Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
“I already told you I didn’t cheat on that test,” I snapped.
Not that he believed me, of course. All he saw was his delinquent daughter who’d shamed him by getting kicked out of the expensive school he’d shipped me off to at age eleven—most likely so he could brag about paying the ninety-thousand dollar a year tuition while not having to deal with me. Except now, he did have to deal with me. For the last two months of my school year. The horror.
“I’ve set up for your paycheck to be directly deposited into my account since you owe me for the last two months of tuition.”
Annoyance rippled through me. “You know I can just get mom to pay you.”
“I don’t need the money, Drucella.” He huffed, setting the spatula onto the counter. “It’s the principle. It’s about you learning a little bit of responsibility for your disastrous behavior.”
“Yes, yes, I’m such a disappointment, I know.” I was so done with this.
I went upstairs, changed for school, then grabbed my purse. I knew he expected me to refuse to go, and that was exactly why I went, the same reason I suffered through the humiliation of working that drive through. Because I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Like any “spoiled brat” would do, I made sure to slam the front door on my way out. It had been seven months since I’d seen him. He’d been here for two minutes and I already preferred being alone, and I hated being alone.
* * *
Orientation through an almost empty school had been one thing. This—this was another thing entirely.
Students poured into the school through an open doorway. Girls wore fishnet tights and crop tops, shorts their asses hung out of. It was a little shocking for someone whose entire life had been spent in a school with rigid uniform rules. And God, did I feel out of place.
A massive guy shifted past me. My gaze went from his spiked hair to the eyeliner caked around his eyes to the studded dog collar around his neck. Yep. I was not in Kansas anymore.
“You stupid fuck!” Shouts boomed down the hall, and I jumped when a guy got slammed against the lockers. “I’ll fucking kill you and your mother.” The one shouting threw a punch, and all hell broke loose. One of them ended up on the dirty tiled floor, the other on top. Students congregated around, pointing and laughing while the smack of fists against cheeks echoed down the hall. And the teachers? They passed by with hardly a second glance.
Blood splattered the tiles, and I turned away. My stomach rolled as I shouldered through the packed hallways to my assigned locker and debated going to the office to see if I would get sent home if I said I pretended to be ill.
I turned the combination to my lock. Just as it popped open, my phone buzzed with a text from Genevieve:
Gen: How’s public school? Is it like TV???
I snapped a picture of the guy out cold in the front of the dented lockers and sent it to Genevieve.
Gen: OMG, that’s deplorable.
Me: Welcome to my new hell. Let’s hope I don’t get stabbed by the end of the day.
Gen: I’ll cry at your funeral and get ‘rent a crowd.’
Me: Thanks
I’d just put my belongings away when the ambassador who’d shown me around last week popped up beside me, all bouncing ponytail and smiles. “Hey, Drew.”
“Uh.” I closed the locker door, trying to recall her name. “Hey…Nora?”
“If you want to sit with me and some of the other girls at lunch, you’re welcome to.” She smiled again, and I questioned how genuine it was.
One, because at Black Mountain, everyone was fake and kindness always came with a catch. And two, because Olivia had put the fear of God in me, and I was half waiting on Nora to start wielding a razor blade like she was a guest star on Orange is the New Black.
The crowded hallway shifted, students scrambling to get out of the way of whoever was coming their way. I glanced in the direction of the chaos, and there he was. Bellamy. Two tattoo-covered guys trailed behind him like loyal subjects. From the reaction of everyone in that corridor, it was obvious he ran this shithole school. And from my five minutes here, I’d already surmised it was absolutely awful, so how bad did that make him?
Nora looked over her shoulder, then back to me with a shake of her head. “Okay. I see the way you’re looking. And just. No.”
My gaze drifted over the tight black shirt that clung to defined muscles, stopping on the delicate script tattoos that circled his wrists. He was absolutely the hottest guy I’d ever seen, and that was annoying.
“And... you’re still looking...” She sighed like I was a lost cause. “Yeah. They’re hot, but Bellamy, Hendrix, and Wolf are no good. Just trust me on this.”