"When I get elected president, I'm making your face illegal." Henry tells Ronan, glaring.
Ronan's smile is so inherently him that Mercy almost shivers, thin and wired hotly with darkness. "Litigation's a farce."
They pull away from Henry, leaving him and his petition to pester the rest of the student population. Trailing down the colonnade, it's shrouded in shadows that make the hairs on the back of Mercy's neck stand on end. She kicks a stone towards Ronan. He kicks it back with equal force, the beginnings of a small game between them.
"Do you ever consider the possibility that you might be growing up to be an asshole?" Gansey asks Ronan within the darkness.
Ronan kicks their stone and it skitters across the bricks, hitting a corner hard enough that it takes off towards the courtyard and Mercy pouts.
"Rumour has it that his father gave him a Fisker for his birthday and he's too afraid to drive it." Ronan says. "I want to see it if he has it. Rumour has it he biked here."
"From Vancouver?" Adam asks.
"Seems like a waste." Mercy comments.
Gansey frowns, eyes following two younger students across the courtyard. He purses his lips, knocking on the headmaster's door. He turns back around to face his friends.
"Are you waiting out here for me?" Gansey asks.
"No," Ronan says. "Parrish and I are going for a drive."
"We are?" Adam asks, confused.
"You are." Mercy replies.
"Good." Gansey says, ignoring Mercy's words. "I'll see you later."
As Gansey lets himself into the headmaster's office and shuts the door behind him, Ronan lingers a moment. Mercy collapses into a chair outside the office, leg hanging over the armrests. She looks like a lazing lion as she waits, strikingly poised but carefree. She flashes him a smile and he raises a brow. Adam, unsure of what to do with himself, stands behind Ronan like a ghostly presence.
"Go," Mercy says. "I'll watch our crown."
Ronan nods, him and Adam disappearing from her sight.
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
A sinking feeling lingers in the pit of Mercy's stomach as Gansey pushes through the open door of the headmaster's office and looks at her lazing in one of the waiting chairs with a slight frown. Still, she grins, wriggling her fingers in the air as a greeting. There's a beat where Gansey says nothing. He just stands, watching her quietly. Mercy's back straightens at Gansey's furrowed expression, eyeing the worry tensing the boy's shoulders.
