Andrew
I was leaning against the doorframe, hands buried deep in my pockets, acting like a shark just waiting for the current to shift. The moment I heard her door handle click, I pushed off the wall with the casual grace. I was perfectly in stride beside her when she emerged, turning to head for the stairs. She shot me a look so cold it could have flash-frozen the hallway, but I didn't blink.
"Feeling better this morning, Rue?" I asked, my voice bright enough to be annoying, and hooked an arm around her, squeezing her shoulder.
She looked down at my hand like it was a contagious rash. The next thing I knew, it was a blur of wolfen speed: she caught my pointing finger, twisted it until the joint screamed in protest, and twirled out of my reach with the agility of a gymnast. Despite the
