Page 25 of Depraved Boys

“Rules?”

“Devil’s bargains.” He gestured for me to walk with him down a hallway with wooden floors. “I can’t describe it.”

Gulping, I glanced around. This place had to be the attic, the location of the scholars’ common room. “Can you give me an example of what you mean?”

“If she gave up chocolate, then Sebastian might smile at her. If she failed Advanced Calculus, Prakash would offer to help. That sort of thing.”

“Did she get counseling?”

Cormac opened the door to a large room lined with worn sofas. At the far corner stood a kitchenette complete with a fridge-freezer and a table-top stove. After stepping inside, he said, “Corrine refused to cooperate with any counselors. One of the rules she made up was that if she refused help, the kings would see her commitment and make her their queen.”

Curiosity burned in my chest, and I blurted out, “Did her bargains get dangerous?”

His eyes shuttered closed. “Like if I swallow these pills, one of the kings will appear at my bedside and declare his love?”

“Did she do that?”

“And more.” He picked up a kettle, held it under the tap, and turned on the water.

“Did the kings encourage her behavior?”

His head dropped to his chest, and he placed the kettle onto the bottom of the sink. “Sorry. It’s too soon.”

My heart jumped into my throat, and I turned off the water. “O-of course. I-I’m sorry for delving.”

“Miss Claymore says I need to talk about these things,” he said, voice choked. “I suppose it’s best not to unload everything onto a stranger.”

“You weren’t unloading.” I placed a hand on his arm and squeezed. “You were trying to help me.”

“Did it work?”

“It’s made me realize what’s important.” After replacing the lid on the kettle, I poured out the excess water and plugged it into the wall socket. It was time for a nice cup of tea. Maybe even a whole pot.

“Good,” he said. “Because I’m not sure I can take another girl falling to ruin because of their sick games.”

From that moment, I spent most of my free time in the scholars’ common room, away from Ashley. And I kept our conversations to a minimum. Ever since we had moved out of London, she had done a lot of shitty things. Stood by while people insulted me for not looking as svelte as her, skipped out on family events to party with friends, and delivered barbed comments on my appearance.

I’d thought that her theft of Jerome had been bad, but this was the first time she’d laughed at my public humiliation.

Cormac and I sat together at mealtimes and in all classes except Advanced Calculus, which I shared with Prakash, who only addressed me to ask when I was leaving Brittas Academy.

Sometimes, I would catch Sebastian looking in my direction from the opposite end of a classroom, but I always turned away. It wasn’t as if I had planned on seeing him again after that night, but the incident in the dining room had soured the memory of my first kiss.

Geraldine and Bianca made half-hearted slurs about the pull-a-pig prank. A few of the girls who orbited them joined in, but it didn’t have the same impact as that first time. After about two weeks, they became background nuisances I tolerated for the sake of the monthly bursary Mrs. Benazir deposited into my bank account.

About two weeks into my time at Brittas Academy, a note arrived in my pigeonhole from Miss Claymore, demanding my presence in her office the next day before breakfast. Since no one had complained about my grades, I guessed she wanted to speak to me about the bullying.

Her office was located at the far end of the first floor above Mrs. Benazir’s and consisted of bookshelf-lined walls laden with leather tomes. A chaise lounge lay in the corner of the room, the kind I imagined would grace a Victorian fainting room, but I couldn’t picture such a severe woman ever using such a decadent piece of furniture.

Miss Claymore rose from her desk and stared down at me with a gaze so intense, it felt like a laser boring into my soul. “Do you know why I’ve called you here, Miss Evergreen?”

I gulped and sent out a silent prayer that the reason had nothing to do with Sebastian. “No, Miss.”

“Your sister is skipping classes. At the rate she’s truanting, she has no chance of achieving an A in next year’s A-Levels.”

“Oh.”

The deputy headmistress folded her arms across her chest. “I believe that one of the conditions of her admittance was your ninety-five percent average?”