Midnight. Derek Landy

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      “I thought I might try it. Then I changed my mind.”

      “You’re the reason I hate my job,” said the man in the hairnet, and he dumped Omen’s lunch on to a tray and handed it over. “Next!”

      Omen sat at one of the long tables. Across the hall, Axelia was chatting with her friends. They laughed. He wondered if they were laughing about him.

      Never joined him at the table, sitting opposite. She had her hair down, and she was wearing a hint of make-up that really brought out her eyes.

      “Lunch guy does not like you,” she said, digging into her salad.

      “You were in the queue?” Omen asked.

      “I’m the one who told you to hurry up.”

      “Oh, cheers for that.”

      “I made a promise to myself to interact with you in public at least three times a day. I figure it’ll make you more popular with people.”

      “So I can expect a third interaction this evening?”

      Never took a swig from her bottle of water. “This is our third interaction. Me telling you to hurry up was our second. The first one was when I threw that ball of paper at your head this morning.”

      “That was you?”

      “You should have opened it up. It had a picture inside, a caricature of Mr Chicane that was quite satirically brilliant, if I do say so.”

      “What do you think of him anyway?” Omen asked.

      “Chicane? His eyes are a bit too close together, a feature I captured splendidly in my artwork, but he’s OK.”

      “You don’t think he’s a bit … off?”

      “In what way?”

      “Like … he only teaches for a few weeks every year.”

      “Because he has a speciality,” Never said. “He only gives a few modules every couple of terms.”

      “I think he’s up to something.”

      Never put down her fork. “Omen, as your only friend, I have no choice but to be the one to tell you – stop.”

      “Stop what?”

      “Stop this,” said Never. “Stop looking for bad guys and conspiracies. Yes, Lilt was working for Abyssinia, but that doesn’t mean any other member of the faculty is involved. Yet you think there’s something about Chicane, just like you thought there was something suspicious about Peccant, and before him it was, what, the ground staff, wasn’t it? For the last seven months, you’ve been searching for an adventure.”

      Omen blushed. “No, I haven’t.”

      “I get it. You were part of something huge. We both were. But it’s over.”

      Omen gave a little laugh. “No, it’s not. Skulduggery said he’ll call me when he needs me.”

      “Why would he need you? You’re fourteen, and you’re not exactly at the top of your class, are you? They don’t need us, Omen.”

      “That could change at any moment.”

      “Yes,” said Never, “it could. And, if it does, awesome. But the problem is that you’re waiting for it like it’s a sure thing. It’s not. Adventure happens to some people. Skulduggery and Valkyrie. Your brother. It intrudes upon their lives whether they want it or not. But the rest of us don’t live like that. I wish we did. I’d love to be off adventuring with Auger or Skulduggery. Maybe not Valkyrie, because she’s responsible for murdering thousands of people, including my brother.”

      “Never, you know that was Darquesse.”

      “I didn’t say Valkyrie did the murdering, did I? I just meant she bears some responsibility for her evil dark side going nuts and obliterating a quarter of the city, that’s all. Anyway, I admit it, like you, I’m waiting for the call to adventure. But, unlike you, I’m not putting everything else on hold while I wait.”

      “I’m not putting anything on hold.”

      “How did you do on that test yesterday? You got the results back, didn’t you?”

      “I did fine.”

      “Did you?”

      “Yes.”

      “Did you pass?”

      “Almost.”

      “And how many assignments have you started?”

      Omen folded his arms. “That’s a trick question. We haven’t been given any assignments.”

      “We’ve been given four,” said Never.

      “Oh.”

      Never sighed, and leaned forward. “I know you, Omen. I look across the room and you’re sitting there, daydreaming, and I know exactly what you’re thinking about.”

      “No, you don’t.”

      “It’s always the same two things. The first is Axelia Lukt.”

      “Well, obviously.”

      “I heard about that, by the way. Tough luck.”

      “Yeah.”

      “And the second thing you’re daydreaming about is Valkyrie kicking the door open and saying she needs your help to save the world. Am I close?”

      Omen said nothing.

      “See? Knew it. That’s not going to happen, but you want to believe, so much, that they’re going to swoop in and take you away from all the normal stuff that you’re not actually doing any of the normal stuff.”

      Omen picked up his knife and fork again, and started cutting into his chicken. “Can we stop talking about this? I know you mean well, but you’re starting to annoy me.”

      “I don’t want to annoy you, Omen,” Never said gently. “I don’t want to be the serious one in any friendship I have, I really don’t. I hate being the serious one. I’m the funny one. I’m the quirky, gender-fluid friend with a heart of gold and abs of steel.”

      “You don’t have abs.”

      “That’s only because I don’t like to sweat. My point is, I don’t want to be the one to give you bad news. But no one else cares enough.”

      They ate in silence.

      Once they’d finished, Never reapplied a little lipgloss. “How do I look?”

      Omen sighed. “Low-key glamorous.”

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