Free Starling by Lesley Livingston Page A

shoulder.
    “Hello, Heather.” Roth’s mouth ticked upward in a half smile. He was pretty used to that kind of thing from girls, and Mason had never once seen him fall for it. “Are you okay after last night? Do you need anything?”
    Heather looked on the verge of making a flirty comment but then seemed to rethink the idea, realizing that it wouldn’t do her any good. Or maybe, Mason thought, she really was just too shaken up by things to actually make the effort. Whatever the case, Heather slumped forward a bit and shrugged a shoulder, saying, “A new gym would be nice.”
    “Pretty incredible.” Roth shook his head. “You know, there were blackouts over half of Manhattan last night. But I didn’t see anywhere on the news that took as big a hit as this place....” He glanced back at the gym and the grotesque tangle of oak tree roots that stuck up into the air like so many grasping fingers. “That’s a lot of damage.”
    “Yeah.” Heather traced her thumb over a bit of graffiti carved into the wood of the bench: H+C , surrounded by a heart. “Well, the tree falling did most of it,” she said absently.
    “Most of it?” Roth asked sharply.
    Mason and Heather exchanged a look.
    “Uh …” Heather shifted on the bench. “I mean, all of it. I mean … what else could it have been, right?” She laughed, and it was an awkward, shrill sound.
    Roth blinked at her and then glanced back at Mason, who shrugged and tried to look nonchalant.
    “Why don’t you walk with us back to the dorm?” Roth asked Heather. “You look like you could use some sleep. You both seem a little on edge.”
    “A tree almost killed us, Roth. You probably would be, too.” Mason smiled wanly at him. “Or not. Knowing you. C’mon, Heather. Roth’s right. It’s only quarter after eight, and I’ve already had more than enough excitement for one day.”
    They dropped Heather off in front of her door on the second floor, and then Roth escorted Mason down the long hall toward her own quarters. He put an arm around her shoulders, and Mason leaned wearily against her big brother as they walked.
    “So,” Roth said quietly as they left Heather behind in her room. “You and Heather Palmerston. Pals?”
    “Hardly.” Mason snorted at the very thought. “It’s more like … temporary bonding through shared adversity. I predict that by Monday morning, she’ll be back to wanting to duct tape me upside down to my locker.”
    Roth chuckled. “Just as well. Her whole family is whacked, y’know.”
    “Really?” Mason stopped in front of her door and fished around in her bag for her key. “And here I thought Heather was just a natural-born bitch.”
    Roth answered his sister with a grin. He leaned against the door frame. “I hear the Aristarchos kid got hurt,” he said.
    “Yeah.” Mason dug harder through the depth of her bag and avoided making eye contact with her brother.
    “I also heard he’s gonna be okay. Basically.”
    “I really hope so.”
    Mason could feel Roth’s keen gaze on her, and she struggled to keep from blushing. The last thing she wanted Roth to know was who she was crushing on. She also didn’t need him to suspect that Calum hadn’t, in fact, been injured by the tree falling through the gym window. She hated the fact that she had agreed with the others to keep the details of their terrifying ordeal secret. But she had, and she would. And even if she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have even known where to begin to tell Roth the truth of the matter. Thankfully, her fingers brushed her key ring in the corner of her bag, and she opened her door and gestured Roth inside.
    The room was cold and smelled of rain. Mason glanced over at the open window and saw that the sill, along with a circle of carpet directly beneath it, was soaking wet from the storm. She ignored it. Mason never closed her window, and a little dampness was a small price to pay for her mental and emotional stability.
    She’d suffered from