Evermore Academy (Evermore Academy #3) - Audrey Grey Page 0,44
could hide my face. They openly stare, and I wonder how many of them saw my hot pink thong this afternoon when I tumbled headfirst down the steps.
Ugh. There’s no coming back from that.
Remember the plan. Ally and conquer, in whatever order necessary.
“Ignore them,” Mack practically shouts, causing the few people who weren’t staring to look our way.
Why do I feel like people who say that have never actually been the constant center of attention? Because ignoring a hundred staring faces is pretty much impossible. Still, I try, focusing on the task at hand—planning the upcoming Selection.
Before I left the house, I dug around until I found the packet the headmistress mentioned, buried beneath a silken mound of Eclipsa’s stolen nightgowns in Ruby’s cat tree house. Inside was instructions on my responsibilities as head student for the year, including planning the shadow Selection on Friday.
Once I find the texts I’m looking for, Mack and I separate. She gives me a thumbs-up before disappearing into the herbs and potions section. Clutching five giant books, I settle into a red leather beanbag chair, pulling my cap down as low as it will go.
I’ve already decided the Selection this year will be different. Instead of making the shadows practically kill themselves to prove their worth, it will be a team effort.
Keepers and shadows, working together.
I grin and snap open the Shadow Selection History textbook.
After an hour of perusing the book front to back, I have a notepad full of ideas. Now I just need a list of herbs native to the academy’s twenty-thousand acre campus. That proves more difficult. There are hundreds of books regarding Everwilde flora used for spells and poisons, but none specific to the academy. I’ve gone through at least ten different books and am no closer to what I need when I feel someone staring at me.
Lifting the lowered bill of my cap, I lock eyes with Kimber. The vampire is hunched in a lime green beanbag a few feet away, blood magic books scattered around her black combat boots. An oversized black Nirvana hoodie nearly swallows her, and her unnatural yellow irises are framed by dramatic jet-black eyeliner that would look silly on anyone else.
Her frozen expression hints she’s just as surprised to see me as I am her.
I wave my hand like an idiot.
She snatches an ancient leather book that’s one touch away from crumbling to dust, buries her face in it, and completely ignores me.
Okay then.
A few minutes later, I’m absentmindedly popping watermelon Sour Patch Kids into my mouth when I feel the piercing burn of Kimber’s stare again. I shift until our eyes meet.
Those yellow cat irises regard me above the top of her book. “Do you always chew so loudly?”
I pause mid-chew, but there’s really no way to not make noise when you eat gummies, and anyway, who cares? “Maybe you shouldn’t have freakish senses that pick up on everything.”
She blinks.
I hold up the bag and shake it. “Want some?”
Her nostrils flare as she sniffs the air. I can tell she wants to say no . . . but really, who can deny Sour Patch Kids? Especially watermelon. I toss the bag at her, earning a scowl from Ruby, who’s just woken up from her millionth nap today.
Ruby gives a dramatic yawn loud enough to earn a stern look from the librarian on the other side of the room. “Why are we feeding the angry monster the last of my yummy sugar babies?”
“First off, they’re my yummy sugar babies. Second, if the angry monster is eating that, it won’t eat us.”
That earns an eye roll from Kimber. “You’re not really my type.”
“Good to know.”
We fall into a comfortable silence. Thirty more minutes pass, but I’m still no closer to learning what herbs grow naturally on this Island. If I had more time, I could try to track down one of the botany professors, but I still have to write an essay for our Faerie Law class and there’s a pop quiz in Properties of Magic III on Wednesday.
Once again, I feel Kimber’s intense stare. Only this time, she’s smiling when I return her gaze. Which is one hundred percent more terrifying than when she frowns because her fangs are on full display.
She tosses me the candy bag. “I left a few for the tiny one.”
“Thanks. She turns into a wee demon when she doesn’t have sugar.”
Kimber laughs, and I’m shocked at how real it sounds. Are we doing this?