The Truth About Kian

02. Seas would rise when I gave the word

"Make sure you do a good job, Reed," said Meg, smiling. "People like you don't get second chances."

***

"I am utterly and totally screwed," I told Jules at lunch. We were sitting at the table where the scholarship kids liked to take refuge, but unfortunately, it didn't have a force field to deflect the food that kept getting tossed our way. I winced as something sticky hit the back of my hair, liquid trickling under my collar.

Jules's eyes locked on someone behind me, his mouth pinching in barely contained fury. "One minute," he said, sliding off the bench.

"Jules, don't," I protested as he scooped up the half-peeled orange from the floor and stalked over to the table by the long windows.

Several Inheritors, including Maurice and Meg, sat at the table. I noticed that Liam, Kian's best friend, sat there as well.

"You know, it's funny," said Jules, speaking over the buzz of conversation and glaring at Maurice. "Your dear old dad must spend thousands on etiquette lessons every year, but you still can't grasp the basic concept of not throwing your food like a chimpanzee."

"But I didn't ...." stammered Maurice, flustered.

Jules tossed the orange in Maurice's lap and turned his back to the hooting behind him. An empty juice container flew by his shoulder as he returned to his seat across from me

"You're going to pay for that," I whispered. "But thank you."

He gave me a lighthearted smile. "You know I'd take a wedgie for you, Reed."

"Oh, I know," I replied seriously. "And I'd do the same for you, but we've got to stop fighting fire with fire."

He took a bite of his curry. "At least our burns are battle scars. In a few years, we're going to be writing pathetic little pay cheques for them with two-hundred-dollar pens."

"Can't wait," I mumbled. "Assuming that I can get out of Scire and find a job that doesn't involve cleaning toilets."

"Reed Elliot?" I jumped at the voice behind me, and Jules paled when he saw who slid into the empty chair.

Liam Sinclair.

He was practically a Smurf. As one of the bluest-blooded Inheritors in Scire, it was hard not to feel slightly terrified when he was only a few feet away. I'd heard that he was a decent guy, but it was an instinctive response to flee when confronted by someone who owned a mansion and a Lamborghini.

I realized that Liam was waiting for an answer, and I chanced a glance at him. He was leaning towards me, his brilliant blue eyes were slightly bloodshot with faint bags beneath them and his dark brown hair was even messier than mine, but he still managed to maintain that untouchable aura that all Inheritors seemed to possess.

Jules kicked my leg, and I jumped, dropping my cookie on the table. "Oh, um, yes that's me."

"You're doing the feature article about Kian?"

"Well, actually it's about teen suicide and—"

"But you're using Kian as a focus," interrupted Liam.

"Yes," I said, taking a drink of water. "We use people to make the articles more relatable—"

"So you're going to turn Kian's death into a story?"

"Stop interrupting me!" I snapped without thinking. Jules grinned at me before hastily ducking his head when he realized that our unwanted tablemate was watching too.

The corner of Liam's mouth curved up into a faint smile. "Meg said you were—"

"I don't give a damn what Meg thinks about me. Knowing her it probably rhymes with 'witch,'" I said irritably.