‘I don’t think it’s poisoned,’ she said.
‘Oh good. Still,’ Jo nibbled her sandwich, ‘I’m not taking any chances. Hey, what’s your course schedule like? Are you in my classes?’ She held her hand out, palm up. ‘Hand it over.’
Allie shoved the last quarter of the sandwich into her mouth and dug around her bag until she found the white slip of paper.
‘Here,’ she mumbled through her food.
‘You’re such a lady,’ Jo said, then she squealed with excitement. ‘We’re in three classes together this term! History, biology and French. This is awesome.’ She blinked at Allie over the top of the paper. ‘I wonder if I could convince Isabelle to move us together for everything. I could promise to be good. For the first time ever.’
‘You’d get sick of me,’ Allie said. ‘I snore.’
‘That is so not a surprise.’ Jo handed her schedule back.
‘Hang on,’ Allie said looking up from her soup, ‘how can we have French together? I thought you were in advanced French?’
Jo leaned over to pick up her bag. ‘I think you’ll find that you, too, are in advanced French, ma petite chou.’
‘No way.’ Allie looked at Jo with suspicion.
‘And in advanced history, biology and English.’
‘No. Way.’
Jo rolled her eyes. ‘Allie, haven’t you looked at your own timetable?’
‘Advanced my arse,’ Allie muttered scanning the page, but Jo was right – almost all her classes were advanced.
She grinned triumphantly – for two years her marks had been sliding down a steep slope towards failure, but all her hard work over the summer term had paid off.
‘Unfortunately, you’re still in normal baby maths,’ Jo said, with a smug smile. ‘Which is lame.’ She stood up. ‘Well? Are you coming?’
‘Maybe,’ Allie said. ‘Depends where you’re going.’
Jo was already walking away so her reply floated back over her shoulder. ‘Common room. To pee around my favourite sofa so the little ones don’t try to steal it too.’
Grabbing another half-sandwich to eat on the way, Allie followed her out.
After the clamour of the dining room the hallway was a peaceful oasis. Everything was back in its place. Sunlight glimmered off the oak-panelled walls, and the old oil paintings had all been returned to the spots where they’d hung for centuries. Her rubber-soled shoes stuck a little to the recently varnished wood floor.
To Allie it all felt right again. Like the fire never happened. And Cimmeria was safe.
The common room, reached through a door virtually underneath the grand staircase, was filled with bookcases and deep leather sofas and chairs. A glossy, baby grand piano dominated one corner.
After making her way to the middle of the room, Jo plopped on to a sofa with a satisfied sigh. ‘None of those pesky ankle biters are getting my spot.’ She stretched languorously. ‘I can’t believe classes start tomorrow. We just never stopped working this summer.’
‘Oh, stop complaining.’
They glanced up to see Rachel walk in, smiling, with a tall, slim boy whose light brown hair fell forward across his brow.
‘Hey, Rach. Hi, Lucas,’ Allie said.
‘Did you fight your way through the crowds of newbies?’ Jo asked, reaching out to take a magazine from the low coffee table.
‘There were too many.’ Lucas dropped into the chair across from them without ceremony. ‘We retreated.’
‘With honour.’ Rachel sat on the ottoman beside him. ‘They are legion.’
‘It shouldn’t be allowed,’ Jo said, flipping through the magazine without really looking at it.
‘Allie,’ Lucas said, ‘we saw Carter in the hallway outside. He was looking for you.’
Allie climbed to her feet with a yawn, and headed for the door.
On the way out, she passed a group of new students who stood in the common room doorway looking lost.
‘No TVs,’ one of them said. ‘I might die.’
‘No computers,’ another replied in tones of quiet desperation. ‘Seriously. What the hell will we do?’
Allie was nearly out of earshot when she heard the third one sigh. ‘I hate my parents so much right now.’
SEVEN
Carter stood leaning against the door to the great hall reading, one foot propped behind him. Lost in his book, he didn’t notice Allie standing in front of him. His straight dark hair swung forward as he read. When he pushed it back absently with a characteristic gesture she loved, she sighed.
His head shot up and his dark eyes met hers.
‘Hey,’ she said.
His eyes traced the outlines of her face. ‘Hey back.’
He had this way of studying her that made her almost nervous – as if nothing could escape his gaze.
‘What are you reading?’ she asked, to get him to stop.
As he reached out his hand and pulled her closer, he held up the book and she saw the name on the spine. ‘Vonnegut? Who’s he?’ She frowned. ‘Are we assigned that this term?’
His crooked smile made her insides melt; when he shook his head his hair had this way of flopping …
‘No, I just like it. I’m reading everything he ever wrote. He was awesome.’ Tucking the book under his arm, he reached back and turned the doorknob, leaning hard against the door at the same time so that they both tumbled laughing into the great hall.