December 3, 2012
Stephanie blinked, staring at Aurelia over her lasagna. “Lunch is. . . good,” she said, trying to remember all of the questions. Except the school one. That one she was trying to forget. “I can tell that it’s prepared by professionals. And I’ve met the principal. He. . . .” Hates me, she finished in her mind. Wants to believe the evidence, can’t because it’s untrue. Wants to expel me, can’t because of the laws.
“He’s interesting,” she said, and bit her lip, partially because she was trying to keep the other words in and partially because she was confused.
Why was Aurelia asking all of these questions? Was it just because she was her guide? Well, if it was, it was totally unnecessary.
Except for the fact that she’d take a pity vote right now.