Going Down in Flames (Going Down in Flames #1)(46)

The amount of money the school shelled out to make students look good astounded her. “I guess appearance is everything.”

Since all this was provided, she might as well take advantage. Finding an empty space at the counter, she used the blow-dryer.

They met up with Clint outside the locker room and headed over to the dining hall where Bryn piled her plate with lasagna, salad, and breadsticks. Zavien appeared at their table with two pieces of chocolate cake on his tray.

“Did you shoot fireballs at anyone today?” He held one piece of cake toward her.

She snatched it from his hand. “No. It was a slow morning.”

“She threw herself at some Blue dragon during Basic Movement,” Clint said. “It was quite the spectacle.”

Ivy clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from spitting out her food.

Zavien frowned. “When I asked you to be nicer to the Blues, that isn’t what I had in mind.”

“I didn’t throw myself at Quentin.”

“Liar,” Clint said.

“Ivy, you’re closer. Smack him for me.”

Ivy cuffed him on the back of the head. “Behave.”

“I didn’t flirt with Quentin,” Bryn said. “I tripped on the treadmill and fell on him. He was nice enough to catch me.”

Zavien snorted. “How does one trip on a treadmill?”

Bryn pointed her fork at Clint. “He commented on some weightlifter’s personal equipment.”

“Hey,” Clint protested.

Bryn stuck her tongue out at him. “Two can play at the misinformation game.”

“Anything else I should know?” Zavien asked.

She pulled the piece of cake closer. “I may have argued with Jaxon.”

He reached for the cake, and she threatened to stab him with her fork. “Don’t even think about it.”

He gave her a pleading look. “We talked about this.”

“I was having a normal conversation with Rhianna and Quentin. Jaxon got all high and mighty with Rhianna, but she stood up for herself. I was impressed.”

Zavien took a bite of his hamburger and gestured she should continue the story.

“Jaxon yelled at me, I yelled back, and Mrs. Anderson broke it up. End of story.”

Zavien regarded her with suspicion. “Clint, did she leave anything out?”

“She made nice with Keegan and a few other Reds,” Clint said.

“Quentin and Keegan? You had a busy day.” Zavien sounded irritated.

Could he be jealous?

“I have a theory,” Clint said. “I think Bryn has the whole forbidden fruit thing going for her.”

“Really?” Maybe she wouldn’t be dateless after all.

“Don’t sound so happy about it,” Zavien said. “This is an added complication we don’t need. You’re not supposed to attract attention.”

She’d be happy with his attention, but this didn’t seem like the time to mention it.

The rest of the school day proved uninteresting. Jaxon appeared to be brooding over the supposed betrayal of his girlfriend. Bryn liked it when his mind was elsewhere. The constant glare she usually endured had begun to feel like sunburn.

After Proper Decorum, she parted ways with Clint and Ivy, intent on taking a nap before dinner. If she didn’t meet them at six, they promised to fly over and wake her.

When she reached her room, she changed into a purple tank top and her giraffe-print pajama pants and climbed between the cool sheets.

Sometime later, she heard a knock on her window. “Go away.”

“It’s time for dinner,” Clint called out as he climbed into the room. Ivy followed behind him.

“I had the weirdest dream.” Bryn sat up, throwing off the blankets.

Clint pointed at her pajama bottoms. “Did you dream an angry giraffe wanted his pants back?”

Ignoring him, she tried to focus on the dream, but it drifted away like smoke. “I dreamed… It was something about searching for treasure.”

“Maybe you have a secret desire to be a pirate,” Clint said.

Her stomach growled. “Right now my only desire is to be fed.”

She hustled out of bed and dressed in the bathroom. She darkened her lips and cheeks with Quintessence. If she could find a way to extend the trick to her clothes, she’d be ready in no time.

The dining hall was half empty by the time they sat with their trays. Bryn’s plate contained a pile of nachos bigger than her head.

Clint raised his eyebrows.

“What? I’m hungry.”

Ivy pointed at the wall. “They’ve posted the announcements about the Fall Dance.”

Great. Just what she needed. An event to remind her that she didn’t have a boyfriend. Not that she wanted to go. Dances were stupid.

Her thoughts must’ve shown on her face because Ivy pouted. “Girls are supposed to like dances.”

“Dancing with friends is fun,” Bryn conceded. “A dance where boys and girls pretend they’re having a good time while wearing uncomfortable clothing isn’t fun.”

“Thank you.” Clint wiped at a spot on his tie. “Dances were invented to torture those of us who don’t relish dressing in a penguin suit.”

Ivy stabbed her salad. “Maybe I’ll go to the dance with someone else.”