Start by Odette C. Bell Page A

went straight
to her apartment.
    True,
he hardly knew her.
    And,
yeah, people might start to wonder why he was paying ‘the worst
recruit in 1000 years' so much attention.
    But
that didn't stop him.
     

Chapter
11
    Cadet
Nida Harper
    She
tried to concentrate during her classes, but she couldn't. Her
attention kept on drifting.
    She
swore she was seeing things. She even rang the medical bay to
mention this to one of the doctors, but they reassured her it was
nothing.
    She
just needed rest.
    They'd
released her about midday, and though she'd been given an order to
return to her apartment for some bed rest, she'd ignored
it.
    It
hadn't been a direct order, and she really couldn't afford to miss
any more classes.
    So
she'd headed to her next lecture instead.
    She'd
slipped in the back of a lecture hall, yet again, just as Sharpe
was finishing up some prosaic talk on the history of telekinetic
implants.
    She'd
tried to pay attention to him, she honestly had, but all too soon,
she'd realised that the people around her had stopped listening and
had turned to stare at her instead.
    She
was no stranger to attention, but it only ever coincided with when
she was making an idiot out of herself. Other than that, all the
other cadets ignored her.
    Well
they weren't ignoring her now. She could feel their collective
stares concentrate on the back of her neck with all the force of an
anti-matter laser.
    She
tried to ignore it and focus on Sharpe, but she couldn't. Not only
was it seriously hard to brush off everyone's gob smacked gazes,
she simply couldn't focus. It felt as if her mind had been replaced
with fog.
    Once
the lecture was over, she jumped up and scooted out the back before
anyone could ask her questions.
    Clearly, news about what had happened last night had
spread.
    She
didn't want to answer any questions, because she doubted she could
give a satisfactory reply.
    She
had no idea why her implant had malfunctioned, and that was a
question only someone way smarter than her would be able to
answer.
    Though
she tried to get away, it was hard, and she had to race past quite
a few curious cadets to get to safety.
    She
quickly ducked down several corridors, feeling a little like she
was running away from the press.
    Then,
finally, when the coast was clear, she felt a sudden burst of pain
stab hard through her chest.
    She
doubled over and planted a hand on the wall beside her, breathing
hard.
    “Harper,” someone snapped.
    She
looked up to see Sharpe bearing down on her.
    “Oh,
umm,” she straightened, thankful her shooting pain lasted only for
a few seconds.
    Sharpe
shot her a withering look, but it didn't last. With a shake of his
head, he sighed. “What are you doing?” he asked, his exasperation
clear.
    “Oh,
don't mind me,” she tried, patting at her uniform, trying to make
it neat. “I had a little accident last night.”
    “Little?” he gave a disbelieving laugh, “it was a major
accident. And I know all about it.”
    She
winced. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to,” she began.
    “It
was hardly your fault, Harper,” he said.
    “It
wasn't?” she asked stupidly.
    He
gave a long-suffering sigh. Then he shooed several cadets along as
they walked up the corridor, gawking at her.
    She
was silently thankful for his help. And it felt weird to be
thankful for anything Sharpe did.
    Then
he returned his burning gaze to her, and she felt like withering up
and dying on the spot.
    “I
thought your doctors told you to go back to your apartment to get
some rest,” he enquired with a snap.
    “Um,
no, they suggested it. When I asked whether it was a direct order,
they said it wasn't,” she managed bravely.
    “Ha.
So you thought you'd ignore their suggestion,” he stressed that
word, “and come to class. Well I admire your sudden enthusiasm, but
do us both a favour, and just go home.”
    “I
can't,” she swallowed hard, muscling up some courage as she did,
“I'm too far behind.”
    “You
can catch up later,” he