First Infraction by Wendi L. Wilson

Author:Wendi L. Wilson
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

“I don’t know why you’re getting yourself so worked up about it. Look at him. He’s fine.”

I keep my eyes firmly locked on my dinner plate, refusing to follow Lark’s suggestion and look across the mess hall at Asher. I don’t need to see him. I know he’s okay—at least, physically. It’s the fear and the revulsion in his eyes I don’t want to see.

Or even that weird look of awe he’d worn earlier. I don’t want to see that either. I’m supposed to be gliding under the radar here.

I pick up the drumstick from my plate and take a bite. I can’t contain my smile as I think of Mom and her enthusiastic reaction every time fried chicken is served for dinner…which is often, since it’s her favorite. Growing up in the human foster care system, she didn’t have much to eat and had never even tasted meat until she went to the academy. Even though that was a lifetime ago, she still has a healthy appreciation for the stuff.

My eyes drift closed as I take a bite, savoring the salty, crispy goodness almost as much as my mother. When my eyes reopen, I find myself locked in a stare-down with Asher York. The chicken slips from my fingers and lands in a pile of mashed potatoes with a splat. I don’t look down. I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from the blue-eyed, dark-haired boy.

There’s no fear on his face. No revulsion. No wide-eyed look of awe or appreciation. His face is nearly inscrutable, but even from across the room I can see the glint of suspicion in his eyes. Suspicion mixed with determination, like I’m a mystery he will solve. No doubt about it.

I finally force my gaze to drop and Lark chuckles from beside me. I shoot her a dark look and she laughs even harder.

“You two are so cute,” she teases.

I huff and meet her eyes. “There is no us two, and besides, I thought you warned me to stay away from him?”

“That was when I thought he’d chew you up and spit you out like yesterday’s lasagna,” she says, smirking at her own imagery. “I thought I was protecting a soft, sweet girl from my cousin’s nasty disposition. But you’re not soft, Rory Finley.” She points her fork at me as her dark gaze penetrates mine. “And you can take care of yourself.”

“Thanks,” I reply, my voice soft with gratitude.

“Anyway,” she continues, shaking off the intense moment, “you are obviously attracted to him.”

“No, I’m—”

“Obviously,” she repeats, cutting off my denial with a pointed look. “And I think he likes you.”

A laugh bursts from my lips. “I think you meant hates.”

She’s shaking her head before I even finish. “Have you seen him pay attention to any other girl here? Other than me? It’s as if none of them exist. And believe me, they’ve tried to get him to notice them—Zephyrs and Sylphs alike.”

“So he’s talked to me. Every word has been a weapon meant to destroy me.

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