Chapter 12 12- Never Stand Too Close In A Crowd
LEXI
I clear my throat lightly, trying to pretend this isn’t already shaping up to be the most annoying part of my day.
“Hi, It’s Aaron, right? What’s up?” I say brightly. The cheerfulness is deliberate. If he wants a confrontation, he can at least work for it.
Aaron doesn’t bother with pleasantries.
45
“Mallory tells me you’ve been talking to the dragon.” He says dragon the same way someone might say toxic waste. I shrug, keeping my expression calm even as my patience frays at the edges.
“Yes. I have.” I answer simply. Internally, I sigh. Fantastic. Day one, and I’ve already attracted the attention of the guy who travels with backup dancers. I was hoping to avoid drama, especially with the type of person who has ‘minions‘ as part of his aesthetic. Then again, I DID decide to go make friends with the guy that everyone hates, so I have to take a little responsibility. Maybe I wasn’t trying THAT hard to avoid drama. Aaron lifts his chin in that self–important way that says he expects obedience by default.
“I think it would be better for everyone if you stopped associating with the dragon.” He says. Completely serious. Like he’s issuing a decree from a throne made of ego. It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes. I suddenly feel like I’ve wandered into a badly written teen movie where the mean popular guy tries to dictate who the new girl can sit with at lunch.
“Look, I don’t want trouble here. But I refuse to be told who I can and cannot speak to. That’s my business. And I suggest you keep to yours.” I say, dropping the fake sweetness. I cross my arms, plant my feet, and glare at him. Aaron steps forward. Then another step until he is right in my space, staring me down nose–to–nose. He is clearly trying to intimidate me into compliance. But I’m stubborn. And this guy has absolutely no right to dictate my friendships. He leans in closer, practically fogging up my face with his hot, unpleasant breath. He’s taller than me by a lot, forcing me to crane my neck to keep eye contact. I’m sure he planned it that way, to force me to look up at him, make me look small. I refuse to break eye contact. I instinctively lean back to get away from the breath situation and immediately realise my mistake. My balance goes. Completely. My arms fly out to grab something, anything, and the only thing within reach is Aaron’s jacket. Nope. Absolutely not. I would rather fall off the planet. I twist, trying to salvage my dignity, but gravity betrays me. I topple backward. There’s a split–second of weightless panic, then a splash so loud it echoes through the courtyard. I land in the fountain. Flat on my back. Soaked from head to toe. Well… I guess gravity still works!
Cold water slaps up into my face, stealing my breath for a moment and shocking every nerve in my body. For one mortifying, suspended heartbeat, I just lie there, half submerged, staring up at the sky, trying to process the fact that this is really happening. Day one and I’m already the idiot who fell into a fountain. Aaron’s stunned silence lasts all of three seconds. Then he bursts out laughing. Not a snicker Not a startled chuckle. A full–bodied, bent over, wheezing laugh that echoes across the courtyard like he’s just witnessed the peak of comedy. His two wolf sidekicks jump right in, laughing like trained seals performing on cue. The sound hits me like a slap, sharp, hot and humiliating. I’d kind of like to imagine that Mallory isn’t laughing. That she’s at least wincing sympathetically somewhere behind them. But I can’t see her through the water in my eyes, and honestly? At this point? I’m not sure I want to know. I push myself up, dignity clinging to me with all the strength of a wet Uissue. Water pours off my dress in miserable little streams. My shoes squish. My hair hangs in soaking ropes around my shoulders. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. I straighten my spine, lift my chin, and step out of the fountain with as much grace as I can muster. Water sloshes with every step, but I refuse to acknowledge II.
“Well, since I can’t think of what else you could possibly have to say to me, I’m going to go dry off now.” I say, voice steady despite how
shouldn’t make violently my pride is bleeding out. I take a moment to remind myself that pride is something I have in myself. His opinion
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Chapter 12 12- Never Stand Too Close In A Crowd
any difference. Aaron’s laughter gets louder, but I don’t look back. I will not give him that satisfaction. I turn and march away, water
dripping, shoes squelching, dress clinging to me in the world’s least flattering way. I head straight for the dorms.
45
I really hope that I don’t run into Blake on the way. The very last thing I need right now is to explain why I look like I lost a fight with a
swimming pool. He already deals with enough judgment from everyone here, he doesn’t need to start worrying about how my reputation
might get dragged down by association. I made my decision, it’s not his problem. I check my phone. Ten minutes until dinner. Oh great. Just wonderful. I pick up my pace, fast enough to look urgent, slow enough not to outright sprint like a lunatic, and make it back to the dorms without crossing paths with anyone. Thank goodness. I hurry into my room, slam the door shut behind me, and go straight to my
closet. There they are. Dry clothes. Fresh, neatly hung, exactly my size and style. I knew it. Magic wardrobe for the win! I tug on the jeans and baby–blue t–shirt, relieved that they’re comfortable and not another sundress. It was cute, but I’m a little chilled after the fountain. My wet clothes go straight into a basket at the bottom of the closet that I swear did not exist earlier. This place really does think of everything, whether I’m ready for it or not. I glance at the mirror. Not bad… Not great, but not bad. My hair, unfortunately, is still damp and sticking to my shoulders like clingy seaweed. There’s no time to fix it properly. I grab my phone and send Blake a message.
Alexis: Running five minutes late! See you soon.
He replies instantly. Again.
Blake: No problem. I’ll be waiting.
I rub a towel over my hair, then run a brush through the damp waves, hoping they’ll behave. They do not. Typical. In the end, I yank everything into a loose ponytail and hope it passes as intentional rather than hastily–assembled chaos. Hopefully Blake either won’t notice or won’t ask why I decided to change outfits for dinner. Because if he asks me outright, I’m not going to lie. It would be absurd to lie about something so minor, and honestly, he’d probably see right through it anyway. As ready as I’m going to get. I rush out the door, lock it behind me, and break into a full–on run toward the cafeteria.
I force myself to slow down about fifty metres from the cafeteria. Showing up wheezing and half–dead from sprinting is not the vibe I want for dinner. I take a few steady breaths, smooth my ponytail and try to pretend I didn’t just run across half the Academy like a panicked squirrel. The moment I step inside, Blake appears, like he was waiting close enough to the entrance to intercept me the second!
crossed the threshold.
“Hello.” He says. His voice SOUNDS confident. Deep, smooth and steady, but his posture gives him away. He’s shifting his weight from foot to foot, almost like he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. For a guy who looks as intimidating as he does, he manages to
look oddly… Nervous?
“Hey!” I say, flashing what I hope is a normal, non–frazzled smile.
“Let’s go grab food so we can sit.” I suggest. I head toward the line, and he follows silently, close enough to be reassuring but not close enough to be in my space. Something I am very aware of now. Where Aaron used his size and proximity to intimidate me, Blake, who is much bigger, doesn’t do that at all I try to look relaxed, but my heart is still thundering from my run and from the earlier fountain incident… And from the mortifying thought of Blake finding out ) REALLY hope he didn’t hear anything I wonder what dragon shifter hearing is like. Wolves have good hearing. Cats too. Most shifters do. Mine? Average at best. It’s a little disappointing honestly, but maybe if I ever actually shift, things like that will change. Maybe there’s some cool hidden ability waiting to unlock. Or maybe I’m doomed to live life with mediocre ears forever. We reach the food counter. I choose a vegetable soup because it’s warm, simple, and requires sero thought. Blake gets a steak the size of my face. Somehow that feels fitting. We sit down. I lift my spoon. He lifts his fork.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
