Page 27 of Divine Oaths

“Are only fourth-year students allowed in this courtyard? Or are freshmen allowed to use this building too?” another voice said, this one higher.

“While this area is restricted, it houses a statue of one of our founders, a beacon of the diversity Westfield has always modeled itself after,” Provost Henning said, seemingly pleased with herself, despite the fact that the statue was hidden and sectioned off from the rest of Westfield.

At my side, Honey hurried to rebutton her shirt. But her hands trembled, and she couldn’t seem to see beyond her tears.

“You were supposed to be on the tour with them,” she said, looking at me now. “Provost Henning’s the head of student academic affairs. She wanted to run the orientation tour for Poppy House this year. That’s why I made you guys stay in your dorm instead of joining the orientation tour. It’s because scholarship students get their own tour.”

Kasem knelt beside her.

“Don’t take it personally. This is how Westfield is. You know that.”

“But I didn’t follow instructions. I was supposed to come back for them and I didn’t.” She wiped her snot-filled face. “And now they’re going to see me like this. I’m going to lose my job.”

“No one will say anything. Honey, stop crying,” he whispered.

“He’s right,” Alaster said. “Resident assistant is barely a real job. And for Poppy House? Those handouts are sucking this school dry. If anything, he’s the one who should be frightened. Not you.” I winced at the vicious bite to Alaster’s words, but Kasem and Honey seemed unaffected.

“That’s what people call you guys here,” Kasem explained, turning to me instead. “‘Handout students.’ ‘Welfare Poppies.’ It’s incredibly trite, but since you’re here, let me give you some advice. Turn around. Leave while you can. You’re not going to make it at Westfield. None of you are.”

The steely weight of his warning was clear, heavy. An echo of Jojo’s words to me.

Something had changed since he’d first come to the pawnshop looking for my help. It was like a switch had flipped in Kasem, and he was doing everything in his power to pretend like I wasn’t here because of him.

Behind us, the footsteps and voices grew closer.

“Call me when you’re back at your dorm,” Alaster said to Honey.

“Don’t speak to her,” Kasem snapped.

“Kasem, stop,” Honey whimpered. “Please.”

But the sound of their arguing had long since projected through the courtyard.

“Out. Now,” Provost Henning shouted. “Whoever you are, I demand you come out at once.”

“Relax, Provost Henning,” another voice said. “I’ll go and check to see who it is.”

I could recognize Jojo’s voice from anywhere, and sure enough, there he appeared at the turn of the corner in the maze.

He glanced between Alaster and Honey, and then to me and Kasem.

“Provost Henning,” he said, his voice loud, his gaze locked on us. “I suggest we end the tour early.”

From the other side of the maze, the students began to speculate among themselves.

Honey looked helpless and took a step toward Jojo. “It’s not what it looks like, Ojore.”

But Jojo wouldn’t look at her. He stormed to where Kasem and I were, making the same assumptions that Honey and Alaster had.

“If you did something to her—” he warned.

Kasem yanked his hand out of Jojo’s hold.

His lips pursed, a light of hurt cutting into his expression. It was there for a second and then it was gone, disintegrating beneath a cool mask of disinterest.

“As if I’d hurt her,” he said, releasing his hold on me.

His blazer was still draped over me, and it held traces of salt and sweat and him. I folded it in my arms and handed it to Kasem, flustered by his unwavering gaze and his lingering touch when he grabbed it.