Chapter Twelve

It Feels Good to be Bad

The wind was fierce that morning. The normally smooth surface of the Black Lake rippled with every gust, disturbing the quicksilver water, and the leaves of the beech tree above where we were sitting hissed as the breeze rattled through them. It was chilly too, but I didn't mind the cold, enjoying the way the tips of my ears and my cheeks burned. Emmeline didn't feel the same way.

"Merlin, it's cold out here," she said, struggling in vain to keep her dark hair out of her face. "I dunno how you stand it, Pipes."

"Can't be cold when your heart's already ice, Em," I joked, leaning back against the trunk of the tree, and she rolled her eyes at me.

"I doubt that," she said, and I raised my brows as she fiddled with her scarf, pulling it up to her chin.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked. Not rudely; I was just genuinely curious.

She shrugged. "It's nothing, really. It's just…you've been awfully happier this last fortnight."

I laughed, her statement unexpected. "What, am I forbidden to be happy?"

"No!" she said, her olive face reddening more than it had been from the cold. "Godric, Piper, no, I didn't mean it like that. I meant that it's just great to see you this way again. It's like the old you is back."

I didn't immediately respond, mulling over her words thoughtfully. I guess Emmeline was right, in a way. Perhaps I wasn't happier, but my life had seemed more…stable for the last couple of weeks. As if I had been in freefall and the world was just now righting itself under my feet. The burden I had been carrying for so long had seemed to lessen some, and it was like I could finally breathe again.

It also helped that my war with the Marauders was officially over. The last big hurdle had been to deal with Potter before the ceasefire could truly take effect, and it had gone a lot better than expected.

The day following Black's apology, I had been departing Professor McGonagall's class when Potter cornered me, ignoring the looks all the students were sending us as he practically thrust me against the wall.

"Sheesh, Potter, if you want me so bad you could've just taken me to a broom cupboard," I said before I could help myself, but instead of reacting with a hex, as he would have before, he just grinned.

"Piper, dear, as lovely as you are, you know my heart beats only for Evans," he said.

"First name basis again, eh?" I replied, and his grin widened.

"Well, since Sirius reported back to us yesterday about your heartwarming conversation, I thought I'd take up the olive branch, as well," he said. He rummaged through his robe pockets for a minute, pulling out all kinds of miscellaneous items before producing a piece of folded-up parchment and handing it to me.

"What is this?" I asked, taking the parchment warily and opening it to reveal four names already scrawled in black ink: James Fleamont Potter, Sirius Orion Black, Remus John Lupin, Peter Eustace Pettigrew.

"Who gives their child a middle name like Eustace?" I said incredulously, and Potter laughed. "But seriously, what is this?"

"Our treaty," he said proudly, puffing out his chest a bit. "When you sign it, the ceasefire will instantly go into effect."

"There's nothing written on it," I pointed out. "You just signed a blank piece of paper."

He frowned. "Do I look like someone who would write up an entire treaty?"

"Yes, actually."

His frown deepened, and he mumbled something under his breath. "Sorry, didn't catch that. What?"

"I said I may or may not have one written in my room right now," he said.

I attempted to keep a straight face, only nodding and looking back at the names. "So, what exactly does this treaty say?"

He shrugged, pushing his glasses further up his nose. "Typical treaty rubbish: no fighting, no insulting, no hexing or jinxing or cursing except in good nature to all of the above, so on and so forth…"

"Sounds good to me," I said, shrugging casually, but on the inside, all I felt was intense relief. "Got a quill?"

He dug through his pockets again, handing me a quill that still had some ink on the tip, to my confusion, but I didn't question it. At the bottom of the parchment, I signed my name in big loopy letters: Piper Elain Everlark.

"Your initials spell 'pee,' y'know that, right?" he asked as I returned the parchment and quill, and I gave him a deadpan look that he beamed at.

"Don't push your luck, James," I said, and he shot me a wink as he began striding down the corridor.

"Welcome back, Pipes," was all he said before he was gone.

That had been two weeks ago, and since then, things had been nice. Weird, but nice. The whole school had seemed to notice the change too, which was awkward in the extreme. The lack of drama between the Marauders and my friends and me was surely a shock, and most everyone treated me like I had Imperiused the boys or something into not hating me. Most of the seventh-year Gryffindors were being nice though, probably more out of respect for the Marauders than for me, but I didn't mind. Even the staff had begun to relax around me a bit – I swear I saw Professor McGonagall wipe a tear from her eye at dinner the other night when she saw me sitting next to Remus and laughing.

"I dunno about the 'old me,'" I told Emmeline honestly, yanking at the brittle grass near my feet. "I don't think I could ever be her again. But a new me?" I shrugged, pulling up some of the grass and letting the wind take it from my hand, watching it float away. "I think I could agree with that."

Emmeline smiled, resting her head on my shoulder, and I threw one arm around her in a hug, glad for her comfort and friendship more than ever. She had always been the nicer one out of all of us, and her heart was in the right place even when ours never were sometimes, and I realized then that I would be grateful to her forever. Even if we never saw each other again after graduating next year, I knew I would always love her. That's just the kind of impact Emmeline had.

"C'mon, you batty witch," she said a few moments later. "Let's get inside before my bum freezes to the ground."

I laughed, following her into the castle and entering the Great Hall a few moments later. We were early to lunch that day, but we took our new seats in the middle of the Gryffindor table where the Marauders, the seventh-year girls, Dorcas, Becca, and our boys (who were baffled but pleasantly so) sat at meals every day.

It didn't take long for other students to start trickling in from their lessons and breaks, but I still drummed my fingers on the table, staring intently at the spot where the food would appear as Emmeline penned a letter to her parents, who were visiting her grandparents in the Philippines, as she had informed me earlier. I was so focused on my hunger that I didn't even notice someone was standing over my shoulder until a hauntingly familiar voice said, "Piper?"

Oh, my God. Please tell me this wasn't happening. This couldn't be real. Why was he here, speaking to me? I'd avoided him like the plague ever since we'd come back from holiday. Could he not take a hint and, like, disappear forever?

My palms were instantly clammy, and my mouth turned dry as I kept my eyes on the table, refusing to look behind me. I couldn't do it. It was too soon. Oh, God, why…

"Aubrey," Emmeline said sharply from beside me, turning his attention from me to her, allowing air to refill my lungs once more. "You shouldn't be here."

He chuckled, and the sound of that throaty laugh made me want to run from the Hall and vomit.

"The Ravenclaw-Gryffindor match isn't for another month, Vance," he drawled. "Or are you starting your House rivalry sooner than that?"

"You're not welcome here," she said coldly, and if I hadn't felt so sick I would've been shocked; I'd never heard Emmeline speak like that to anyone.

"And does that have anything to do with why Potter and Black cornered me today?" he asked sarcastically, and my head snapped up at this.

Keeping my eyes trained forward, I said, "What did they do that for?" God, even just speaking in his general direction was making my knees shake.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," he said, his voice tinged with the faintest edge of exasperation. "They demanded I stay away from their friends or else they'd jinx me into oblivion, but considering the only one of their 'friends' I have engaged with is you…well, it wasn't too hard to put together. After all, I am a Ravenclaw."

Pompous, smug arse. If I wasn't afraid of throwing up I'd turn around and punch him right there. But I couldn't face him. My eyes burned as I realized this, and I clenched my fists so hard I could feel my nails breaking through the skin. I couldn't even face him.

"Maybe you should take their advice," I said flatly, "and leave me the hell alone."

"I just want to be sure we're on the same page, Piper," he said curtly. "Perhaps you said something to your newfound friends that wasn't entirely truthful, and I think that the air needs to be cleared a bit—"

"What's going on here?"

My sudden grip on my wand didn't relax, even when the Marauders appeared out of nowhere, closely followed by the seventh-year girls. James's voice cracked out like a whip, and I sensed him take an automatic step back. Good.

"Just having a chat, Potter," he said coolly. "Last I checked, there's no harm in that, is there?"

"Last I checked, we told you to stay away from our friends," Sirius said, and I could hear the infamous Black sneer in his voice. "So if you'd like to keep looking like a smarmy git and not sprout tentacles or anything, I suggest you go back to your table."

There was a tense moment where he sputtered before retreating rapidly, his footfalls disappearing in the noise of the Hall, but still, I didn't let go of my wand.

That bastard. That unimaginable, absolute son of a bitch. He wasn't sorry for what he did to me. He didn't care. All he cared about was his image, not mine. After all, I was the slag, wasn't I? Hell, he probably thought I wanted it. He didn't see the faults or the cracks, the grey area that he had crossed into and dragged me kicking and screaming with him. I wanted to feel sorry for him; maybe he hadn't known what he'd done, but that didn't make it fine. I didn't have to accept that.

"No one can break you," Evans's voice reminded me. "You are untouchable."

"Hey, Aubrey!"

The Ravenclaw turned at the sound of my voice carrying over the babbling students, and I forced myself to my feet as his eyes fastened on me curiously. Before he could even open his mouth, however, I had already pointed my wand at his forehead. "Engorgio Skullus!"

There was a horrible moment of silence as everyone turned to stare, and Aubrey blinked at me, confusion written all over his face.

Shit. It hadn't worked. The spell—

Aubrey suddenly gave a shout of surprise, and in the next second, his head had begun to swell like a balloon, faster and faster until thirty seconds had passed and it was now the size of a watermelon. People gasped, rooted to the spot as they watched his head enlarge at a rapid pace, but I thought it was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen.

I choked on my laughter, and soon all the students in the vicinity were roaring as Aubrey's head kept inflating, his panicked cries drowned out by the noise. He looked at me with eyeballs the size of tennis balls, shouting something about the countercurse, but I simply shrugged; I'd conveniently forgotten to look up the reverse spell, so there was really nothing I could do. And honestly? It felt good to be bad again.

Of course, not everyone found it funny.

"WHIMBLESBY!"

Ah, bugger. I forgot about Filch.

The surrounding students immediately dispersed as the caretaker hobbled over, his deranged cat right on his heels. He glared at me with his squinty eyes, taking in the scene of me standing before Aubrey, whose head was now so large it resembled a pumpkin.

"Yes, Mr. Filch?" I asked innocently, and he scowled at me.

"What is the meaning of this?" he hissed, gesturing to Aubrey. "Using an illegal hex on a fellow student?"

I shrugged casually, and his face turned puce, but before he could lose his mind, James stepped in with an easy grin on his face.

"Relax, Filch, she wasn't the one who cast the spell," he said, twirling his wand between his fingers and winking at me when I stared. "It was me."

"And me," Sirius added, stepping to James's side and shooting me a wink. "The git deserved it if you ask me."

Filch's face purpled, and his chest seemed to swell at Sirius's comment. "I did not ask—"

"Argus, whatever is the matter here?" Professor McGonagall said, striding up to our group and her mouth falling open when she saw Aubrey, who was now groaning and struggling to keep his head from drooping to the side. Her eyes tracked over me, then Sirius and James, before she let out a long sigh. "I see."

"These two are claiming they're the ones who did it, but I saw Whimblesby cast the spell," Filch growled, and McGonagall looked around wildly for a moment.

"Whimblesby?" she said. "Who's Whimblesby?" She looked at me, and her brows furrowed in bewilderment. "Do you mean Miss Everlark?"

Filch grunted. "Who?"

McGonagall blinked as if absorbing the stupidity of the situation before turning to James and Sirius. "Did you two or Miss Everlark cast the spell? And I want an honest answer, boys."

"Oh, it was us, Professor," James said.

"Definitely us," Sirius agreed, grinning at the stern witch, who merely looked perplexed and resigned all at once.

"Very well," she sighed after a long moment. "Argus, write them up and I will assign them detention later. Now everyone, go back to your seats and eat, and try not to jinx one another." She cast a look toward Aubrey, who was now whimpering under the weight of his head, and gestured to one of his Ravenclaw friends. "Mr. Jones, please escort Mr. Aubrey to the hospital wing."

I didn't watch the two Ravenclaws leave, my satisfaction already sated for the day, but instead turned to James and Sirius, who both looked as if Christmas had come early.

"Why did you do that?" I asked. "Now you're going to have detention!"

"It was worth it," James said, a broad smile still on his face. "Being Head Boy is terrible; all the responsibility and no pranks! Besides, I miss detention with Minnie. She loves us."

"Spare the protests, Pipes," Sirius said to the look on my face. "Think of it as our repayment to you for being such prats over the years."

I raised my brows. "You better be prepared for a lot more detentions, then."

They shared a smirk, and I glanced over to the table where all our friends were sitting, talking amongst themselves and occasionally throwing furtive glances over their shoulders at us. I caught Remus's eye, but before he could acknowledge me, I had already looked away, my stomach flipping uncomfortably.

"What about Remus?" I said suddenly, and they seemed taken aback at my question. I lowered my voice, leaning in. "Obviously, you two know what happened with Aubrey, but does he?"

The two boys exchanged a glance I couldn't decipher.

"No, we haven't told him," Sirius said. "And we don't think he knows – well, the extent of it, at least."

My shoulders sagged in relief as James added on to what Sirius had said. "He would've gone ballistic if we'd told him. Probably would've done a lot worse than you did to Aubrey. We figured it'd be best if you told him yourself if ever you want to. That's not our place."

I nodded, chewing the inside of my cheek. I was grateful to them for not sharing anything with Remus, but now that left the decision of whether I wanted to tell him or not. James and Sirius and most everyone else had suspected what had happened between Aubrey and me, so I'd never really said anything explicitly, only to Evans. But could I bear to tell him too? Would I even be able to?

"Thanks," I said, deciding that that was one thing I'd deal with later rather than sooner. "I'll…think about it."

They nodded, and I followed them back to the Gryffindor table, taking my customary seat between Becca and Remus, the latter watching me shrewdly as I began to pile food onto my plate.

"Piper, I'm amazed," Becca said, planting a swift kiss on my cheek. "I didn't know you could cast spells like that!"

"She used to be a geek, remember?" Dorcas said from across us, quirking a brow, and I grinned at her. Things had gone somewhat back to normal between us, but I knew we would have to talk eventually once the dust settled a little more. She was my closest friend, and this awkwardness-but-not-awkwardness between us was frustrating. "There's no telling what kinds of things she has up her sleeves." She suddenly eyed me sternly. "And don't make that an innuendo."

I pressed a hand over my heart, my anxiety over confronting Aubrey subsiding now that I was in the midst of my friends again, even though I knew that wouldn't be the end of things.

"I never!" I said in a breathy, girlish voice. "A saintly woman like me—"

"Gross, someone stop her before she launches into some monologue," Dorcas said, rolling her eyes before fixing her golden gaze on Remus. "I blame you for encouraging her dramatic behavior, by the way. She's been insufferable ever since she joined that barmy club of yours."

Remus shot her a lopsided grin, the curve of his mouth tugging on his sharp cheekbone and making his right eye crinkle in the corner, and suddenly I found myself watching him intently as he replied to Dorcas jokingly, "In my defense, it was McGonagall who set her loose upon this castle, not me."

He looked at me, and I jolted when I realized that I'd been staring at the side of his face for way longer than what was considered normal. Shit. Had he noticed?

"I'm teasing, Pipes," he said in response to the grimace on my face, mistaking it for displeasure at his joke rather than the mortification aimed at myself. He bumped his knee against mine under the table, and I nodded jerkily, taking a hasty gulp of pumpkin juice so I wouldn't have to answer back. He looked bemused for a second before turning back to James and asking him something I didn't bother listening to.

I'd been catching myself doing that a lot lately – staring at Remus Lupin, I mean. It was just so strange being in such close proximity to him again without us hurling barbed words or cruel jabs at each other, and considering the last time I had ever paid such close attention to him had been more than five years ago, it was like I was seeing an entirely different person.

Second-year Remus had been more reserved, more softer-spoken. He had lacked conviction (ahem, see the aforementioned tale of The Day). He was smart, obviously, and sweet, and there had been a quiet sort of comfort to him that had drawn me close to him my first year at Hogwarts. He'd been easy-to-read – predictable, almost.

Seventh-year Remus had me floored. The last two weeks with him had been enough to prove that. Though not nearly as cocky or arrogant as James and Sirius, he had definitely gained a lot more confidence, but he still managed to retain his sense of reasoning and modesty. He'd become someone else – and though that wasn't a bad thing, it certainly made everything more interesting. But ever since we'd become friends – acquaintances – again, and started rehearsing my lines together in the evenings, I'd realized something terrible.

Remus John Lupin, my former-best-friend/crush-turned-friend-acquaintance, dammit-again, werewolf extraordinaire, and Marauder – was fucking hot.

My mortification upon unearthing this discovery had been a right shock to my system, let me tell you. I was surprised I hadn't keeled over from a heart attack on the spot.

We'd been walking back from our private rehearsal one evening, making small talk on our way to Gryffindor Tower, and I'd looked up to him to make some snarky reply when it hit me. There had been a patch of slanted sunlight coming in through one of the windows in the corridor, and the way the light had touched his face had made my breath stutter in my chest. Like holy shit, did puberty do him well.

His sandy hair, streaked with a few strands of auburn and gold, practically glowed in the light, and his eyes became chips of pale green ice, bright and piercing. The few small scars that littered his face stood out in contrast to his tanned skin, but they only seemed to enhance his appearance, highlighting his sharp jaw and pointed cheekbones. Perhaps he still looked a little too rundown and shabby for someone so young, but it seemed to suit him – and me as well, apparently.

So, that's what I've been dealing with for the better half of a month. Coming to terms with my acquaintance's attractiveness, that's all. But for the record, I did not fancy Remus Lupin. Nope. No way. Been there, done that, never going back. But still, it never hurt anybody to admire from afar.

Or so I hoped.

"If I have to read one more line I'm jumping off the Astronomy Tower."

Remus gave me a wry look from where he was sitting on the edge of a desk in the empty classroom we used for our private rehearsals, quirking his mouth at me as I draped myself across several chairs, my script resting on my chest.

"We've only been working for thirty minutes," he pointed out. "And as a prefect, I cannot allow you to jump off the Astronomy Tower." He suddenly grinned wickedly. "However, as a Marauder, I would encourage you to do a backflip if you do."

He chuckled when I flipped him off.

"You're a comedic genius," I said, rolling my eyes and brandishing my script. "Fine, O Great One – let's keep going before I start practicing backflips."

He grinned. "We can take it from the part where Titania wakes up and sees Nick Bottom for the first time after Oberon and Robin put the spell on her."

"Gross," I said, flipping to the page and wrinkling my nose. "I can't believe Pettigrew is playing Bottom. I have to act like I'm in love with him! Flitwick is cruel, just cruel."

"True," Remus conceded, "but he also gets to walk around with an ass for a head, so…"

I snorted at the image that provided, even if in this case 'ass' meant a donkey.

"Whatever," I said, getting to my feet and facing him. "Scene, I guess." I cleared my throat before beginning to read:

"'I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again. Mine ear is much enamored of thy note. So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape. And thy fair virtue's force perforce doth move me/On the first view to say, to swear, I love thee.'"

Ugh, this was so gross. It was one thing saying this stuff to Remus, (see: extremely awkward) but the thought of having to say it to Pettigrew in front of the entire school was making my lunch come back up. Shuddering at the thought of confessing my love (albeit fake love) to Pettigrew in a few weeks' time, I tried to focus back in on Remus as he read Bottom's lines to me.

"'Methinks, mistress, you should have little reason for that. And yet, to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together nowadays. The more the pity that some honest neighbors will not make them friends. Nay, I can gleek upon occasion.'"

I snorted. "What the hell does that mean?"

"He's just kidding," he said, looking up from his script and grinning slightly. "Aren't you going to say your next line? You'll have to practice well since you're saying it to Peter."

"Stop reminding me," I groaned. "It's even weirder now since he won't talk to me, like, ever."

Remus paused, glancing at me quizzically. "What do you mean?"

I gave him an incredulous look. "You haven't noticed that he practically flees from the room anytime I approach you guys? Or refuses to speak to me, or even look in my direction?"

Remus frowned. "No, I haven't, honestly. Are you sure you're not just catching him at the wrong time?"

"Considering everyone in this school has hated me for years, it's pretty easy for me to tell when someone dislikes me," I said sarcastically, and he grimaced.

"I don't think Pete dislikes you," he said, scratching at the faint stubble on his cheek that I tried not to stare at. "He's probably just trying to warm up to you again. After all, the poor sap practically worshipped you when he was twelve."

"That was a while ago," I reminded him, but I sighed when I realized that I was about to push this into an argument. New leaf, Everlark. Stop being so stubborn. "Ah, never mind. You're probably right. Let's keep practicing; we have about an hour until dinner, and I still need to do homework."

He merely shrugged, gesturing for me to say the next line, and I inwardly cringed, trying not to blush as I said, "'Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful.'"

"Oh, c'mon, Piper, you need more conviction than that!" he said, and I knew from his expression that he was enjoying tormenting me. "Try it again. Look love-struck, not disgusted."

I glared at him before repeating the line, attempting to sound airier, but he shook his head before I was even finished.

"You're not feeling your character enough," he said. "Titania is under the effects of a love spell – she has no idea what's going on; all she knows is that she's supposedly in love with Bottom. Whatever Titania is feeling isn't real, just like whatever you're saying to Peter isn't real – it's not how you truly feel."

Damn him, he made sense. No wonder why Flitwick made him the head of the MAC. The guy knew what he was doing.

"Try it one more time, and then we can move on," he said. "But get into it; move around, do things that Titania might do in her love-drunk haze. Worry about Peter later; just focus on me right now."

Yeah, because acting like a lovey-dovey fool to Remus Lupin was exactly what I wanted to do. Especially right after he mussed up his hair like that and loosened his tie a bit. Ugh, I hated hormones. Why did they have to do this to me right now?

Squashing down whatever teen angst I was experiencing, I took a deep breath, beginning to prowl toward him as I imagined a lust-driven fairy would, attempting to appear regal and graceful like a queen as I repeated, "'Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful.'"

"'Not so, either,'" he said to me, his face flitting between curiosity and nervousness, though his eyes never left mine as I came closer. "'But if I had wit enough to get out of this wood, I have enough to serve mine own turn.'"

I approached until I was near enough to reach out a hand and touch him, but he still didn't back down. Doing my best to not feel like an idiot, I gave him the sultriest look I could manage without bursting into laughter, and I swore he blushed. Oh, yeah. I still got it.

"'Out of this wood do not desire to go. Thou shalt remain here whether thou wilt or no. I am a spirit of no common rate.'" One step closer. "'The summer still doth tend upon my state. And I do love thee. Therefore go with me.'" I reached out and grasped his elbow, pulling him to me, and I ignored the way my stomach swooped at the contact or the way his eyes bored into me. "'I'll give thee fairies to attend on thee. And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep/And sing while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep. And I will purge thy mortal grossness so/That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.'"

I stopped there since that was the part where the fairies came in, and looked up to him with a cheeky grin. "So, how was that?"

He seemed to take a few seconds to come back to himself, blinking slowly as if in a daze before clearing his throat.

"Good," he said, and his voice came out oddly scratchy. "That was, er, really good."

"Excellent." I beamed, skipping over to my bag and thrusting my script inside. "Wanna hit the common room before dinner? I need to drop off my stuff in my dorm."

"Er…yeah," he said, nodding sluggishly. "Yeah, let's go."

We grabbed our things and departed the classroom, heading back for the Gryffindor common room. We'd practiced later than usual; the sun had already set behind the mountains in the distance as we walked down the empty corridor, for once staying silent instead of conversing like we normally did.

For some reason, that last session had given me a rush of adrenaline, and I could feel it thrumming in my veins as we continued on, the only sound our echoing footsteps. I snuck a glance at Remus, who was shuffling along beside me with his hands in his pockets, lost deep in thought and frowning slightly.

I suddenly flashed back to yesterday and everything that happened with Aubrey, and my conversation with James and Sirius. I still hadn't decided what I wanted to tell Remus – or if I even should – but somehow, he seemed to read my mind, for he was then asking, "What happened with Aubrey yesterday?"

My steps faltered slightly, and I pretended to be very interested in the fraying strap of my bag as he looked over at me questioningly. Fuck. What did I say?

"He's a git," I said, shrugging and trying not to squirm under his scrutiny.

He snorted. "I gathered that much. But was he…bothering you, or something?"

Shit. He was stepping into a minefield now – unknowingly, of course, but still.

I crossed my arms over my chest, hoping that was indication enough that I wanted to get away from this subject as fast as possible, but he didn't seem to get the hint. "Piper, you can talk to me. You know that, right?"

"It's not something I want to talk about," I said stiffly, and he frowned.

"Was it about what Sirius had said?" he pressed, and unconsciously, I began walking faster. "Piper, hey, what's wrong? Piper—"

He reached out and grabbed my arm, and I snapped.

"No!" I shouted, ripping my arm free from his grasp, and he halted immediately, staring at me with wide eyes as I breathed heavily, suddenly feeling feverish.

"Please," I said quietly, refusing to make eye contact. "Please, just – don't, okay? I-I can't."

"Piper, I'm sorry—" he said, but I shook my head quickly.

"It's not your fault," I said. "I'll just, um, see you tomorrow. I'm not hungry anymore."

And before he could say another word I sped off, leaving him alone in the dim corridor.