Read Online Free to Fall by Lauren Miller - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lauren Miller
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saw a thick, shimmery, uppercase G etched into its surface. My eyes flicked to the plate dispenser and saw another G there. Gnosis hadn’t just donated the classroom gadgets; they’d stocked the dining hall too.
Hershey had moved from the lettuce to the cucumbers. I followed along behind her, mechanically dropping toppings onto my plate. The produce on the salad bar was bright and colorful and fresh, certified organic and sourced from a nearby farm, but I wasn’t hungry for it. The Doubt had stolen my appetite.
“You think he’s single?” I heard Hershey ask. I followed her gaze. Rudd had just emerged from the hot-food line.
“He’s a teacher.”
“He’s not my teacher,” Hershey replied, nudging me with her hip. “And he’s not wearing a ring.”
She waggled her eyebrows and headed to the pasta bar while I looked for a place to sit. Back home, I never ate in the lunchroom. Beck and I always spent our free period off campus, opting out of the social hierarchy. Standing there alone with my tray, I remembered why. I shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. There weren’t any empty tables.
“C’mon,” Hershey said behind me, sauntering past me with her tray.
We sat at a table by the window with two girls from Hershey’s section, Rachel and Isabel, and the three of them gossiped about the other members of their section and their faculty adviser’s fashion sense while I picked at my salad.
“Ugh, you’re so good,” I heard Isabel say. She had pale blond hair and wore glasses that I’m pretty sure cost more than my whole wardrobe. “I suck at food,” she explained, gesturing at the half-eaten cheeseburger on her place, wedged between a pile of French fries and a mountain of mac and cheese. “I’m eleven pounds over Lux’s recommended weight,” she said. “Which I know I should loathe and feel motivated to do something about, but I just don’t care that much, you know? I like the way I look. And the way fries taste.” She eyed my salad. “Meanwhile, I’ll bet you picked that without even asking Lux. Which is why you’re, like, half my size.”
I was about to tell her that I actually hated salad when I heard Hershey mutter, “Help, I think I just fell asleep,” under her breath.
“Hey, girls.” Liam smiled affably as he slid into an empty seat next to me. “How’s the first day going?”
“Swell,” replied Hershey, managing to sound both bored and sarcastic. Liam was undeterred.
“Who are your advisers?” he asked. “I’ll give you the dirt.”
“The dirt?”
Liam smiled conspiratorially. “You’d be surprised. Some of our faculty—”
“Showing these young women the ropes, Liam?”
Liam straightened his shoulders at the sound of the dean’s voice, sitting taller in his seat. Dean Atwater had come up behind us. Hershey smirked. She’d obviously seen him coming and hadn’t said anything.
“Trying my best,” said Liam easily, his eyes on Hershey.
“Not that this one needs your help,” Dean Atwater said. I glanced at Hershey, expecting some clever response, but she was staring openly at me. So were the other girls. I looked up at Dean Atwater. He was looking at me, too. “You’re our only Hepta this year,” he said when I met his gaze.
Hepta. It was the Greek prefix for the number seven. I’d looked it up in the student handbook when I saw it in my acceptance letter, in a box labeled “academic designation.” It meant I had a natural aptitude for all seven liberal arts subjects. I’d just assumed it was a common thing at Theden.
“Our class didn’t have one,” Liam said, not even attempting to keep the surprise out of his voice.
“Neither did the class before,” Dean Atwater added. “Which makes Rory quite exceptional.” He put his hand on my shoulder. Hershey’s eyes narrowed.
“Oh,” I said, because I didn’t know what to say. I kept my face neutral, but my insides soared. Quite exceptional. Here. At Theden. Dean Atwater gave me a
Hershey had moved from the lettuce to the cucumbers. I followed along behind her, mechanically dropping toppings onto my plate. The produce on the salad bar was bright and colorful and fresh, certified organic and sourced from a nearby farm, but I wasn’t hungry for it. The Doubt had stolen my appetite.
“You think he’s single?” I heard Hershey ask. I followed her gaze. Rudd had just emerged from the hot-food line.
“He’s a teacher.”
“He’s not my teacher,” Hershey replied, nudging me with her hip. “And he’s not wearing a ring.”
She waggled her eyebrows and headed to the pasta bar while I looked for a place to sit. Back home, I never ate in the lunchroom. Beck and I always spent our free period off campus, opting out of the social hierarchy. Standing there alone with my tray, I remembered why. I shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. There weren’t any empty tables.
“C’mon,” Hershey said behind me, sauntering past me with her tray.
We sat at a table by the window with two girls from Hershey’s section, Rachel and Isabel, and the three of them gossiped about the other members of their section and their faculty adviser’s fashion sense while I picked at my salad.
“Ugh, you’re so good,” I heard Isabel say. She had pale blond hair and wore glasses that I’m pretty sure cost more than my whole wardrobe. “I suck at food,” she explained, gesturing at the half-eaten cheeseburger on her place, wedged between a pile of French fries and a mountain of mac and cheese. “I’m eleven pounds over Lux’s recommended weight,” she said. “Which I know I should loathe and feel motivated to do something about, but I just don’t care that much, you know? I like the way I look. And the way fries taste.” She eyed my salad. “Meanwhile, I’ll bet you picked that without even asking Lux. Which is why you’re, like, half my size.”
I was about to tell her that I actually hated salad when I heard Hershey mutter, “Help, I think I just fell asleep,” under her breath.
“Hey, girls.” Liam smiled affably as he slid into an empty seat next to me. “How’s the first day going?”
“Swell,” replied Hershey, managing to sound both bored and sarcastic. Liam was undeterred.
“Who are your advisers?” he asked. “I’ll give you the dirt.”
“The dirt?”
Liam smiled conspiratorially. “You’d be surprised. Some of our faculty—”
“Showing these young women the ropes, Liam?”
Liam straightened his shoulders at the sound of the dean’s voice, sitting taller in his seat. Dean Atwater had come up behind us. Hershey smirked. She’d obviously seen him coming and hadn’t said anything.
“Trying my best,” said Liam easily, his eyes on Hershey.
“Not that this one needs your help,” Dean Atwater said. I glanced at Hershey, expecting some clever response, but she was staring openly at me. So were the other girls. I looked up at Dean Atwater. He was looking at me, too. “You’re our only Hepta this year,” he said when I met his gaze.
Hepta. It was the Greek prefix for the number seven. I’d looked it up in the student handbook when I saw it in my acceptance letter, in a box labeled “academic designation.” It meant I had a natural aptitude for all seven liberal arts subjects. I’d just assumed it was a common thing at Theden.
“Our class didn’t have one,” Liam said, not even attempting to keep the surprise out of his voice.
“Neither did the class before,” Dean Atwater added. “Which makes Rory quite exceptional.” He put his hand on my shoulder. Hershey’s eyes narrowed.
“Oh,” I said, because I didn’t know what to say. I kept my face neutral, but my insides soared. Quite exceptional. Here. At Theden. Dean Atwater gave me a
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