Nightworld Academy: Term One(Nightworld Academy #1)(6)

"Ugh. You should watch yourself if you eat junk like that."

I look round to where a tall, attractive girl looks down with her nose wrinkled. We have the same hair colour, although hers is sleek and straightened to perfection. Mine, however, is natural blonde. Her beautiful features are accentuated by a perfect choice of lipstick and eye make-up, which co-ordinate with the short pink dress she wears.

"I like chips," I say, then almost slap myself at how stupid I sound.

"Everybody likes chips." She takes one between her fingers and delicately nibbles. "But some of us prefer to look good."

"Pardon?"

She gives me the once over. "You don't want a fat backside. Guys like some curves, but not if you're..." She blows air into her cheeks as if making herself fatter. A girl, dressed to match beside her, giggles.

Wow. Just wow.

"Are you picking on the new girl, Katherine?" A guy standing behind the blonde leans against the counter, resting on one elbow, body angled towards mine. He's tall and intense-looking, dark hair swept into his face with startling green eyes beneath his fringe. Chains hang through his belt loop and his faded band t-shirt beneath an open black shirt adds to his edgy effect. These are the group I saw together at the table. In my old school, they wouldn't mix.

"Why? Do you want to be her friend, Andrei?" mocks Katherine.

He regards me impassively. "What's your name?"

"Maeve."

"Maeve what?"

"Foster."

"Oh." He turns away. "I thought you might've been someone interesting."

Katherine snickers, and I clear my throat. "You mean edgy like you?"

He slowly turns to look back at me. "I'm in the advanced program. Are you?" Andrei smiles at my blank look. "No? Didn't think so. Therefore, not interesting."

He pulls himself away from the counter and inclines his head to Katherine. "Finish up here and stop being a goddamn cliché mean girl."

"I am not," she retorts. "I just have a forceful personality."

He chokes a laugh. "Sure thing, Kat."

Without a word or look in my direction, Andrei saunters off to the table he sat at earlier. Katherine loses her interest in me, too busy glowering at Andrei, as she grabs a bottle of water and flashes a card at the payment machine. She follows him and sits, handing him a savage look.

The red-haired guy at their table watches too, drinking slowly from a can. They're a mismatched group—the pretty girl with her hangers-on, the moody emo dude and someone wearing what appears to be a blue and white varsity jacket. A jock type? Why isn't he with the guys at the table behind Jamie’s, who I'd earmarked as the sporty gang?

I startle as Jamie appears at my shoulder and takes my tray. "I'll get these, sit back down and ignore the idiots." I look back into his kind eyes and insist to myself he isn't the guy from my vision. But the ring. He wore the same one. I stare at where he holds the tray and the glinting signet ring on his middle right finger. He follows my gaze.

"House ring." Jamie flicks a card over a reader to pay for my meal; if you could call chips a meal. He carries the tray over and as he places the tray down, then pulls the chair out for me to sit with the others. Flustered by his behaviour, I stare in disbelief until Ash gives a throaty laugh.

"Girls don't like gentlemen these days, Jamie." His eyes sparkle as he regards me. "Don't tell me you like the bad boys, Maeve."

I sit and drag the chair back under the table. "Sometimes."

"Bad luck, Jamie," says Ash and slaps his arm.

Jamie frowns and rubs his arm. "Why does chivalry have to be seen as hitting on a girl?"

"Jeez, man. I'm teasing." Ash flashes that perfect smile at me again and stupid butterflies flutter in my chest. "But tell me if anybody's a dickhead to you. I know you're the new girl, but that's no excuse."

He switches his glare to the other table. Katherine gives him a small wave then locks her arm through the red-haired guy's.

"They're Petrescu. Stay away," says Ash.

I groan and sink into my chair a little further. My old school divided students into four houses for sporting events, but nothing else. Rivalry wasn't rife. The biggest drama was those upset because they wanted to be in the red house and not the blue. Serious.

"Who shouldn’t I avoid?" I ask.

"You know that me, you, and Amelia are in Walcott house. Ash and the guys at the table behind—plus Clive, the big guy sitting with Petrescu—are in Gilgamesh."

"I'm glad to hear you mix a little," I say with a hopeful smile. "You're not all mortal enemies."

Ash and Jamie glance at each other.

"Friendly rivalry that's not so friendly sometimes," puts in Amelia. "It's worse in spring term when we have the house trials. But we don't need to worry about those yet."

My eyes widen. I do.

"Have you told Maeve about the allegiance?" asks Jamie.

"The what?"

"There are old traditions about swearing loyalty to your house and upholding the name." She turns to Jamie. "I didn't mention that yet. I didn't want Maeve freaking out on her first day."

The chip I'm eating sticks in my dry mouth as I watch the conversation unfold.