ignore the stare from a female shadow rushing by us in the hall. I can’t even imagine what I look like. “So the Spring Court prince just randomly decided to attend here?”
Ruby shrugs. “Kid, all I know is that magic was powerful enough to take down Inara Winterspell and the Six. All because of you. And being the center of any powerful Evermore’s attention—other than lover boy—is a wonderful way to shorten your already tiny mortal lifespan.”
I shut my locker, sling my backpack over my shoulder, and grin. “I hope they got that on video. Now, off to . . .”
I look to Ruby for a reminder of my first period, but she just shrugs and goes back to licking the syrup from a tangled strand of my hair.
Mack frowns. “Summer, go shower. I’ll explain to your teacher what happened—”
“No.” I cross my arms, cringing as they stick together. “If I miss my first class, they win. It proves that I can’t handle being here. I’m already on thin ice after my expulsion last semester, and now, with Inara’s incentive to get me kicked out . . .”
“I’ll never understand why some people have to be such dickwads,” Mack mutters.
Ruby sighs. “Evermore like Inara are broken and shattered inside, and they’re only happy when they make others feel the same way they do.”
The profoundness of Ruby’s statement nearly makes me drop my backpack.
Mack slams her locker shut with a loud clang, drawing a few questioning stares from the nearest shadows. “That’s no excuse for her awfulness. I hope the Spring Prince left her there to squirm for a while.”
That makes two of us.
Mack gives me one last look. “You got this, Summer. Take Ruby for support. Second years are allowed to bring their sprites to class if they need them for note taking or . . . whatever.”
Normally I would refuse. Even on her best of days, Ruby is a distraction more than a help. But facing a class full of people rooting for me to fail might just be a bit more bearable with someone I care about nearby.
I pat my shoulder. “Alright, Ruby, ready to be my emotional support sprite?”
“Ready as a broke stripper at a bachelor party.”
“O-kay. I’ll take that as a yes.”
As I sprint down the stairs to my first class, Ruby scraping bits of bacon and eggs from my collarbone, I cheer myself up with lies.
It’s fine. This is fine. You’re fine.
But my gut disagrees, making nervous gurgles. If the first day is any indication of how the rest of the year will go, I’m epically screwed.
Despite my efforts, I’m tardy first period. My Faerie Courts and History teacher, Professor Hawthorne, raises an eyebrow when Ruby and I slip into the room. Thankfully, the towering, jade-skinned Fae is too busy trying to work the new projector screen to publicly remark on my lateness, or the fact that I smell like an IHOP.
As I slip into a seat in the back, Reina laughs. “Who ordered breakfast?”
I’ve already decided my plan of attack this year will be ignoring the insults. Rise above and all that crap.
But Ruby didn’t get the memo on my new, dignified strategy, and she bares her tiny needle-like teeth at Reina. “Who ordered murder? Oh, right. You did if you keep talking smack, mortal harlot.”
Welp, that escalated quickly.
I have no idea what the classroom rules state about threatening death against another student, but thankfully Reina loses interest, and Ruby falls asleep the moment the room darkens and the projector flashes across the wall.
After class ends, I rush to second period, praying Reina isn’t there. But of course she is. In some horrible cosmic twist of fate, I share every class with Inara’s shadow.
The rest of the day goes exactly how I expect. Snickers. Stares. Uninspired jokes. Ruby handing out death threats like a serial killer hands out candy. Professors pretending I’m not covered in syrup and bacon so they don’t have to address why I’m a walking buffet.
At one point between classes, as I unsuccessfully scrub at the stains on my clothes with paper towels in the bathroom, the woman from the CMH strolls in. She glances at my hair, my clothes, frowns, and walks away.
So much for that protection.
A few human shadows afford me looks of pity, but that’s almost worse than being gaped and laughed at.
Somehow, I endure all of it with steely resolve.
Ruby’s rare words of wisdom were right: Inara wants to hurt me until my insides resemble hers. But