“Even you?” I lean forward and notice that the smile drops off her face pretty damn quickly.
“I’m the exception,” she murmurs, and I sit back.
Interesting.
“Why are you the exception? Not interested in the tall, dark, and brooding types?”
Her eyes take on a shuttered expression, and I immediately feel bad for asking.
“I have a … boyfriend,” she says, putting an end to that line of questioning. “What about you? Do you like the tall, dark, and brooding boys?”
“They are my brothers,” I say.
Only two of them. I don’t want to let on that my lady bits might be feeling kind of weird around Corbin these days.
Trixie scoffs and throws the pillow at me. “They are not your brothers.”
“Might as well be,” I exhale and glance out the window.
“Oh? Do tell.”
Trixie pats the mattress, and I climb on, lying back beside her. We both stare at the ceiling.
It’s weird how comfortable I feel with her already. The guys’ cryptic words about Almadale Prep seem very misconstrued now.
I think I’m going to like it here.
“In a nutshell, Brock has nothing to do with me, Bodhi calls me sis, and Corbin just stares intently. All the time.” I end the sentence with a spooky voice.
Trixie giggles beside me. “Yeah, you about summed them up.”
“Good to know they don’t treat me any differently then,” I say sarcastically.
She sits up. “Come on. Let’s go get something to eat.”
I get the distinct impression that she doesn’t want to discuss them anymore.
“Perfect. I’m starved. I have one more bag to grab downstairs though.”
I follow Trixie out of the room. She waves at a few girls she knows but doesn’t bother to introduce me. I’m not sure if I’m offended or relieved. I’m not scared to meet people, but having so many eyes on me at once is disconcerting.
“Do you have your schedule yet?” I ask Trixie once we are on the elevator.
“Yeah, hold on,” she says as she pulls out her phone, looking up her classes. “Chemistry II, History IV, American English, and a free period. What about you?”
“History IV, Calculus II, free period, and then American English. Damn. I was hoping we’d have a class or two together. I—shit.”
“What?” Trixie peeks over my shoulder as I hold the door to the dorm open, my eyes taking in the scene in front of me.
My bag is open, the contents strewed across the ground in front of the dorm.
“Of course it was the bag with all of my underwear,” I moan and rush forward, picking up my lacy bras and panties as fast as I can.
Trixie bends to help me, picking up clothing items until both our hands are full. I locate my bag behind the hedges that line the building, obviously wedged in there so I would have to look for it.
Fuckers.
“I guess you’ve already made some enemies,” Trixie surmises while helping me stuff clothing inside the crumpled, dirty suitcase.
“I don’t even know anyone here.” I frown in confusion.
“Doesn’t matter. You are new and already closer to the kings than any other girl here. I told you they would kill to be in your position.”
“They are welcome to it. It’s a shitty position anyway. Speaking of those dicks, I’m betting it was them who did this.”
Trixie’s eyes widen, and her mouth makes a little O.
“Probably that fucker Brock. He hates me.” Anger courses through me as I imagine him invading my privacy and rifling through all of my clothes.
“Don’t jump to conclusions just yet. If you ask me, this isn’t their style. You know, if they were wanting to get to you.”
“What is their style?”
“More … subtle. This has girl drama written all over it.”
Girl drama. Exactly what I need.
“Do you see my uniforms?” I stand, putting my hands on my hips and turning in a full circle. Wrinkling my nose, I squint, hoping I missed them lying somewhere farther off. When I don’t see any other items of clothing, my stomach drops. “Oh no.”
“You don’t see them?” Trixie appears at my side and scans the area.
“Dammit, dammit, dammit.” I blow out a breath of frustration and bend back down to zip up my suitcase.
“You can borrow one of mine until we get this sorted out,” Trixie says, reaching out to awkwardly pat my shoulder.
I turn and eye her, stifling my irritated laughter as I look at her body. She’s about three inches shorter than me and a size smaller. I’m going to look like I’m spilling out of her uniform.
“Do you think the office has any spares?”
She shrugs, and I bite my lip, considering my options.
“I guess we could always ask,” she says, but the look on her face says she knows they won’t have any.
“Maybe I could find someone a little closer to my size to borrow a uniform from.”
“Good luck.” Trixie eyes my suitcase with apprehension, and I sigh.
“We don’t know who did this. Like I said, my bet is on the guys,” I say, but Trixie doesn’t say anything. I can tell from her face that she has her doubts. “Let me run this up to the room, and we can go eat and then stop by the office.”
Thirty minutes later, we are seated in the commons, surrounded by restaurants everywhere. My new school has a food court with four different gourmet food choices.
I don’t think I’m in Kansas anymore, Toto.
I’m scarfing down a burger and fries, and Trixie is delicately eating her grilled chicken wrap and a side salad when she goes still. I follow her line of sight and tense up as I meet the eyes of Brock, Bodhi, and Corbin. They are lounging across the commons. Bodhi is sitting on top of the table with his feet in a chair.
That must be his throne, I think, rolling my eyes.
I notice no one else is sitting with them, and as I scan the room, I see that they aren’t interacting with anyone else either. I snort and take another bite of my burger.
“Stay here,” Trixie says, rising from her chair.
I reach out, grabbing her wrist. “Where are you going?” I ask around a mouthful of food, and she looks down at me and then jerks her head toward the guys. “I’m coming too.”
I get up and follow her as she weaves in and out of tables. I can sense the eyes of everyone in the room on us, and my skin prickles. We stop in front of their table, and for a moment, no one says anything. We are in some sort of weird standoff, everyone eyeing each other.
“You may approach,” Bodhi says, a smirk plastered across his face. But where his usual smirk boasts of mischief, this one reeks of arrogance.
“Brock,” Trixie says, not looking at Bodhi, whose eyes are solely focused on her.
“Trixie,” Brock says, his tone bored. “Why are you here?”
“Did you fuck with my bag?” I interject as I move forward.
Brock swings his gaze to me, scanning me from head to toe and frowning like he finds me lacking. This is different than his normal cold indifference. This is a blatant brush-off, and it sends me reeling.
What is going on right now?
“Again, why are you here?” He turns back to Trixie, not even bothering to answer my question.