The boy laughed and held the cat higherthen noticed Simon standing in the doorway and stopped, his face sharpening.
Hullo, the dark-haired boy said, letting the cat drop to the floor. It landed on all four feet and ran from the room. The girl ran after it.
The boy ignored them, tugging his school jacket neatly into place and smiling with the left side of his mouth. I know you. Youre Simon Snow the Mages Heir. He held out his hand smugly. Im Tyrannus Basilton Pitch. But you can call me Bazwere going to be roommates.
Simon scowled and ignored the boys pale hand. What did you think you were doing with her cat?
from chapter 3, Simon Snow and the Mages Heir, copyright © 2001 by Gemma T. Leslie
TWO
In books, when people wake up in a strange place, they always have that disoriented moment when they dont know where they are.
That had never happened to Cath; she always remembered falling asleep.
But it still felt weird to hear her same-old alarm going off in this brand-new place. The light in the room was strange, too yellow for morning, and the dorm air had a detergenty twang she wasnt sure shed get used to. Cath picked up her phone and turned off the alarm, remembering that she still hadnt texted Abel. She hadnt even checked her e-mail or her FanFixx account before she went to bed.
first day, she texted Abel now. more later. x, o, etc.
The bed on the other side of the room was still empty.
Cath could get used to this. Maybe Reagan would spend all her time in her boyfriends room. Or at his apartment. Her boyfriend looked olderhe probably lived off campus with twenty other guys, in some ramshackle house with a couch in the front yard.
Even with the room to herself, Cath didnt feel safe changing in here. Reagan could walk in at any minute, Reagans boyfriend could walk in at any minute And either one of them could be a cell phonecamera pervert.
Cath took her clothes to the bathroom and changed in a stall. There was a girl at the sinks, desperately trying to make friendly eye contact. Cath pretended not to notice.
She finished getting ready with plenty of time to eat breakfast but didnt feel up to braving the dining hall; she still didnt know where it was, or how it worked.
In new situations, all the trickiest rules are the ones nobody bothers to explain to you. (And the ones you cant google.) Like, where does the line start? What food can you take? Where are you supposed to stand, then where are you supposed to sit? Where do you go when youre done, why is everyone watching you? Bah.
Cath broke open a box of protein bars. She had four more boxes and three giant jars of peanut butter shoved under her bed. If she paced herself, she might not have to face the dining hall until October.
She flipped open her laptop while she chewed on a carob-oat bar and clicked through to her FanFixx account. There were a bunch of new comments on her page, all people wringing their hands because Cath hadnt posted a new chapter of Carry On yesterday.
Hey, guys, she typed. Sorry about yesterday. First day of school, family stuff, etc. Today might not happen either. But I promise you Ill be back in black on Tuesday, and that I have something especially wicked planned. Peace out, Magicath.
* * *
Walking to class, Cath couldnt shake the feeling that she was pretending to be a college student in a coming-of-age movie. The setting was perfectrolling green lawns, brick buildings, kids everywhere with backpacks. Cath shifted her bag uncomfortably on her back. Look at meIm a stock photo of a college student.
She made it to American History ten minutes early, which still wasnt early enough to get a desk at the back of the class. Everybody in the room looked awkward and nervous, like theyd spent way too much time deciding what to wear.
(Start as you mean to go on, Cath had thought when she laid out her clothes last night. Jeans. Simon T-shirt. Green cardigan.)
The boy sitting in the desk next to her was wearing earbuds and self-consciously bobbing his head. The girl on Caths other side kept flipping her hair from one shoulder to the other.
Cath closed her eyes. She could feel their desks creaking. She could smell their deodorant. Just knowing they were there made her feel tight and cornered.
If Cath had slightly less pride, she could have taken this class with her sistershe and Wren both needed the history credits. Maybe she should be taking classes with Wren while they still had a few in common; they werent interested in any of the same subjects. Wren wanted to study marketingand maybe get a job in advertising like their dad.
Cath couldnt imagine having any sort of job or career. Shed majored in English, hoping that meant she could spend the next four years reading and writing. And maybe the next four years after that.
Anyway, shed already tested out of Freshman Comp, and when she met with her adviser in the spring, Cath convinced him she could handle Intro to Fiction-Writing, a junior-level course. It was the only classmaybe the only thing about collegeCath was looking forward to. The professor who taught it was an actual novelist. Cath had read all three of her books (about decline and desolation in rural America) over the summer.