Thyla - Kate Gordon [19]
I looked down at my hand, flexing it. I tried to ignore the memory of last night’s hallucination; the one where my hands had become paws. My hands were normal. I had thought Rhiannah’s grip strong as well. If my strength was abnormal, then hers was equally so.
‘Hey, it’s okay. I’m just teasing,’ said Rhiannah, smiling. ‘I’m pretty fit myself. It’s not a bad thing. You wanna tell me what your nightmare was about?’
I shook my head. Part of me wanted to tell her about the monster and the screaming but another part of me worried she might not understand. She was an ordinary girl. I was sure she did not dream of beasts and howling. My face flushed as I lied, ‘I’m not really sure.’
Rhiannah grinned. ‘Yeah, I have dreams like that all the time. Isn’t it frustrating when you wake up and you can’t remember a single thing? You okay now, roomie?’
‘I’m okay now, roomie,’ I replied. I liked the way the word felt in my mouth. It felt friendly. I couldn’t imagine Charlotte Lord saying ‘roomie’.
Rhiannah grabbed a bunch of her thick, dark hair and shoved it roughly behind her ear. I noticed that she had a small scratch on her forehead just below her hairline and a streak of mud above her nose.
‘Did you hurt yourself on your bushwalk?’ I asked.
‘What?’ Rhiannah’s hand rushed to her forehead. ‘Oh. Yeah, I guess so. Those bushwalks can get pretty rowdy!’
And right then I wanted to ask, ‘How rowdy can they get? Was it rowdy on the day Connolly’s daughter disappeared?’
But maybe it was too soon.
Maybe I should wait for a little while before I asked. Rhiannah seemed very nice, but I should get to know her a little bit better before I decided whether I could trust her.
Rhiannah grinned. Then she put a hand on my shoulder and said, ‘Listen, mate, I’m sorry I wasn’t here to, you know, welcome you to Casa Rhiannah and all.’
‘Casa Rhiannah?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘It’s what my mates Harriet and Sara started calling it, because I lived here alone. Like a weird, crazy old loser hermit! I guess now we can call it Casa Rhiannah Tessa. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?’
‘Yes,’ I replied, shyly.
‘So anyway,’ Rhiannah went on, smiling, ‘It’s getting pretty close to breakfast time, so we should think about heading. I’m totally stuffed. I didn’t get in ’til two, and you were dead to the world with no blankets on. You don’t like blankets?’
‘I was too hot.’
‘Yeah, they overheat the crap out of these rooms. I have no idea why. Maybe Princess Charlotte complained about it being too cold once.’
‘You call her that, too?’ I asked. ‘Erin called her that.’
‘Everybody calls her that. Charlotte Lord is the biggest princess this side of England. I feel so sorry for you, having to have her as your mentor.’
‘She’s not so bad,’ I said, feeling like I should defend Charlotte. After all, she had been very helpful to me yesterday, showing me where everything was, and where to go, and how to act, and introducing me to people I should know.
‘She’s not so bad because you haven’t got on her bad side yet. And, trust me, that’s really easy to do. Charlotte has very … particular ideas about what she likes and doesn’t like. It’s very easy to piss her off.’
‘Piss her off?’
I hadn’t heard that expression before. I mean, I had heard the word ‘piss’ used as another word for urination, but I assumed (and hoped) that Rhiannah wasn’t talking about urination. That would be rather odd. And unsanitary.
‘You know, make her angry,’ said Rhiannah.
‘Strange expression,’ I murmured.
‘Yeah, I suppose it is.’ She nodded thoughtfully. ‘Anyway, enough about Her Royal Up-herself-ness. Just take the warning on board, okay? If you want to be all matey mate with her, that’s your choice and I won’t think any less of you, but just, you know, be careful. And I would also advise against telling her anything personal. That girl might only be a princess in most ways, but she is definitely the queen of gossip at Cascade