Surviving Year One (Grim Reaper Academy 1)

Oh, for fuck’s sake, stop saying my name! There are over one hundred people here. I don’t want all of them to know me.

“It is, of course. But I can’t be in the Violent Death Cabal.” I pointed at the scroll he was holding. “Maybe you… err… you skipped a line? Or read the line before…? It happens.” I giggled awkwardly.

The Headmaster blinked, readjusted his glasses, and looked again. I could see it in his eyes that he wasn’t going to say something different than the first two times. Well, at least he was humoring me by checking.

“No, young lady. It says here, and the test is never wrong. You’re in the Violent Death Cabal. Here is your badge. Please join the others now, so we can move on and have dinner sometime this evening.”

“Oooh.” My desperation was evident in my voice, behavior, movements… everything. I reached out and took the badge from him, all the while using my scythe as a crutch. I was afraid I’d faint from so much stress and, frankly, sheer terror. When I wrapped my fingers around my VDC badge, the dining hall broke into an uproar.

I’m never going to be a Grim Reaper. I’m going to be Grim Reaper meat.”

CHAPTER SIX

I was sitting at the end of the table, as far from the guys as I could. The VDC wasn’t only an all-boys club (well, with one tiny, blue-haired exception this year), but it was also the most numerous Cabal. The other three Cabals had a manageable number of students, but the VDC was fucking huge. Talk about fierce competition.

They didn’t leave me alone for long. After Headmaster Colin was done with the list and announced that dinner could be served, the VDC guys started pointing at me, laughing, shoving each other playfully, and making jokes at my expense. Normie, they called me. Petty human. Idiot. Ugly face. Kuchka. That one hurt the most. They couldn’t possibly know my dad called me that in his random moments of anger. They knew I was Bulgarian. My name had given it away. They particularly liked that insult, too.

“Kuchka,” Sariel laughed. “It sounds way better than bitch.”

How could an archangel be so cruel and still look divinely handsome while doing it? I made myself small in my seat. Normally, I would have stood up for myself, but they were a gang, and I was one girl. I looked over at Klaus at the Merciful Death table. The Neutral Death table was between us, and I could barely catch a glimpse of him. He waved at me, and I gave him a weak smile. Damn it. This is just my luck. How the hell does the only human girl in this stupid school end up in the only Cabal where girls aren’t allowed? Well, it seemed that they were allowed. It just so happened that no girl before me had showed skills to become a Violent Death Reaper. And what does it even mean? Violent. Like, do I hack my victims over and over with my scythe after they’re already dead? And are they my victims if their time has come? So many questions, such a bad time to zone out and lose myself in them. When I came back to the present, I noticed the boys had crowded around me. I was squeezed in between GC and a dark-haired guy I didn’t know.

“Why so sad, normie? You’re here now, so why don’t you just relax and play with us?”

He tried to sneak his hand around my waist, and I pushed him away.

“Don’t touch me,” I growled.

“Are you sure? Don’t say no when you actually want to say yes.”

I looked at him as if he were from another planet and suffered from a complete lack of understanding of plain English.

“No. No means no. Get off of me. Go sit somewhere else, you’re suffocating and obnoxious.”

He laughed out loud. “That’s exactly what all my bitches say. And they always come back for more! Normie, you’re reading me like an open book. We’re meant to be together. For a few hours, at least.”

I rolled my eyes. He didn’t attempt to grab me by the waist again, so there was that. As we sat side by side, our arms touched, and no matter how hard I wanted to pull away, I couldn’t. Skin on skin. We were all still wearing our PE uniforms and, frankly, I was surprised none of us stank after all the jumping, flying, and teleporting we’d done just two hours before. It must have been the fabric. It was probably enchanted. Because mages.

Servants brought in the food on large trays and plates, then bottles of water, lemonade, and even some light beer. Students dug in, piling potatoes, roast, steamed vegetables, and bread onto their plates, pouring each other beer, cheering, and congratulating each other. I bit my lower lip as I stared at my empty plate. Between GC and the dark-haired guy, I could barely move. GC stood up, leaned over the table, and cut himself a huge piece of roast. His arm brushed mine again, and a sigh escaped my lips. This was going to be hard. No. This was going to be hell. I took my fork and my knife and dared to look up at the food, trying to decide what was closer to me and more accessible. I really didn’t want to attract even more attention. Sariel was sitting across from me, sending me murderous looks every two minutes. Paz was busy chewing on a potato, and Francis was ignoring everyone.

The atmosphere changed when a bunch of girls grabbed their plates and glasses and came to sit down at the VDC table. I cocked an eyebrow. Oh, so eating with your Cabal wasn’t a rule. As Lorna squeezed between Sariel and Francis, and Pandora practically straddled Paz’s lap, I took my plate and looked for a way to escape. I was sure the MDC wouldn’t mind adopting me.

“Move, please?” I asked GC when he pretended like he hadn’t noticed I wanted to get out of there.

“What? Why? You’re not going anywhere, normie.”

I furrowed my brows. “Yes, I am. Move!”

Two girls came to stand behind GC, a curvy redhead and an exotic beauty with dark skin and dark eyes. The redhead scowled at me. She looked almost as threatening as Pandora. So, all redheads were major bitches? Come on! What a cliché!

“Scram, dumpster girl. You’re in my spot.”

“How am I in your spot? I can’t be in your spot on the first day of school.”

She leaned in and hissed in my face. “My spot is next to GC. Always. Do yourself a favor and don’t ever forget it.”

I threw my hands in the air, in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, okay! I don’t want to sit here, anyway. Now, if the false god would kindly let me out…”

It was the brunette’s turn to scowl at me. “Watch your mouth, dumpster girl. He’s a god in his own right. Mortals worshipped his ancestor, they brought offerings to him, sacrificed goats on his altar, bathed his feet in their blood… If that doesn’t scream god to you, then you’re dumber than I thought, and you shouldn’t be here. You know nothing about our world. Go back to the filthy trailer you came from, human.”