As they made their way into the classroom, Cassie’s attention was drawn to a pale, nervous red-headed girl who had dropped her maths books outside the glass door. A tall boy appeared slickly at her side. He crouched down to help, touching the redhead’s elbow in a way that sent a visible shiver through the poor creature. She gazed at him awestruck as he passed her books into her arms, and finally Cassie caught sight of his face. Foppishly handsome, with a dazzling grin.
Richard Halton-Jones.
Cassie felt cold. Obviously he hadn’t changed: still an incorrigible flirt. Show him someone – anyone – that walked upright on two legs and he just couldn’t help himself. She’d once thought it was endearing; now the memory of their last encounter felt like a punch in the stomach. She’d liked him, trusted him, even started to believe that he was interested in her too, and look where that had got her. Richard was the one who’d lured her to the Arc de Triomphe and a ceremony she’d wanted no part of. She didn’t care that it was at the request of the elderly Madame Azzedine, who had taken a shine to Cassie, and deemed her the perfect new host. If it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t be in this mess.
Averting her eyes sharply, she edged past Richard and into the classroom, hoping he wouldn’t take any notice of her. After all, he was lucky he hadn’t been expelled. Surely even someone that brazen must be ashamed to be around her after what he had done …
Apparently not. A hand squeezed her arm, halting her in her tracks.
‘You have no idea,’ he murmured, ‘how different you look.’
She spun on her heel to glare at him.
Around them, the last students were rushing into class, still loud with gossip and the excitement of a new term, but Herr Stolz was now standing at the front of the room, clearing his throat, tapping his fingers on the desk.
Richard ignored him. ‘Hello, Cassie.’
‘Class is starting,’ she said crisply.
He ignored that as well. ‘You look … amazing.’
‘Thanks.’ Her voice was arctic.
‘Ah. You sound different, too.’
Was she imagining it, or was that a touch of sadness in his voice? Who cared? Turning away, she saw Isabella breeze into the classroom and fling herself at Jake, almost toppling his seat over. That raised a smile, though Cassie noticed that Jake, who had been scribbling furiously in a notebook, still looked a little distracted. Cassie frowned – after all the time it had taken for Isabella to win him over, she’d have hoped Jake would pay her best friend a little more attention. She slid into a seat next to the pair.
‘Steady on, Isabella! You’ll damage the furniture.’
‘Ah, Cassie! There you are! Fear not, Jake’s manly body is sturdy enough to hold little old me.’ Isabella fluttered her eyelashes at her boyfriend, who finally put down his pen and swiftly kissed her nose.
Surveying the room properly for the first time, Cassie realised that the sleek, modern desks and chairs were probably too well-made to give way in any case. They were fantastically stylish compared with the traditional wooden furniture that had filled the Academy back in Paris. In fact, they looked as if they’d been carved from lumps of blue ice by Phillipe Starck himself.
‘Cassie!’
She turned to see where the call had come from, and found herself staring at a small clique sitting at the back of the classroom, slightly apart from their fellow students. Some of them seemed to regard her with loathing, some with cautious smiles, but all were, without exception, stunningly good-looking.
The Few. Her new ‘family’.
Ayeesha and her Irish boyfriend Cormac, two of the more friendly-looking, waved enthusiastically. The Bajan girl called her name again and beckoned her towards an empty desk next to where they were sitting. Ayeesha looked genuinely welcoming, and didn’t make Cassie’s antennae tingle the way some of the others did. Surely she hadn’t been one of the dark, hooded figures at the Arc de Triomphe ceremony. Surely … Remembering the sinister horror, Cassie shivered.
‘I think you’re being summoned,’ Jake said, his dry humour not quite covering the note of disdain in his voice.
Cassie averted her eyes hurriedly. ‘Don’t be daft. I’m not going over there. I’m sitting with you guys, same as always.’
‘Ah, we are honoured, Ms Bell!’ A mischievous singsong lilt was in Isabella’s voice, but Cassie’s sideways look stopped her short. The last thing she needed was to give the impression that she wanted to be treated differently now, especially around Jake – she was already wary of his feelings towards her.
Cassie nudged Jake and forced herself to smile. ‘Oh, I get it. You want to get rid of the third wheel so you can have Isabella all to yourself, eh?’
Jake chuckled and held up his hands in mock protest, but his grin quickly faded as he glanced at someone approaching behind her. ‘I think we have the full complement of wheels,’ he muttered, turning away.
‘Is this seat taken?’
Cassie looked up sharply and her heartbeat broke into a sprint.
‘Ranjit!’ Cassie felt her face redden at the undisguised enthusiasm in her voice. ‘Um, hi. No, it’s not taken.’
‘Can we come to order, please?’ At the front of the classroom Herr Stolz was attempting, with little success, to exert his authority. ‘Welcome back, all of you. Mr Singh, if you could take a seat, please? We must begin.’
Ranjit nodded a nonchalant apology in Herr Stolz’s direction before sliding elegantly into the chair beside her. Isabella looked at Cassie and giggled; Jake remained silent and unsmiling. Ignoring the low ripples of surprise surrounding her (maybe not everyone in the school had seen their clinch in the atrium after all), Cassie opened her textbook and smoothed down its pages carefully. She flushed as Ranjit half-turned his head to her and smiled.