Page 57 of Ghost Ribbon

I exhaled slowly through my nose, the frustration twisting together in my chest. This obsession was getting worse. It was twisting things inside me I didn’t recognize, making me react with violence toward people I didn’t want to use it against. Ilya wasn’t some random idiot at school. He was one of us.

I looked back up at him, forcing my expression to stay neutral even though the urge to reach out and check his wrist properly was stronger than I wanted to admit.

***

I stepped into the cafeteria, eyes cutting straight across the room until they landed on the table in the back corner.

Marco was there.

Not alone.

A girl sat beside him, Sasha. I knew her. She was always appearing when Rei wasn’t around, because I think he didn’t like her. Oh look, we have that in common.

His tray sat in front of him, some sad sandwich. Good thing I came prepared.

I crossed the room, ignoring the few glances that followed me. When I reached their table I simply reached down, picked up Marco’s tray, and dumped the entire thing straight into the nearest trash bin. In its place I set down the plate I had brought with me.

Grilled chicken breast, perfectly seasoned with herbs. Steamed broccoli and carrots. A small portion of quinoa mixed with olive oil and lemon. Sliced avocado on the side. A few fresh strawberries at the edge, because I knew he liked them.

Marco blinked up at me, fork still halfway to his mouth even though his plate was gone.

“What is this?” he asked, pointing at the new plate.

“Your food,” I said.

I pulled out the chair beside him and sat down without asking. Sasha was still there, watching the whole exchange with her mouth slightly open. I turned my head just enough to look at her.

“Move.”

She hesitated, then slowly slid out of the seat and moved to the one across from us.

“This isn’t from the cafeteria,” he said after a second, poking at the quinoa with his fork. “We don’t have this on the menu.”

“The menu is shit,” I answered, leaning back in the chair and resting one arm along the back of his. “This is better. Eat it.”

Sasha leaned forward from across the table, eyes bright. “That looks really good. Can I try some?”

She extended her hand toward the plate like she was going to take a piece of chicken. I picked up a fork, reached across, and swatted her hand away with the back of it before she could touch anything. The plastic tines clicked against her fingers. She pulled back fast, eyes widening.

Marco’s face went red. “I’m sorry, Sasha—”

“Don’t apologize for me,” I cut in.

Marco’s shoulders had gone rigid beside me. I felt the shift in his body before I even glanced at him. His lips pressed together into a thin, anxious line, the way they always did when he was trying to swallow panic.

Sasha recovered faster than I expected.

“I’m sorry,” she said, voice light and sweet like syrup. “I didn’t mean to. I just thought it looked good. My bad.”

She looked at Marco first, then let her gaze slide over to me.

“I didn’t know you were friends with one of the Void Kings, Marco,” she said, tilting her head. “That’s… new.”

Marco’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. He just pressed his lips together harder.

I answered before he could find his voice.

“I’m not his friend.”