My jaw tenses. “It’s all head games with you guys. Deception. Why would anyone even want to hurt me? I’ve been here for one day. This school sucks. I can’t wait until my two weeks are over.”

His composure breaks ever so slightly, like I’ve startled him. “Two weeks?”

“Yeah, until the holidays.”

“Holidays,” he repeats with a look that again tells me I’ve said something revealing.

Do I even want to ask? “You know, Aarya looked at me the same way when I said that.”

Ash lets out an “oh boy” whistle. “We don’t go home for the holidays. Aarya now knows you don’t have a clue how this school works or know anything about the culture here.”

“Hang on. We, as in you and Layla, or we as in everyone?”

“Everyone,” he says, and it’s like someone stole all the air from the room. “Holidays—any of them, really, with the possible exception of New Year’s—aren’t celebrated. And New Year’s falls on a variety of days for people at this school, so here we celebrate nothing.”

This can’t be right. My dad distinctly said a few weeks. I’ll miss the lighting of the tree in the town square, the Pembrook carolers, the terrible play our local theater puts on every year, and Lucille’s menorah lighting followed by her homemade spiced cider and fresh donuts. I rub my forehead and press my lips together. A lump forms in my throat. I got in when no one else could, so maybe I can get back out. Ash notices my upset, but for once, he doesn’t rub it in my face.

He looks at me like I’m a Rubik’s Cube. “I’ve never met anyone who didn’t want to be here, who didn’t consider it an honor.”

I snort. “I find that really hard to believe. There’s no laughter here. No easy attitudes. No fun.”

“Oh, there’s fun, all right. I’m just not sure you would think so. Or that you could keep up.”

I study him for a second. “Try me.”

He takes his time. “Let’s see here. On Friday and Saturday nights curfew is extended to midnight. And from twelve to twelve-ten the guards change, reducing the active stations to about one-third. If you think you can handle it, meet me outside in the vines tomorrow night.”

I study his face. Sneaking out to go climb some trees? He’s got my number. Layla must have told him how I reacted to that courtyard.

“Or don’t,” he says with a smile.

I try to mask how much the idea appeals to me. “Why on earth should I trust you?”

“You shouldn’t.”

I grunt.

“But my guess is that if you weren’t prepped to come here, then you have some questions.”

I look at him sideways. Damn he’s good. “Are you saying you’ll answer those questions?”

The door creaks and Layla walks through, her graceful steps not making a sound.

I barely blink and Ash’s demeanor has shifted. He’s farther away from me and leaning lazily up against the window like we didn’t just have that conversation.