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Taryn
I MOVE TO THE COMMON room in a daze. Sibylle’s by the entrance, and she casts a long glance at me that almost makes me want to turn and run. But I hold my own, and I try to appear confident.
I need to find him.
And there he is. With it on. The beanie. God, he hasn’t even taken it off.
But why would he? He always wears it.
Lightheadedness pulls at me. I can’t believe he’d do something like this. Him, of all people.
I look around the room, trying to find something to focus on so I can steady myself. Everyone is here though, all those on the diploma, of all the years, and it seems too crowded now.
“So did it hurt at all, at the time?” Peter is asking.
Teddy shakes his head. “Nah, I was out of it during the actual procedure.”
“Obviously,” Xavier says.
I clear my throat. I’m right behind them, and I don’t remember walking up to them. It’s almost like I didn’t. Like there’s been some glitch, and I’m just suddenly here.
Teddy turns to me. “Taryn!” His enthusiasm doesn’t betray any ounce of his deception.
“Hi.” My voice is a squeal.
I don’t understand. Why would he be after me?
Peter’s eyes widen when he sees me, and then he’s leaning across to Robert and Xavier, saying something behind his hand in an obviously theatrical way. Has Teddy told them already about trying to trick me into eating fructose? Or laxatives?
They’re all looking at me. Expecting me to have diarrhea or something right now?
I feel sick.
But why would Teddy of all people be trying to sabotage me?
Wait. The messages started before he returned to the academy after his injury.
And a beanie doesn’t mean it’s him.
Anyone can wear one. It’s not patented to Teddy.
But they’re all looking at me. And now they’re laughing too.
“Yep, she’s frigid,” a second-year student says.
Frigid?
I freeze.
“Nah, she’s with Teddy,” another says.
“Yeah, but they never do anything.” Peter’s face has never looked so crimson. “Do you, Teds?”
Teddy goes red, rivalling Peter’s hue. He looks at me, his eyes wide. “I never said any of this.”
There’s a low hoot of laughter from Xavier. “But we know it’s true. You were my roommate, and you never brought her back there—you know, properly—the whole time.”
“Because she wouldn’t let you?” Peter looks like he’s about to burst with excitement from this conversation.
“Well, I know why,” Freya says suddenly, from a sofa on the other side of the room. “She’s asexual.”