Spring (Evermore Academy #2) - Audrey Grey Page 0,106
and Sebastian lean forward, each dad grabbing one of her hands. For some reason, Mack looks mortified, but then again, so would I if I had to make a speech in front of hundreds.
“Reina Vanderhill,” Cronus announces. The Unseelie side of the courtyard erupts in applause. Mack frowns, avoiding her dads’ shocked gasps.
But unlike them, she doesn’t seem surprised. Only . . . embarrassed.
Sebastian goes immediately into lawyer mode. “There’s no way Mackenzie lost to a daughter of the Vanderhill’s. They bought her grades, I guarantee. Our girl deserves this award. I’ve already written it into her application letters to the big five firms. Wait until I file a motion with the school—”
Nick takes Sebastian’s hand. “Shh, honey. Don’t embarrass Mackenzie. We’ll discuss this later.”
Mack, for her part, seems to shrink, caught in the middle of them. I try to catch her eye for support but her eyes stay glued to her clasped hands.
Thankfully, that was the last award. As we stand to say our goodbyes to our families, Nick pulls me aside.
“Summer, you would tell me, wouldn’t you honey? If Mack wasn’t okay?”
Okay? “Why wouldn’t she be?”
But even as the words leave my mouth, I’m taking in her gaunt cheeks and sharp collarbones, the untouched food on her plate.
He sneaks a look her way. “Sebastian means well, but he puts so much pressure on her. And this year . . . well she won’t say as much, but I can tell it’s been a struggle. She won’t let us help her. The school contacted us about her grades—”
My head snaps back to him. “What about her grades?”
“She didn’t tell you?” His auburn eyebrows gather. “Then I shouldn’t have said anything.” He wipes at the corner of his eye. “Did we do the right thing, bargaining for her life and sending her here?”
The turmoil and uncertainty in his voice pierces my heart. There could hardly be two parents who loved their daughter more.
I shrug. “All I know is you did the best you could.”
He nods, as if reassuring himself of this. “She’s lucky to have a friend like you.”
After that, a pit of unease lodges squarely in my sternum. And it doesn’t go away. Not even after we say goodbye to our families—Nick and Sebastian promising to escort my family straight to the mortal guest houses behind the quad—and then rush to the nearest bar, Richard, Layla, and Jace in tow.
Eclipsa joins us in line, oblivious how the other mortal students scatter. She took my advice to heart and wears a metallic silver mini-dress that could be painted on. Actually, I think it might be paint.
Annoyed at the line, the Lunar assassin cuts to the front, demanding shots. After a few select words with the deer shifter bartending, she waves us over.
“These are my friends. Make them happy. Got it?”
I watch her jaunt away with the tray of shots, not spilling a single drop.
“You okay?” I ask Mack as we wait for the deer shifter to make our lilac shandies.
“Of course.” She throws an indignant look over my shoulder at Reina and her friends. “Everyone knows Reina pays for her grades.”
“So everything’s good?” I persist.
“Yes, Mom.” She rolls her eyes. “It will be after you get stupid drunk and dance with me.”
The deer shifter hands us our cocktails. Desperate for alcohol, Mack goes to grab mine, but the shifter shakes his head, his large umber eyes darting to me. “This is for her.”
I take my fizzy drink, wondering if I should be flattered or weirded out by his creepy stare.
“Someone’s not getting a tip,” Mack mutters as we cross the lawn toward the center of the courtyard, where students are gathering. The tables have been moved, the soft glow of the pink and green lanterns strung high above illuminating the pockets of people already dancing.
Halfway across the lawn, I nearly run into the Winter Court entourage. Magus is escorting them to their quarters, which I’m willing to bet are more luxurious than where Zinnia, Vi, and Jane are staying.
Despite the pleasant spring air, the Winter King wears a fur-lined cloak of navy blue velvet. The grass where he’s walked is frozen, a trailing path of glittery white.
Before I can remember that he probably hates me—and that I should probably hide—his gaze shifts to our little group.
And fixes on me.
Something reaches through his cold demeanor, a curiosity, and then he nods to my drink as he holds his up.