[Music : What doesn't kill you by Kelly Clarkson]
CHAPTER NINE
ALICE
We find a small, iron-wrought table near the floor-to-ceiling windows of the cafeteria.
From here, Oakhaven doesn't look like a school; it looks like a curated cosmos.
The gardens are so perfectly manicured they look fake, and the stone pathways wind through the greenery like veins of silver.
It's a world of light and prestige, but sitting here with Mio, the view feels like a lie.
I'm still reeling.
My brain is a static mess of liquidity ratios, the skin-crawling memory of Professor De Luca's hand on my shoulder. And then there's Mio's secret—the tapes, the vanished girls, the shadows that have teeth.
I pick at my food, the appetite I thought I had completely gone. I look at Mio. She's staring at her tray, her small hands wrapped around a juice box like it's a life raft.
The peace doesn't last. It never does at Oakhaven.
The sound of expensive leather loafers clicking against the tile makes my spine go rigid. It's a rhythmic, arrogant sound—the gait of someone who has never been told no.
I look up to know who it is.
Marcus Hunter slides into the chair across from us without an invitation. He leans back, his oxblood blazer perfectly unbuttoned, sporting a grin that makes him look like a wolf who just found a wounded lamb.
"Thought you might enjoy some actual company," he drawls. He doesn't wait for a response; he just snaps his fingers at a passing cafeteria worker. The man scampers over, placing a gourmet plate in front of Marcus before disappearing back into the kitchen.
"Thanks, but I already have company. If you can see, which I assume you can,"
I bite back. I shove a forkful of salad into my mouth, chewing much harder than necessary. I don't want to talk to him. I don't want to be his project for the afternoon.
Marcus doesn't even blink. He looks over at Mio, his eyes cold and dismissive.
"She doesn't count as company," he says, flicking a hand toward her like he's shooing away a fly.
Beside me, I hear a soft, sharp intake of breath. I look at Mio. Her lower lip is trembling, and her knuckles are turning white. She's shrinking into herself, trying to become invisible right in front of me.
The fire in my blood, the one that's been simmering since the Porsche splashed me this morning, finally boils over.
"For me, she is," I say, my voice dropping an octave. I lean over the table, invading his space.
"So if you have a problem with who I sit with, make your ass comfortable somewhere else."
The cafeteria goes dead silent. I can hear the soft hum of the refrigerators and the distant clink of silverware. Someone at the next table actually gasps. Marcus's grin doesn't falter; if anything, it widens. He looks delighted.
"Foul-mouthed. I like it, Princess," he says. He picks up his gold-plated spoon and starts eating as if I hadn't just insulted him in front of the entire student body.
"I am not a princess," I say, my voice shaking with a mix of fury and disgust.
"And you don't get to call me that. You also don't get to hurt someone just because you're bored and your daddy owns a golf course."
I've had enough. I stand up, the legs of my chair screeching against the floor, and I grab Mio's hand. "We're leaving."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where are you going, Princess? The break isn't over yet."
Marcus is on his feet faster than I expected. He steps in front of us, blocking our path to the exit.
The entire cafeteria is watching now. It's a Roman coliseum, and we're the entertainment. I can feel the heat of hundreds stares on my back. I can feel Mio shaking next to me, her hand damp and cold in mine.
"I'm going wherever I want to be, and it's none of your business," I say. I step closer to him, ignoring the fact that he's half a foot taller than me.
"And I dare you to call me that name one more time. Do it, and you might lose the ability to produce any babies in the future. I've had a very long morning, Marcus. Don't test me."
I don't wait for his reaction. I shove past him, my shoulder hitting his chest hard. I keep my grip on Mio's hand and pull her out of the double doors, out of the cafeteria and into the quiet, shaded hallway of the west wing.
The second the doors close behind us, Mio collapses against the wall. She's actually crying now—deep, silent sobs that shake her entire frame.
"Mio, hey... stop. Why are you crying?" I ask. I feel a pang of guilt. Maybe I made it worse. "He's just another asshole. Don't let him get to you."
I reach out, using the back of my scratchy hoodie sleeve to wipe the tears from her cheeks.
"It's not just about today, Alice," she says through a hiccup. Her voice is broken, stripped of that 'cute' lilt she had earlier.
"They always do this. They pinpoint everything. My eyes, my height, the way I look... they treat me like a clown. Like I'm just a side-chic they can laugh at because I don't look like them."
My heart shatters for her. I know what it's like to be judged for what you wear or where you come from, but to be judged for the very skin you're in? It's a different kind of cruelty. It's the kind that doesn't just leave a bruise; it leaves a scar.
I look at her—really look at her. She's brilliant, she's observant, and she's the only person who has shown me a shred of kindness in this godforsaken place.
"Oh, Mio, shut up," I say softly. I pull her into a hug, wrapping my arms around her small shoulders. "You're none of those things. You are the brightest, most beautiful girl I've ever seen in this university. Everyone else in there is just a carbon copy of the same boring person. You're real. Trust me, that's worth more than any of their Oxblood blazers."
She leans into me, her forehead resting against my shoulder.
"We're going to get through this," I whisper into her hair. "I'm not letting them touch you again. If they want to get to you, they have to go through the 'Alice' first."
Mio lets out a small, wet laugh against my hoodie, and I feel her grip on my waist tighten. She's my only ally. And at Oakhaven, that's the most dangerous thing you can be.