The guy who I assume to be Nokosi grins at them all, making the cut on his lip bleed worse. He raises the fist he just KO’d the guy with and kisses his bulging bicep.
This guy is a piece of fucking work. He’s also extremely beautiful. He also knows it.
I’ve never seen such a sharp jaw, and longer hair on a guy never once appealed to me. It does now.
Long, black hair, tied back with a single hair tie.
He has a tribal-looking tattoo on the arm he just kissed and it is almost as stunning as he is. So intricate, patterned, perfect. I pull out my phone and try to get a picture of it but it’s grainy at best. There are too many bodies between us. Too much space.
As though sensing my eyes on him, or my camera, he looks up, his dark eyes narrow and land on mine, penetrating through my façade and startling me for just a second. His smile fades, his arm lowers. Nobody else seems to notice the exchange between us and that suits me just fine.
I almost shy away but I’m not that kind of person, not anymore. I hold his eyes, reading him, seeing into him. My dad was right, eyes do communicate more than a thousand words and there’s one word in particular that keeps repeating itself as our gazes remain locked.
Damaged.
Nokosi is damaged. Damaged people can always tell.
I need to make myself known to him, because if he’s as arrogant as I believe him to be, he’ll seek me out soon enough.
I have a feeling this school has a hierarchy and I have an even stronger feeling that this guy might be King.
Lakeside prep is the prettiest-looking shithole I have ever come across.
The teachers have sticks up their asses thinking they’re some fucking privileged pricks because they work here. And I learned all that before lunch, first day.
Really this place is just an academy for stuck-up shits that have more money than sense and parents that don’t give a fuck about them. I will admit the food is good. Normally I don’t eat lunch, not because I’m worried about my figure but because the cafeteria is just not a place I want to be. But I need to be here today.
I need to study everybody and everything. This school is nothing like my last school. Or the school before that.
Its files are locked tight, its students watched closely.
I couldn’t get much more than a list of names and seating charts before I arrived and fuck it if I didn’t try. They’ve got some well-funded systems here.
I take my tray, surprised by the food choices. My last place served patties likely made from maggots and the tears of failing students, this place serves bagels with almond butter and organic jelly.
It’s laughable how fancy this place is yet how rowdy the students are. There’s no order, nobody keeping them in control. My last place wasn’t as feral as this and that’s saying something.
There are two girls from the cheer squad dancing on a table in the far corner, the jock-looking assholes at the table beside them throwing a football around, laughing when it hits Blair on the head and causes her to drop her tray.
Blair… maybe I should have agreed to ally with her. Not that she’ll gain me any ranking, but I bet she has a lot of opinions on who are the shits and who are the not shits.
There’s a girl sitting on the floor in the corner with paperwork spread out all around her. Clearly a kiss-ass. Maybe she’s worth speaking to.
Meh.
I raise a brow and sit at the end of the closest table, pulling apart my lunch with my fingers and popping it onto my tongue. It tastes as good as it looks.
Fuck.
The people sitting at the other end of this table start whispering about me. Word has already travelled about the arrival of the new kid.
I find Loki two tables over, whose pencil I snapped this morning, and wink at him when he leans around the head of his friend to look at me. He scowls and looks away, making me laugh through my nose.
When lunch is over, I dump my tray and head out to the halls to explore and familiarize myself with the layout. I skip as I go, chewing on a wad of gum, headphones in one ear but not both. I like to be able to hear my surroundings.
“Miss Deville!” a booming voice calls, forcing me to stop.
“Principal Cooper,” I respond, turning to face him as he waddles in his large legs to reach me. “Problem?”
He’s almost wheezing when he reaches me. Dude needs to eat less pie and do more cardio.
“I spoke to Mr. Bromley.” He wipes at the sweat on his brow with a folded handkerchief. It even has his initials on it and the school emblem. I bet they were a gift from one of his kiss-ass students.
I fold my arms over my chest and give him a settled look. “And?”
“He said you were very disruptive in your first lesson, talking about ties becoming nooses and disturbing your classmates.”
I fight the urge to sigh and roll my eyes. “It was the excitement of my first class, Principal Cooper. I get anxious in social situations and say things I ordinarily wouldn’t say.”
“That’s all well and good but…”
“It’s a genuine thing, I can’t help it. Surely I’m not about to be punished for something I can’t help?”
“Disrupting your class can be helped. As in don’t do it again.”
I salute him. “I’ll try harder to be a better student, Principal Cooper.”
This seems to appease him. “And I’ll try to better understand your anxieties. We want you to feel safe here at Lakeside. Not anxious.”
“I appreciate that, Principal Cooper.” I’m gritting my teeth and forcing a smile as my faux saccharine tone wins him over.
“Well, enjoy the rest of your first day, and remember to come knocking if you need anything.”
I nod and continue my way, almost walking into somebody when I turn. I try to sidestep around the bitch but she does the same, staying in my path, putting us almost chest to chest.
“Who are you?” she asks, looking down her nose at me, brown eyes glittering with malice.
Here we go.
“Back up out of my space and maybe I’ll tell you,” I reply, wanting this day to be over.
She smirks, her thin lips stretch revealing long dimples that make her look a lot older than she is. “Feisty. I can respect that.” I’m surprised when she steps back, giving me a better view of her as a whole. She’s slender, but muscular, definitely sporty, a real knockout. I bet she’s every guy’s wet dream. Teachers included. “Again, who are you?”
“Lilith, I just transferred here.”
“From?”
“None of your business.” When I try to move around her, she steps in front of me again. I press my lips together. “If you’re here to warn me off your boyfriend or tell me that you’re queen bee, I don’t give a fuck. I’m not here for long. I’d like to make it through my first day without having to imprint your pretty face into that locker over there.”
She hesitates, her smirk fading. I’ve succeeded in intimidating her. “You’d resort to violence because I’m in your space?”
“What better reason is there to resort to violence, Barbie?”
One of her posse of three laughs under her breath, the other two who I’m only now getting a good look at seem to freeze. They don’t want this conflict and they’re not about to have their queen bitch’s back.