I keep pace with Layla’s fast steps. The coldness that crept into her demeanor yesterday after I sat with Aarya at lunch is still there.

I open my mouth to respond as we step into the garden lounge, and we almost smack into two guys having a quiet discussion. One is the confident archer with the platinum hair who winked at me yesterday. His friend is similarly tall and handsome and has a tattoo of ivy peeking out from the rolled cuff of his shirt. He doesn’t have the same commanding presence his friend does, though. Just by seeing them talk together, you can tell there is an imbalance of power between them.

“So it’s the new girl,” the confident archer says, shifting his attention and flashing me a grin. His accent is British.

His tattooed friend crosses his arms. “You’re not going to introduce us, Layla? Where are your manners?” He sounds French and has a lilting voice. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was a singer in a band.

“Brendan”—Layla gestures toward the archer, and then toward the guy with the French accent—“and Charles. This is November.” Layla’s tone is flat, like she could be reading off a grocery list, just trying to accomplish the task at hand. Great. I’m a grocery list.

“A pleasure, I’m sure,” Brendan says, and bows, but there’s something duplicitous about his friendliness. He’s nothing like Ash, who always seems to be assessing; Brendan’s positive attitude feels like a lure. “Have you enjoyed your first two days at Phantom High?”

“Phantom High?” I say with a smirk. “Clever. Well, all I can say is the food’s excellent…when it’s not poisoned.”

Charles laughs, but it’s not an easy laugh and I can’t help but feel like I’m participating in some elaborate dance I don’t know the steps to. I look to Layla for clues as to who these guys are, but her expression remains neutral. I can tell by the tension in her stance, though, that she wants to get the hell away from them. And if she isn’t doing it, I can only assume she doesn’t feel comfortable dismissing them.

“Oh, great, the royals and the nerds talking to each other,” Aarya says in an American accent, walking up with Ines. “What is the world coming to?”

“It’s a world where you’re irrelevant, Aarya,” Brendan replies, and once again I sense something cruel behind his upbeat tone.

“Oh, boo-hoo,” Aarya says as she walks away. Ines touches her arm, which seems to be a signal for Aarya to stop.

I take a better look at Brendan and Charles. There is clearly some dynamic here that I’m not understanding. Layla’s tense around these guys and Ines doesn’t seem to want Aarya to get into a conflict with them.

But of course Aarya turns back toward us just before they enter the building. “I don’t matter to you, Brendan? However will I go on?”

“Maybe you won’t,” Charles answers, and unlike Brendan, the threat in his tone is direct.