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Tasha didn't seem bothered, however. She chatted with us a bit longer and made plans to see
Christian for dinner. Lissa gave me a sharp look as she, Christian, and I walked down the
elaborate spiral staircase leading back down to the lobby.
"What was that about?" she asked.
"What was what about?" I asked innocently.
"Rose," she said meaningfully. It was hard to play dumb when your friend knew you could read
her mind. I knew exactly what she was talking about. "You being a bitch to Tasha."
"I wasn't that much of a bitch."
"You were rude," she exclaimed, stepping out of the way of a bunch of Moroi children who
came tearing through the lobby. They were bundled up in parkas, and a weary-looking Moroi
ski instructor followed them.
I put my hands on my hips. "Look, I'm just grumpy, okay? Didn't get much sleep. Besides, I'm
not like you. I don't have to be polite all the time."
As happened so often lately, I couldn't believe what I'd just said. Lissa stared at me, more
astonished than hurt. Christian glowered, on the verge of snapping back at me, when Mason
mercifully approached us. He hadn't needed a cast or anything, but he had a slight limp to his
walk.
"Hey there, Hop-Along," I said, sliding my hand into his.
Christian put his anger for me on hold and turned to Mason. "Is it true your suicidal moves
finally caught up with you?"
Mason's eyes were on me. "Is it true you were hanging out with Adrian Ivashkov?"
"I—what?"
"I heard you guys got drunk last night."
"You did?" asked Lissa, startled.