“Didn’t want you to start drooling, princess.”
My teeth grind together when Bentley pulls her into his side and kisses her on the cheek. “Hey, Jazzy Jazz. Whatcha having for lunch?”
She pushes him away. “What does it matter? And what are you doing here?”
“I’m with Jazz,” my sister says. “What the hell are you guys up to? Why aren’t you sitting with the other royals?”
Reed smirks when she uses air quotes accompanied by an eye roll on that last word.
Bentley bumps his shoulder into Jasmine’s. “I wanted to be by you, baby.”
She shakes her head and looks at Reed expectantly.
He shrugs. “I don’t give a fuck where I sit as long as I have food in front of me.”
Reed and Ainsley exchange a loaded glance. I make a note to ask him about it later.
Jazz narrows her gaze on me. “What about you?”
“I felt like eating here.” I raise an eyebrow. “Anyone got a problem with that?”
She glances over at our normal table and sees three sets of false-lashed eyes glaring a hole through her. Yep, they definitely have a problem with it. My lips twitch when Jazz raises an eyebrow in challenge, which only incenses them further.
She turns back to me. “Fine. You can stay. But only because I know it drives those fake bitches crazy.”
I offer her a wry look. “How magnanimous of you.”
She shrugs. “I try.”
The five of us dig into our food. The guys and I grabbed steak and potatoes, Ainsley got a California roll, and Jazz selected the cheeseburger on an artisan bun with truffle fries. That’s one thing I’ve noticed about her—she doesn’t eat rabbit food like most chicks in this school. The girl has one of the tightest bodies I’ve ever seen—I have no idea where it all goes. She must run a lot.
“Jazz, what are you doing this afternoon?” Ainsley asks. “Wanna watch my rehearsal and we can grab a bite to eat after?”
She nods. “Sure.”
My twin is starring in her ballet studio’s production of Cinderella. Dancing is her life—she’s been taking classes four days a week for the last ten years or so. After our mom died, I think it started out as her way of coping, but it turned into something she actually loves. So much so, she wants to attend Juilliard and dance professionally after graduation. I personally don’t understand her fascination with it, but I’m glad she has something to focus on. Plus, it gets her out of the house a lot which is a good thing. I don’t want her around our father any more than she needs to be.
Ainsley beams. “Great! I can give you a ride home to change then we can—”
“She has plans,” I interrupt. “With me.”
Jasmine folds her arms across her chest. “I sure as hell do not.”
My eyes drill into hers. “You do.”
She scoffs. “And what plans would those be?”
My smile is promising all sorts of wicked things. “It’s a surprise.”
Ainsley’s eyes bounce back and forth between us. “Uh... what am I missing here? What’s going on between you two?” She turns to me. “And not that I’m complaining, but what’s up with you dumping Peyton’s ass in the parking lot this morning? It’s practically all anyone is talking about.”
Bentley laughs while Reed continues inhaling his food. Meanwhile, Jazz and I are locked in a silent battle.
She glances in my sister’s direction. “Absolutely nothing is going on between us.”
“That’s our business—not yours,” I say at the same time.
Ainsley holds her palms up. “O-kay then. Don’t worry about it, Jazz. We can always do it another day. You two have fun doing whatever secret shit you have planned.”
I smile victoriously while Jazz’s face flushes in anger. “Meet me out front after the final bell. I’ll take you home to change then we can be on our way.”
She shakes her head. “I’m sorry, but when exactly did you become the boss of me?”
I lean into her ear, nuzzling my nose against the lobe. “Don’t test me, Jazz. One way or the other, you’re coming with me.”
“Fine. But you’re feeding me.”
“Oh, I’ll feed you something real good, baby. I’ll give you a hint. It starts with D and rhymes with stick.”
She shivers. “I meant actual food, asshole.”
I pull back with a smile. “I suppose I can do that too.”
Bentley looks between us. “Can I get in on this party?”
“No!” both Jasmine and I say in unison.
“I need better friends,” Bent pouts. “At least I still have Reed to entertain me.”
“Nope,” Reed says through a bite of his baked potato. “I have plans.”
Bentley frowns. “Doing what?”
Reed shrugs. “Just stuff.”
I narrow my eyes when both he and my sister suddenly become awfully fascinated with the table. I know he has the hots for Ains but I’ve already made it crystal clear she’s off-limits. Reed’s a good guy—one of the best I know—but he hasn’t been very discriminating with his dick since he lost his virginity at fifteen. My sister doesn’t need to get mixed up in that shit.
“What kind of stuff?” I ask.
“Go to the mall,” he answers. “I have to find a birthday present for my mom, so I’ll probably drop in that damn purse store she like. Maybe check out the new LeBrons while I’m there. Stuff like that.”
There’s something he’s omitting, but I’m dropping it for now because I have to make a few calls before I have to get back to class.
“I’m out. I’ve got some arrangements to make before lunch is over.” Just for shits and giggles, I place a kiss on Jazz’s cheek as I stand. She stiffens as I expected, and out of the corner of my eye, I can see Peyton fuming. “I’ll see you in Lit, babe.”
I have to bite back my laughter as I feel Jasmine glaring at me while I walk out of the room. Who knew fucking with her would be so much fun?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
JAZZ
It seems as if the kingdom is rallying behind their queens. By the time lunch rolled around, I’d been subjected to countless taunts, trip attempts, insults, and shoulder checks. For whatever reason, all the guys are staying as far away from me as possible, but there’s plenty of female students to pick up the slack. I almost texted Ainsley, asking her to meet me in the library for lunch, but then I realized that would make them think they’re winning and I refused to do that.
I will admit I got a little thrill when the guys sat down at our table, knowing how much it bothered Peyton. I know it’s petty, but after the morning I’d had, I don’t feel bad about it. Unfortunately, Kingston’s little stunt only made the catty behavior even worse for the second half of the day, but it was almost worth it to see the look on my evil stepsister’s face.
Speaking of Kingston... my phone buzzes with a text from him, indicating he’s waiting for me out front. He dropped me off after school so I could change, and he went home to do the same. He said to dress casual and comfortable so I’m wearing a pair of skinny jeans, a plain red t-shirt, and my favorite pair of Chucks. Thankfully, neither Madeline or my father are home—no surprise there. They would both probably shit a brick if they saw me leaving the house in this outfit. I don’t understand what their problem is with the minimal wardrobe I brought with me, but they’ve made their distaste abundantly clear. Sure, everything besides underwear were bought at a thrift shop, but they’re all in good condition. It’s not like I’m walking around in anything faded or stained. Maybe they would approve if I called it vintage instead of second hand. I snort at the thought.