Fletcher—who had been chewing pasta and spouting pointless trivia—froze and gaped.
He blinked at me. "Cain?" he asked, as if seeking confirmation.
I snorted. "Does it take your brain that long to process this?"
"Cain?" he repeated.
I snorted again, this time with mild disgust. "Cain!" He shot to his feet and flung his arms out.
Knowing exactly what scene he intended to perform, I tried to shove him away. Too late.
"Oh my God, Cain. Honestly, I thought I'd never see you again. Thank God, thank God."
A wet, nauseating sense of déjà vu ran down my back, and I forcibly disentangled myself from that idiotic embrace. I knew immediately it wasn't tears when I noticed snot sliding from his nose.
"You… bastard." I rubbed the back of my neck and found something sticky and green clinging there.
Fletcher kept dabbing at his ridiculous 'tears'. He'd pay for that, sure as hell.
"You two… actually know each other?" Bianca asked at last, cautiously.
I clicked my tongue. "Reluctantly, yes." Fletcher and I had been in the same school since middle school; he'd gone to Riverdale High because I did.
So is that why he moved here, too? "Don't you get bored tailing me around?"
"Tailing? Pfft, how rude. I'm here on a matter of justice."
Same old line—and for once, it wasn't entirely implausible. Fletcher had always been more suited to Hunter School.
He'd been blessed with genes that made him noticeably bigger than kids his age. Annoyingly, my height barely reached his chin, and I'm supposed to be tall for my age.
"And there's one more thing—a last message from Theo."
I went cold. "What happened to him?" I asked, forcing myself to stay calm while my mind ran through worst-case scenarios.
"He started school again today. His healing's reached the final stage," Bianca cut in before Fletcher could add anything.
"Dawson!" Fletcher of course protested.
"Cain's really worried about you, you know. It's not right to prank him and make him worry more."
Fletcher clicked his tongue in irritation. "I wanted to see that 'worry' in person. Don't you want to see Cain freak out a little more?"
"Uh, sure—I mean, no. Why would I want that?"
I could only snort. So he can actually recover. A strange part of me had hoped otherwise. What he said about Fiona was unforgivable; maybe death would have been too merciful.
Consider this a final warning: if he dares it again, I'll be the one to give him that 'gift'.
"So, you're in the same class?"
Fletcher blinked, then offered that annoying, crooked smile. "Yep. What, jealous? Be careful, I might steal your girl~"
"I'd hardly worry if it were you."
Fletcher and Bianca both stared. "Okay, buddy, stop right there. Wait, are you… into that thing? I mean, as a friend I accept you the way you are, but saying it outright in front of your girlfriend—"
"By the way, I came with a friend." I turned to introduce Freya, who'd just realized I'd been ignoring her—blame Fletcher and his long-winded, idiotic confession.
When I turned, though, a larger, rougher hand caught mine.
It belonged to a young man with messy brown dreadlocks I'd become familiar with recently.
"We've only talked a few times and I'm already a 'friend'? I'm moved." Weinstein plopped down and slung an arm across my shoulders.
He wasn't alone—five others had shown up uninvited and clustered at our table.
"A girlfriend, huh? Didn't see that coming. And she's a looker. Sorry, Navi, your chances end here."
A girl with a nose ring snorted and rolled her eyes. "I never even had my radar on a loser like him."
"Oh please," someone shot back, "said the one who blew her entire month's allowance betting that the so-called loser would end up falling for her—"
"You…"
"Hey," I said as steadily as I could. "What are you doing?"
"Huh? We came to keep you company. We're friends, right?"
"I don't remember inviting you."
"Now that's cold. We just became friends and you're already shutting us out—"
"Leave."
Weinstein grinned, his nasty fingers digging into my shoulder with an insistently tight, dominance-claiming grip.
It hurt and pissing me off.
"Make me, then."
I gritted my teeth. Tried to return the grip by grabbing his hand and twisting it until it would break—
Splash!
But Bianca beat me to it.
She lifted her half-full glass of lemon juice and tipped it straight into Weinstein's face.
Because of how close we were, I got a fair bit of the splash too. Bianca's eyes, though, bored into Weinstein with lethal focus. "Don't cross the line, asshole."
Everyone froze. Weinstein, his friends, everyone in the cafeteria watching.
So I moved first.
Thud!
CRACK!
I elbowed Weinstein's nose hard enough to make a crisp cracking sound, but it was drowned by the thud of him staggering and his neck hitting another bench.
"Shit—"
One of his friends stood up, but his eyes widened instantly. I looked down—Fletcher had already punched him in the gut.
Another guy charged at me, and at the right moment, when he had the nerve to grin thinking he'd land a punch on my cheek, I delivered a sweet surprise uppercut to his square jaw.
He quivered in place, teeth rattling. His jaw might dislocate; I followed with a straight side that rattled his cheek.
The two girls who'd been with them had already fled, leaving a single student standing frozen.
Fletcher and I fixed him with hard stares, waiting for any foolish move.
He turned and stalked off, muttering threats. "You'll pay for this, mark my words."
"How could you let him go, Cain? If he calls his crew, we'll be shredded."
I ignored Fletcher's warning and approached Weinstein, still slumped and twitching.
He might have a mild concussion, or maybe his neck was broken. And I figured this Hunter School was supposed to be full of people who were at least somewhat tough, if they had any sense.
"I warned you, didn't I?"