“Oh.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re thinking. But it wasn’t like that.”
Chloé grinned. “Like what?”
“You think I don’t know where your mind just went? Dirty little girl.”
“Are you trying to tell me whatever you had didn’t start there?”
“No. But it wasn’t expected. And just because we were there, didn’t mean it was going to happen.”
“Then why did it?”
A wistful expression crossed Zayne’s face. “Because he was the right boy, in the right place, at the right time. Some would say it was the hand of God.”
ZAYNE STARED OUT the window of the black limousine as it turned onto a long, tree-lined drive that wound back into the woods, as though the school that was their final destination was some sort of secret academy.
He rolled his eyes at the thought. The more likely scenario was that the place was hidden away because it was where rich asshole parents like his sent their defective children to keep them out of the public eye.
Yeah, that definitely seemed more like the senator.
Zayne looked across the back seat at his father, a man who was about to dump his problems at someone else’s door, and couldn’t help but resent him.
This wasn’t the first time he’d been sent away, though it was the most extreme. Every other stint had been a couple of weeks here and there because of his “bad behavior.” But apparently selling drugs to the spoiled rich kids at his prestigious high school was too much for the senator to overlook, and he’d decided it was easier to just send Zayne away for good this time.
It wasn’t all that surprising, considering his parents had told him time and time again that they never wanted him in the first place. His conception was nothing but a political move they’d had to deal with for the past fourteen years.
As the car slowed to a stop in front of a massive wrought-iron gate, Zayne peered out the window and stared up at the spikes on top.
“This a prison or a school?”
“The latter,” the senator said, his brows pulling down in a deep, disapproving V. “Although with the rate you were going, a couple more months and it would’ve been the first.”
Zayne scoffed. “Bullshit.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said bullshit. I was selling weed to spoiled shit kids. Ooh, big deal.”
“It is a big deal. You were caught and expelled. You brought shame on this family.”
“Like I’m the first,” Zayne said as the car pulled up in front a huge stone building that resembled an old English castle.
Jesus, what the hell is this place?
“You listen to me.” The senator leaned forward and pointed a finger. “It wasn’t easy to get you in here midyear.”
Translation—he’d paid out the ass. But if he expected Zayne to feel happy or grateful, he was shit out of luck. Zayne hadn’t felt anything in years.
“You’re going to get out of this car, shut your mouth, and act like a respectable human being.”
The door was pulled open, but before the senator got out, Zayne said, “And if I don’t?”
“If you don’t, the first option is still available.”
Prison. He wouldn’t put it past his father to send him off to one of those scare-them-straight facilities, although it would have to be hush-hush. Couldn’t have anyone know that the family was anything other than perfect.
Zayne climbed out of the car and slammed the door shut behind him. As he crossed the gravel drive with his father, the massive double doors opened and a tall, grey-haired man, who reminded him of Lurch, stepped out.
“Ah, you must be Senator Copeland.”
The senator plastered on his “public” smile and held out his hand. “That would be right. Principal Morton?”
“Yes, that’s right. And you must be Zayne.”
“No shit.”
“Zayne.”
He couldn’t begin to explain the satisfaction he got from the senator’s head almost popping off at his response.
“That’s quite all right,” Morton said, taking a step toward Zayne. “I’ve seen and heard much worse over my twenty years here.”
Only twenty? Zayne had expected at least a century.
Morton held a hand up, gesturing to someone, and not a second later a skinny kid in a pompous uniform ran up to his side and stood at attention.
“This is Gerald. He’s going to show you around while I go over your stay with your father. If you have any questions, he should be able to answer.” Morton looked at the skinny kid. “Gerald, this is Zayne. He’s going to be staying in Dorm Block F. But since it’s just turning lunchtime, why don’t you go ahead and show him to the meal hall first? Then you can take him to get his schedule and uniforms.”
Gerald nodded, and it was all Zayne could do not to roll his eyes. Guy looked like he was about to kiss Morton’s ass.
He shrugged his backpack up his arm and was about head off when the senator cleared his throat.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” The look in his eye was one that said, Fall in line, put on a good show. But fuck that. He was being sent here for the next six months. So if the senator thought he was going to smile, hug him, and do the fake I’ll miss you bit, he was fucking delusional.
“Nope. Pretty sure you had Harold pack all my shit.”
The senator’s eyes narrowed as though he could drop him with one look, but when Morton glanced his way, that public smile quickly returned.
Maybe the senator was doing Zayne a favor. Six months without his disapproving eye watching his every move would be a relief, and maybe if he tried hard enough, he could forget the asshole existed.
“This way,” Gerald said. “The meal hall is down the end of the east wing. Everyone should still be in there, since lunch hour is still happening.”
Great, just what I need. A bunch of weirdo dorks staring at me.
He kept that opinion to himself, though, since it was either go with Gerald or stay here with Lurch and the senator. He followed Gerald down a hallway that seemed to go on for miles and took in the photographs of past students, framed artwork, and ugly-ass sculptures, and wondered—not for the first time—what constituted good art, because some of these pieces were total shit.
“Okay, we’re here.”
Gerald pushed open a huge wooden door, and as the bustling hall with its busy tables and loud chatter came into view, Zayne’s worst nightmare came to life. Every single student in the school stopped what they were doing and looked his way, sizing up the new guy. It took everything he had not to take a fucking bow.
Gerald cleared his throat and gestured to the right, and Zayne headed over to the side of the hall, wishing he could vanish.
“This is one of the four main commons,” Gerald said as if Zayne actually cared. “There’s the dining hall, reading hall, rec hall, and—”
“Funeral hall?”
Gerald stopped and looked at him with a frown, and Zayne shrugged.
“You know, where they put us after we die of boredom.” When Gerald just stared at him, Zayne shook his head. “Sorry. Keep going.”
“It’s cool. I get it. This place can be overwhelming when you first get here.”