Nightworld Academy: Term One(Nightworld Academy #1)(13)

"I'm not tired," I reply.

"It's past midnight."

"Well, if I don't have any classes until six p.m., I can sleep in, can't I?"

Jamie scratches his eyebrow and looks around the room. "What have you been doing while we've been at class?"

"I finished my tasks for our history project, then I met someone called Clive and the delightful Katherine again." I pull a face. "Apparently I'm in trouble now for skipping class."

Jamie sits next to me and looks down at my bag dumped on the floor beside the sofa, brow furrowing further. "In trouble with who?"

"The teacher? Clive seemed confused when I told him I wasn't on the advanced program, as if everybody should attend. Then Katherine appeared and joined in the borderline bullying. How do I get my blazer with the house colours? They were nasty, and I'm worried what they'll do." My rambled outburst is followed by heavy, stressed breathing.

"Whoa. Okay. Calm down, Maeve."

Pressure builds in my temples as I try not to cry. What the hell is with the constant threat of tears? This is not who I am. "Coming here has been stressful enough, but now I feel as if I'm a bigger freak than my last school. People instantly don't like me."

"Clive and Katherine are close friends and bullies. Don't worry about the blazer and house colours, those two know full well you wouldn't get that organised on the first day here. We’ll help organise a time, but as Amelia said, nobody wanted to drop this on you as soon as you arrived."

"Drop what? What happens?"

"Again, it's just a dumb ritual."

"Ritual?" I squeak. "Like blood brothers or something?"

"No." He smiles and sits next to me. "Nothing like that. You swear to uphold Walcott values and promise to always strive to make the house a better place. You know, that kind of thing. No blood involved; I promise."

I relax back into the chair. I'd had images of sorority initiations I'd seen on US movies and shows. "Will anybody else be there?"

"Only the Walcott head boy and girl. Don't worry. I'll let them know you're nervous and to make it quick."

"I'm not sure how reassuring those words are, Jamie."

"I promise, everything will be okay." He pauses. "Maeve, I need to ask you something."

He twists in his seat, careful to keep outside my freaked-out personal space. His serious expression means I'm scared what his next words will be.

"Right."

"Why do you look at me in the odd way you do?"

All thoughts and worry about houses and mean girls disappear. How do I tell Jamie 'because I've seen you die'? I grasp at a possible other reason I could give, and blurt, "Because you're a good-looking guy."

I cringe. Seriously, Maeve? At least I didn't call him 'hot'.

Jamie blinks rapidly and then he laughs softly. "I like your excuse, Maeve, but I don't think you're telling me the truth."

I frown. "It's true. I've seen how other girls look at you too."

"Hot nerd, huh?" he asks. "I need to start wearing glasses to perfect the look. Honestly, most girls only cosy up so I'll help them with assignments."

At least his laughter breaks the awkward situation. Jamie moves and his knee touches my leg. Innocuous. Accidental. But the moment his body touches mine, an energy buzzes along my leg and straight to my heart.

The bloodied Jamie flashes across my mind, and I leap to my feet.

Jamie's brow dips. "That’s the look I mean. Are you scared of me? Did I do something?"

My hands tremble as I tuck them beneath my arms. "No. No. I'm just freaked out by everything. Thinking about initiations and crap, you know? I've had a long day."

"Ash told me you fainted before," he presses. "You look pale now. Maybe you should see a nurse? I can take you."

Thanks, Ash. "I’m fine." I grit my teeth.

"Do you have medical issues?" His intense concern echoes Ash's earlier. Ordinarily, I'd love the care and attention from two guys, but not knowing the reason why.

"Not physical issues," I mutter. I look up. "I have episodes, when I'm stressed. I hallucinate. My doctors tell me it's migraines, and I've had a couple since I arrived. If they get worse, I'll speak to somebody."

His eyes widen. "What do you see when you hallucinate? Anything that makes sense?"

"I don't want to talk about it," I whisper. "Maybe I should head to bed. Late night and all that."

Jamie nods and his fringe dips into his eyes, half-obscuring them. He hands me my bag from beside him on the floor and our fingers brush. I'm sick to my stomach when the same sensation washes over me.

"Did you see me when you had a migraine?" His voice is low, expression troubled. He clearly doesn't believe my 'migraine' excuse. "Ash said you spoke my name."

Thanks again, Ash.

"I often see people I know in hallucinations," I say breezily. "Especially the good-looking ones."

He arches a brow. "Is that right?"

"Good night, Jamie." I hurry from the room, eager to escape his line of questioning.

Yes, I see people, Jamie, but they don't usually die.