Page 20 of Stealing Embers
With wonder and a dab of disbelief, I turn to Ash. She’s grabbed a couple plastic trays from the pile in front of the counter, and slides them on a metal railing attached to the ledge. Catching my look, she hitches and dips a shoulder.
“What can I say? We’re a species of big eaters.”
No doubt.
Just then, a prickle of awareness causes the fine hairs at the back of my neck to stand on edge. For a moment, I’d forgotten about the academy students at my back. Even covered with a hat and wound into a bun, my blonde hair is on full display.
I dip my head and keep my eyes downcast as I shuffle along next to Ash, answering questions about which foods I like—which is basically any and everything—whenever she asks.
I trick myself into thinking that if I don’t look around, no one will stare.
After she piles my plate with as much food as it can hold, Ash steers me toward a round table. As I settle into my seat, I glance up long enough to notice the faces of several other students seated around me. Their curious gazes make me uncomfortable. Keeping my eyes fixed on the plate in front of me, I check to make sure no hair has escaped the tight bun at my nape.
Shrinking as best as I can, I try to make myself a smaller target. I have a strong desire to squirm in my seat, but movement will only attract more attention.
It’s impossible not to notice the rest of the room buzzing with conversation while our table is a black hole of silence. Picking at my food, I pretend not to notice.
“So, I was thinking,” Ash starts. “It’s better if we just rip off the Band-Aid.”
Oh gosh. What is she doing?
“Everyone, this is Emberly. She’s obviously new and I’m sure is super excited to answer any and all of your questions. Also, in case you haven’t noticed, under that super stylish hat she has a mane full of platinum blonde and red hair. Yes, I know you’re all jealous, but it’s better if you just get over it because she’s a really cool girl and you’re all gonna want to be friends with her.”
No. She didn’t just say all that.
I let out a low groan and duck my head. Heat rises up my neck and takes up permanent residence on my cheeks.
“Emberly.” Ash nudges me with her elbow, and I have to stop myself from jabbing her in the nose. “Let me introduce you to my friends.”
Ithinkthe sound that comes out of my mouth resembles grumbled agreement. At least that’s what I’m going for.
Forcing myself to raise my eyes, I glance at the people sitting to the right, left, and in front of me. Various expressions of amusement light their faces as I regard them.
Guess they’re used to Ash’s brash personality.
Unfortunately, I’m not.
Ash goes around the table, rattling off names.
Kenna, the girl sitting to my right, wiggles her fingers at me in greeting. Her mahogany-colored hair is slicked back into a trendy bob, the edges razor cut in a straight line right at chin level. Her green eyes resemble a prairie field in springtime, the slight bronze color of her skin making them pop and giving her a slightly otherworldly look.
The girl next to her is Hadley. When she’s introduced, she adjusts the tortoise-shell glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose.
“They’re not prescription,” she explains. “We all have perfect eyesight. I just like the look of them.” Her smile is on the shy side, and she clears her throat before brushing a lock of her charcoal-colored wavy hair behind her ear.
I like her.
Sterling and Greyson, the two dudes at our table who are sitting across from me, nod when their names are announced.
I promptly forget which is which. They look too much alike with their matching dark hair—only a shade above black, and long enough to curl at the ends. They both sport square jawlines and blue-green eyes.
“Greyson and Sterling are twins,” Ash announces. I continue to regard them from underneath the bill of my hat. The longer I stare, the more I can tell them apart. There’s an obvious resemblance, but they can’t be identical. Something a lot like déjà vu tickles my brain, but I brush it away.
“We’re all tenth-years,” one of the brothers explains. “Even Sterling here, although you wouldn’t know it from his maturity level.”
Okay, so you must be Greyson.
I bob my head as if I know what he’s talking about.