Page 135 of Depraved Boys

In the hallway, Prakash pushed himself off the wall where he’d been waiting. “What did Dr. Forrester say?”

“He blamed the Chinese herbs.”

“Typical,” he spat.

“What?”

We walked down the hallway to the nearest stairwell. “There is more than one system of medicine. In India, we have Ayurveda.” He checked his watch. “Are you also free this period?”

“Now that I’ve given up swimming, I am.”

He gave me a tiny smile. “I can make you a cup of tea in my room, if you like.”

Butterflies took flight in my stomach. The drunken evening aside, I’d never spent much time alone with Prakash. This might be an excellent opportunity to get to know him.

We walked up the stairs to the top floor, passed Cormac’s room, and entered a huge study bedroom nearly twice the size of my best friend’s.

My gaze roved over an array of beautiful landscape and architectural paintings to a photo of Prakash with a stunning woman wearing colorful, gold jewelry. From the way his gaze wandered to her instead of the photographer, it was clear he loved her very much.

“Is that your mother in the photo?”

He chuckled.

“What’s so funny?”

“You asked that same question the first time you came here.” He gestured for me to sit on a leather sofa.

My stomach twisted into knots, and my gaze lingered over his full, kissable lips. Had I come here for a cup of tea or to make out?

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Prakash only wanted to give me a cup of peppermint tea to soothe my stomach. I told him what I had heard on the stairs, mostly as a way to get him to open up about his relationship with Corrine, but he changed the subject. Instead, I focused on the hot drink calming my insides.

Afterward, Prakash and I walked down to lunch. I sat at the royal table, looking out for signs of Cormac, but he wasn’t there, and neither was Geraldine.

Bianca glowered at me from the table she now shared with Bruce and the auburn-haired twins. I ignored her and focussed on my minestrone. Hopefully, Cormac and Geraldine hadn’t gone missing together to take incriminating photos.

“Are you feeling better?” asked Prakash.

“A bit,” I replied. “Throwing up the contents of my stomach seems to have gotten rid of most of the nausea.”

“Maybe when we get a chance to visit the hideout, I’ll talk about Corrine after a few drinks.”

My heart softened. At least he wasn’t completely shutting down. “That bad?”

He grimaced. “Worse than you can imagine.”

I picked up a slice of bread and dipped it into my soup. If only my memories could return. Then I’d be able to build on what I already knew without bothering Prakash for information he might have already shared.

Cormac strode through the dining room to the head table, and whispered something to Miss Claymore, who stood. Then the pair rushed out together, presumably to the scene of a student misdemeanor.

“This place is so strange,” I said.

“What do you mean?” Prakash picked up his knife and fork.

“The bullying is more intense than my previous school.”

He cut a slice of his roasted vegetable quiche. “My school in Switzerland was bad, but it was nothing compared to the brutality of the Brittas Academy.”