Night School: Legacy

Allie winced; Clair was his ex.

‘No, because Clair’s not in … well, you know what. So that would be weird.’ He rolled his eyes but before he could interrupt her she added, ‘But if you were practising with Jules? Yes. I’d be fine with that. And if you were studying with Clair? Yes, I’d be fine with that. Because I trust you.’

‘Oh really? Well, I might just put that to the test,’ he said, stalking off.

‘Carter,’ she called after him but he didn’t look back. With a sigh, she heaved her bag on to her shoulder and followed him into class.

Isabelle always arranged the desks in a circle for what she called her English ‘seminar’. Carter sat moodily to one side avoiding her eyes, his long legs stretched out towards the centre.

She was trying to decide whether to sit next to him when Zoe bounded over, her brown eyes bright. Dressed in her school uniform, with prim white socks and loafers, she looked more like a little girl than a martial arts expert with personal boundary issues.

‘Allie!’ she said. ‘I looked all over for you last night.’

‘Yeah,’ Allie said vaguely, ‘I …’

Without waiting for her to finish, Zoe continued in a low voice. ‘I had a long talk with Mr Patel and he explained what I was doing wrong. It was totally my fault you were so lame at it. He told me not to hurt you any more.’ She winced. ‘He was kind of firm about that. Did I hurt you?’

Allie thought about how her back had ached when she climbed into bed last night, and the humiliating experience of finding herself staring up at that stupid ceiling over and over again. Then she looked into Zoe’s curious eyes.

‘Nah.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m still in one piece.’

‘Aces,’ the girl said with clear relief. ‘I won’t hurt you tonight. I’ve been practising.’

‘Me too—’

‘Take your seats, please.’ Isabelle’s words interrupted their conversation.

Just as Isabelle started the class, Sylvain walked in. His eyes met Allie’s and for a second she froze, terrified he’d sit next to her. Her eyes darted to Carter, who stared at them both with narrowed eyes.

But Sylvain slid into the seat next to Nicole, who Allie hadn’t noticed before. She leaned over to whisper something that made him laugh. Watching them made Allie feel strangely hollow.

‘This term,’ Isabelle said, walking around the room putting a book on each desk, ‘we’re focusing on early twentieth-century literature. Our schedule is tight – we will be reading four books. The first is Edith Wharton’s The Age of Innocence …’

As she talked, Allie couldn’t resist glancing over at Carter. He was studying the book cover so intently he might have been trying to memorise it. He didn’t look at her.


‘So far, so painful,’ Jo said, sipping from her glass of water. ‘I’ve got enough prep for a week and it’s only the first day.’

‘Me too,’ Allie sighed. The others agreed.

They were sitting at their usual table in the crowded and boisterous dining hall. Around them the roar of conversation ebbed and flowed in a tidal pattern.

When they’d first walked in, their table had again been occupied by younger students, but Lucas had leaned over to have a quiet word with them.

‘Now,’ Jo had said with satisfaction after the young students left in a rush, ‘it’s ours for ever.’

Rachel and Lucas sat across the table, laughing. Allie liked how much time they spent together these days. They looked cosy. She kept hoping they’d get together properly. Rachel had liked Lucas since her first day at Cimmeria. But nothing except friendship had ever happened between them.

Carter walked up shortly afterward, taking a seat next to Jo without a word to Allie. Noticing this, Rachel glanced at Allie and artfully arched one eyebrow.

Allie shook her head and mouthed, ‘Later.’

Allie’s eyes drifted to the table next to them, where Sylvain sat next to Nicole. Maybe Rachel was wrong and they were ‘on again’. They were always together. He smiled at something Nicole said, then, as if he’d felt Allie’s gaze, glanced up. When their eyes met, he looked at Allie curiously, as if he wondered what she was thinking.

Flushing, she dropped her gaze to her plate.

‘So, is everyone going straight to the library after dinner?’ Rachel asked. ‘I’ve got, like, no option.’

‘Oh yes,’ Jo said airily. ‘We’ll all be there. The educational torture of Cimmeria Academy has begun.

‘Did Zelazny assign everybody else essays?’ Allie asked, and the others nodded.

‘Two thousand words.’ Lucas took a bite of bread. ‘The man’s a sadist.’

‘We should revolt,’ Jo suggested. ‘An uprising of the privileged.’