council, hoping to become a student leader in our third year.
Devon and Stevie have graduated and are continuing their training with the Storm Guard.
Soon, they’ll be replaced by new leaders, and people are already campaigning for their spots.
“That would shake things up,” Rook says. “Has there ever been a student leader who isn’t Society-born?”
They all look at me. “I doubt it,” I say. “I think it’s a fantastic idea. It’s about time.”
“I hate to ask this,” Domino says, “and you can say no, but it would go a long way to have your public endorsement.”
“Me?” I say. “I don’t think that will help. My family disowned me.”
“You’re still Society-born, and you’re still Poet Graves,” she says firmly.
“None of that has changed. Despite what everyone whispers about you, they still want to be you. If anything, you’re .
. . a hero. You chose what you wanted over what was expected of you.
You were a victim of a false accusation, yet you survived. You’re a symbol of courage.”
I scan the room, noting numerous sideways glances. I just don’t think they’re looking at me for the reasons Domino claims.
“If you believe it will help, I’m happy to do anything,” I say, and Domino grins.
“Perfect. Thank you.”
At that moment, I notice Silver and Hazel approaching.
I tense up, clutching my fork. Without preamble, they both drop into the seats across from each other. “Poe!” Silver says, leaning over to wrap me in a one-armed hug. “We’re so glad you’re back. We were so worried about you.”
“You were?”
“Of course!” Hazel says. “After Trin ratted you out, we couldn’t believe it. We always knew she was a jealous bitch, but to go to such lengths for a bit of Extinguisher approval? Absolutely pathetic.”
“Hmm,” I say, refusing to react.
“Can you believe she’s friends with that monster?”
“Who?”
“Oh.” Silver’s eyes widen, and she gets that look on her face that I know so well. The one that suggests she has a bit of juicy gossip, and it’s her sworn duty and pleasure to be the one to share it with anyone who’ll listen. “You haven’t heard?”
“Heard what?”
She leans in, and Domino and Journey do the same. Even Rook moves in closer, though I’m not sure if it’s because he’s trying to protect me or because he also wants the scoop.
“The scary one who hangs around school. Dire? After her little stunt, he’s taken her under his wing, and he’s training her up to be just like him.”
“Lieutenant Dire?” I ask, thinking of his harsh face and cruel mouth. That cold, dead light in his eyes. Is that what Sol meant about her getting friendly with the higher-ups? I think I might be sick.
“That’s the one,” Hazel says. “Apparently, he was the one who convinced her to accuse you in front of everyone.”
“He was practically choking her!” Journey exclaims. “And they’re friends now?”
“Ew,” Domino says, wrinkling her nose.
“She sold me out . . . for him?” I ask. I thought the depths of my rage couldn’t sink any lower, but they plummet to a new rock bottom.
Silver shrugs. “I mean, it’s her duty now, right? Just thought it was interesting.”
“Right,” I say. “Thanks . . . I guess.”
The table falls into awkward silence. I’m not sure what else to say. Silver and Hazel also abandoned me when things got tough. Their scattered text messages were never about support—only about stirring the pot. I don’t think we’re friends anymore, and sometimes I wonder if we ever really were.
“So,” Silver says, never one to be deterred. “Where were you?”
She glances at Rook, clearly wary of his presence and of the way he has one hand on my lower back, his other arm braced on the table.
“I don’t think we’ve had the chance to formally meet,” she says, batting her lashes. “I’m Silver. One of Poet’s oldest and closest friends.”
“Are you?” he says, tipping his head and studying her with that intense look of his. “I don’t recall you being very friendly with her last year. And we have met, actually.”
He stares at her as she sits back. Silver isn’t used to anyone calling her on her shit. I resist the urge to laugh because I should have known that if anyone would put her in her place, it would be Rook.
“Yes, well. School was busy, and she was . . .”
“What?” Rook asks. “Dealing with a lot of things? Really in need of a friend?” He gestures toward Domino and Journey with a wave of his hand. “The only people I noticed being there for her were these two.”
Silver’s mouth opens and then closes. She looks at Hazel, who has that caught-in-the-spotlight look. Rook is breaking one of the unspoken rules of our world: never point out the maneuvering and deception everyone engages in to maintain their positions.
“We should get to training soon,” Domino says, checking the time.
“Good idea,” Rook says, though his gaze never strays from Silver and Hazel.
“Right,” Silver says, barely recovering. “We should hang out, Poet. Are you going to Sogno this weekend?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Right,” she says when I don’t elaborate further. “Well, how about shopping on Saturday?”
She glances quickly at Domino and Journey, and I don’t have to guess what she’s thinking. Despite their elevation to Society, she would never be caught dead hanging out with a couple of cogs.
I can’t believe I ever bought into all this Society bullshit.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say. “I have other priorities.”
“Oookay,” Silver says, lacking the tools to deal with my rejection. “Well, we’ll text you.” She says it like she’s doing me the favor, and I let her see me rolling my eyes.
Then she scurries off with Hazel, their heads down.
As soon as they’re gone, Journey turns to Rook. “Wow, remind me never to get on your scary side. She’ll be bleeding from the new one you just tore for days.”
At that, we all burst out laughing.