Page 42 of Echoes of the Banshee

He shakes his head, still staring at me.

“You heading to dinner?” I ask.

“I usually get something to go,” he tells me and I can hear the unspoken truth, that he doesn’t get to eat in peace.

“I can’t promise that I won’t get my share of stink potions thrown my way.” I wink at him. “But let me buy you dinner.”

He studies me for a moment. “Okay.”

He grabs a plain chicken breast and vegetables. His eyes widen at me piling up two servings of enchiladas. We make our way to a corner table and I ask him about his favorite trips to buy time to inhale my enchiladas.

When I look up he’s staring at me.

“What? Not my fault you didn’t order anything with flavor.” I smile, wishing I’d grabbed more.

“I’ve never seen a witch eat like that,” he finally says.

“That’s a them problem.”

He laughs. “Really, you—”

“Adora!” Anita’s shrill voice invades our space. Guess I should’ve expected that.

“Anita,” I greet calmly. “That isn’t my name.”

She looks around the room before casting an illusion to muffle our voices. That’s ominous.

“You ditched me to hang out with this… thing.” She sneers at Mavrik.

“We had plans?” I ask. Honestly, I have no clue.

“It’s Thursday.”

Ah yes. The day I go clean her room and do her homework. Thinking I’m special.

“Is it really?”

“Yes!” her voice carries even with the spell. “And I find you here, with him.” She looks Mavrik over in disgust. “I know you are lonely since Ethan dumped you, but letting yourself go.” She gestures to my empty plate. “Going out with someone who’s mentally disturbed—”

“Enough,” I snap. “I don’t want to hang out with you. Not today. Not any other day.”

“Theadora, sister,” she says softly. I risk a glance at Mavrik who’s wide-eyed. Crap.

“Go away.” I let the malice show in my eyes. She studies me, then huffs out a breath.

“You are obviously distressed. I’ll see that you get help.”

She turns on her heels and leaves. Once she steps outside, the illusion spell snaps. The normal noise of the cafeteria rushing in.

Slowly I peek over at Mavrik, unable to hide the grimace. He stands and leaves.

My head hits the table hard. The cold linoleum not helping the feelings of disappointment. He was my best candidate for Lazlo, already scared away by Anita.

I focus on my breathing, remind myself there are still other candidates.

The sound of a plate being set on my table makes me jerk upright. Mavrik passes me a plate with two more enchiladas and then sets another identical plate in front of himself.

“Witches should live for themselves,” he says. Taking a bite, he makes a face of pure pleasure. “Oh my god.”