Page 32 of If The Shoe Fits
“Did you guys all eat the same thing at lunch today?” I ask.
“I had a taco,” Matthew replies.
“Nah, I ate pizza rolls,” Brian, his best bud answers.
I go down the list, asking all five the same question. But it seems like I’m wrong.
They all ate something different for lunch.
But now they look like they’re about to be sick.
“Okay,” I say, forcing a calm, authoritative tone.
“Let’s all focus on making sure you three are healthy, and then we can talk about the ball. Agatha, can you help them to the nurse’s office?”
She nods, giving me a knowing look as I step back, my mind already racing.
Because something is definitely not right, and I have a sinking feeling it has everything to do with magic.
“So strange,” I mutter as I watch them turn down the hall.
Illness, magical or not, is not my specialty. Agatha is making sure the three boys are being seen in the infirmary, and that’s good enough for me.
I make a mental note to follow up on them later.
After the great Influenza epidemic of 1857, the Academy has very strict rules when it comes to the potential outbreaks of any kind.
Fifteen minutes later, Agatha rejoins me, a faint sheen of sweat on her brow as we wrestle the last of the decorations onto the now overflowing cart of things we are gathering for the big event.
“Hey, did you hear about Principal Tremayne’s new rule?” she asks casually as we wheel our enormous collection towards the ballroom.
I work hard—so hard—to pretend hearing his name doesn’t affect me.
Like, at all.
It’s been days since ourinteractionin his office, and things have been silent on that front.
No smoldering glances. No growly declarations.
No sudden interruptions todiscuss matters privately, like some smexy office romance.
But Goddess, do I miss him.
The doubts have been relentless, dogging me day and night.
What if I was right all along?
What if he’s already over whatever had made him think I was his?
What if it wasn’t real—none of it?
Not the attraction.
Not the ridiculous, heart-stopping claims that I’m his mate.
I repeat, what if none of it was real?
And doesn’t that just suck harder than a vampire at a plasma drive?
