“Hey, princess.”
I glance up to see Kellan Albright, a senior, standing over me. With his perfect dirty-blond hair and bright-white smile, he’s athletic and has a decent voice. It’s a curse for the rest of us because he landed the male lead and begged out of almost half of rehearsals for sports.
Of course, if any of the girls missed that many rehearsals, we’d get cut. But it’s hard to find guys who’re both willing and capable of doing the part.
“Look forward to seeing you at the party this weekend.”
“The mid-production cast party? Canceled,” Jenna offers with a look toward Carly and her minions. “Carly’s solarium is getting renovated, and her parents won’t have people over until it’s finished.”
“What about your place?” Kellan’s blue eyes dance.
If looks could melt skin, mine would be peeling off from the evil stares of Carly and her minions, and I swallow an incredulous laugh. “As much as we’re all BFFs, that’s as appealing as waxing my eyebrows off.”
He laughs as I head for the doors, falling into step next to me.
“I know I’ve been busy with practice, but we should rehearse together. Maybe at the party.” He squeezes my arm before holding the door for me.
“Maybe.”
I pass him and head to my locker to grab my books and sunglasses, the feel of his touch lingering on my bare skin.
Kellan’s attractive, and a lot of girls would love his attention, but he’s not my type. He’s sports and parties and being seen. But right now, I’ll take my allies where I can get them.
I pull out a pen and lift the front hem of my skirt to write a single word on my thigh in blue ink, then I shut my locker and head for the main doors.
If I’d thought Oakwood Prep would be simpler than the public school I attended most of my childhood, I was wrong. It’s full of people with too much money and too many expectations and too many liposuction.
If I could go back to public school, go back to being normal… I’d take it in a hot second.
Because the difference between them and me is I grew up with less than nothing until I was plucked from that existence and told I was meant for another one.
Outside, I slide my sunglasses on as I head for the parking lot.
The campus is sprawling and beautiful. I soak in the spring day, the expanse of green grass, the mature trees. It’s hot for Dallas, and all I want is to get home and jump in the pool.
I reach the modern steel fountain that marks the middle of the quad, the halfway point between the school and the parking lot, when a familiar form blocks my way.
I swear I’ve hit my daily quota of assholes.
“There are consequences for taking things that don't belong to you.”
Carly stands between me and the parking lot, flanked by minions.
“Roles don't belong to people.”
“I was talking about Kellan,” she retorts.
“People definitely don't belong to people.”
My focus falls to Lana’s dirty manicure, the black smudges up her arm that weren’t there during rehearsal.
Oakwood Prep is like society—the rules supposedly apply equally to everyone. They don’t. Not even close.
Even amongst the rich, there are circles of power, of influence.
Carly’s dad is the head of the school’s board, which means she can do what she wants. To whomever she wants.
“If Kellan’s your pathetic attempt not to die a virgin, good luck with that,” she goes on, leaning in as she senses the kill. “No guy at Oakwood will touch you.”
I close the distance between us and meet her predatory gaze head-on. “Promise I can get that in writing?”
“Carly.”
A low, smooth voice at my back has the baby hairs on my neck lifting. The minions’ attention snaps to behind me.
Uniforms are an attempt to make everyone look the same. In this case, they come up short. All three guys coming down the stairs toward us are good looking, but one stands out. You’d feel this guy’s magnetism in a blackout.
He’s tall, with ropy arms his navy jacket can’t hide, and broad enough he could carry the entire school’s baggage without breaking a sweat. He has an angled jaw and cheekbones, brown eyes a little too serious to be kind, and dark, wild hair.
If Kellan is this school’s preppy king, Tyler Adams is its rebel prince. He has the easy grace earned by being a senior, gorgeous, and a musician.
When he speaks, everyone listens.
When he plays the guitar, everyone worships.
“Tyler,” Carly breathes. “Wanna give me a ride home?”
I don’t wait around for the answer but use the distraction to dodge all of them and head to my car.
I want to get the hell out of this toxic place before I burn it down.
I shift into my silver Audi, turning the key in the ignition.
It doesn’t start.
My forehead falls to the steering wheel as I remember the minions’ black-streaked arms. They probably rummaged under the hood for the shiniest parts to stab at with their manicure sets.
“The Little Mermaid. A girl who has everything but it’s still not enough.”
My attention snaps toward the guy leaning in the passenger window, and I immediately regret leaving it down.
If Tyler Adams and my co-star Kellan share top billing on the “senior boys every junior girl would give their BMW to bang” list, it’s for different reasons.
Kellan’s full of charm, the golden boy who comes from money and radiates ease and promises of good times.
Tyler’s gorgeous. Talented. Mysterious. He comes from nothing and doesn’t blink before taking everything.
But no matter how fascinating he is, it’s a lie.
“Being the daughter of a king doesn’t mean her life is perfect,” I answer at last. “If you think so, you’re dumber than you look.”
He rubs a hand through his dark hair, the chunk of blue at the front that sets him apart. “But you told me I had a great future. You put on a scarf and held my hand and ogled my fate line.”
“It was a charity carnival. I was fourteen.”
“I paid five bucks for that spiritual advice. Don’t tell me I wasted it.”
I hit the start button once more. It makes a grinding noise until I slap a hand against the dash.
Please, don’t let me be stranded at school.
When I blink my eyes open, Tyler’s nodding through the windshield, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, the jacket already gone.
I don’t want Tyler Adams under my hood. But if I have to call my dad, it’ll invite questions as to why my almost-new car won’t start.
So, I pop the hood before rounding to the trunk for my toolkit, dropping it at his feet after I find it. Tyler yanks off his loosened tie and holds it out.
I take the tie from him, draping it around my neck for safekeeping.
I don’t notice his height, his hard body, the careless way he rubs a hand over his neck as he surveys what’s under my hood with a relentless intensity.
“You know why Carly fucks with you.”
I shift against the front fender, twisting one end of his tie around my fingers as I watch. “She’s jealous of my fashion sense.”
He spares me an incredulous look. “You bait her. You walk around this place with your heart on your sleeve, begging to bleed. It’s impossible for her to resist.”