Page 71 of Burning Embers

I lean forward and whisper, “So what’s up with the four of them?”

Lissa gives me a pleased, jovial look, as if she’s been waiting her entire life for someone to ask her that. She opens her mouth, and I brace myself for Hurricane Lissa.

“Well, they’ve all been best friends since they were kids. They used to have a fifth bestie until they all sort of had a falling out. Don’t ask me for the details—I don’t know them. Ethan issupersmart. Like, the smartest person in the entire school, except for maybe Ansel.

“And Emery is super athletic. He plays football and basketball and sometimes even baseball. Ashton is a mixture of both Ethan and Emery. He’s smart, but not in a way that’s super showy, you know? He doesn’t really care if he gets straight As, but I know that if he were to try, he would beat out even Ethan for valedictorian. He's a little weird, though. He’s almost always glued to his phone. Melissa James once told me it’s because he’s a member of the mafia, but I just think she’s full of shit.

“Then there’s Reid. He used to be the school’s ‘it boy,’ so to speak. He was insanely handsome, smart, funny, and charismatic. Then something went down with his ex-girlfriend, and he sort of fell to pieces. No one knows the full story, though.”

Lissa takes a long, exaggerated breath as if during that entire monologue, she didn’t inhale once. Come to think of it, her cheeks had begun to look a little blue…

I process the information she just threw at me.

Most of it I already knew or could infer, but a few snippets surprise me. Like the mysterious fifth member, for example, and Reid’s ex. She must’ve done a number on him to leave him so…disheveled.

“And have you heard any information about the vice principal? I’m surprised girls aren’t flaunting to his office left and right.”

Lissa’s nose crinkles. “Mr. Hedgerows? He’s, like, eighty and has a potbelly. And have you smelled him? Ewww.”

Mr. Hedgerows must’ve been the vice principal before Mr. Montgomery took over.

“I can answer this one, new girl.” Jake places his elbows on the table and leans forward so as to not be overheard by Hale, who’s still arguing with a stone-faced Seth. “Apparently the new vice principal started at the beginning of the school year, but he hasn’t been introduced to the student body yet. Probably because he’s young. Really young. Much too young to be a vice principal. But apparently he’s, like, a genius or something who graduated high school when he was fourteen and got his degree in Educational Administration shortly after. Don’t know how he got the job, though, when he doesn’t have any experience?—”

“His father’s on the board,” Hale interrupts, and my cheeks pinken at being caught gossiping about the new vice principal. “And there were…other circumstances.”

Hale focuses on his nearly empty plate of food.

“Other circumstances?” I furrow my brows.

Hale manages a weak chuckle. “Enough gossiping. We’re worse than old ladies in a nursing home, giggling about cute nurses while knitting blankets for our grandchildren.” He waves a negligent hand in the air. “Are you guys done? Jake, why don’t you show Izzy the game room. Lissa and I will clean up.”

I open my mouth to protest—after all, Hale spent all day making this fabulous dinner, and I want to show my appreciation—but Jake grabs me by the shoulders and steers me towards the hallway.

“Nope. No cleaning for you, missy. New girls don’t clean on their first day.” A beatific smile lights up his face. “Now, do you know how to shoot a zombie in the face?”

The “game room” is large and spacious, located at the end of the hallway. I'm surprised we didn’t visit it during the tour.

Then again, the tour did get kind of cut short when I flipped Jake and held a knife to his throat.

Oops.

Three leather couches face a flat-screen TV mounted to the wall. An assortment of gaming devices are connected to it. Behind the couches are a pool table, a closet full of board games, and what appears to be a toy chest for younger kids.

Before we entered the game room, I made a quick pit stop to change out of my fancy school clothes. I now wear a pair of leggings, an oversized sweatshirt, and a Yankees ball cap my baseball-loving foster dad bought me.

I curl my legs under my ass as I watch Jake grab two controllers for the PlayStation.

“Okay, we have some choices. We can playFortnite,Call of Duty,Resident Evil,Mario Kart, or?—”

“Anything’s fine,” I reply as my phone pings, signaling an incoming text.

I slide it out and smile when I see Emery’s name flashing on the screen.

Emery

You thinking about me yet?

Izzy