“Will you fuckin’ shut up? I’m not into her,” I say and slam one fist down on the table.
The thud sends stares our way until Brock looks up, and everyone goes back to what they were doing. Which is observing us from the corner of their eyes. At first, it unnerved me, the way our classmates acted toward us, until I realized there was a hierarchy in life. In everything. Better to be at the top than at the bottom, so I don’t question it. I’ve been at the bottom, and I don’t plan on going back.
“You’re lying,” Bodhi says incredulously. “You make fuck me eyes at her all the time.”
“What the hell are fuck me eyes?” I scowl, and he grins.
“You know,” he says, fluttering his eyelashes.
I can’t help but chuckle. “That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.”
“It’s the truth,” he says, shrugging.
Brock throws up a hand. “You don’t even know her. We don’t know her. I don’t fuckin’ trust her, and neither should you.”
“She’s given us no reason to believe she knows anything about what her mother is doing,” I say.
Brock’s eyes widen. “So, you wanna fuck her?”
“Just because I stick up for someone doesn’t mean I want to fuck her,” I spit back, and Bodhi chuckles.
“Even I want to,” Bodhi says.
My fists clench and my nails dig into my palms.
Where is this coming from? How have I let her get under my skin in a short amount of time?
I can’t do this; I can’t focus on her. I have a plan, and everything she is interferes with that plan.
“Shut up, Bodhi,” I say.
He sits back again, raising his chin at someone close by, and I hear a giggle.
“We are the fuckin’ kings. Our castle doesn’t crumble over one fuckin’ girl,” Brock says, conviction on his face.
We sit there in silence for a moment before I stand, shoving my hands in my pockets.
What am I thinking?
I should be focusing on school and doing something with my life, so I can create a good life for Abe. It’s one reason I’ve allowed myself to be on top. I’m not like the rest of these kids. I’m not vindictive and cruel, but I’ve had to be. I can’t be soft, show emotion. These people latch onto that and will tear you apart. So, for the rest of the world, we are cold, hard, merciless, and they respect us. Maybe it’s fear. It’s almost an addictive feeling. That power.
Brock is right though; I can’t let our castle crumble. I’m not in a position to give up the power. I need it too much.
After a few tense stares at each other, I turn, stopping short when someone steps into my path.
She’s looking up at me shyly. What a joke. No one here is shy. They are brought up as sharks their entire lives. They circle until they find the right time to go in for the kill.
“Kelsey.” I nod and then stare at her. Not many girls approach us without our invitation.
“Corbin,” she says, a smile on her face.
She’s pretty, in the cookie-cutter way. But then bright blue eyes flash into my mind, and I scowl, trying not to think about her. I watch the smile drop off her face as she nervously nibbles her bottom lip.
“Can we talk?” she asks, and I narrow my eyes at her.
“Why?” I ask.
I might be on top, but everyone knows who I am, where I came from. The girls don’t usually chase after me. I’m only respected for my position at Brock and Bodhi’s side. I don’t have anything to offer anyone, and they know it.
“We’ve got shit to plan. Catch up when you are done here,” Brock says from behind me, and I nod over my shoulder.
I jerk my head over, indicating for Kelsey to sit at the table the guys vacated.
“Well?” I ask once she is in her chair. I blink slowly, pasting a bored look on my face.
“Some of us were talking,” she begins.
I throw up a hand. “Stop. I don’t care about whatever you talk about with your friends. Get to the point,” I say, cringing inside as I watch her face fall even more.
This isn’t me. But it has to be—for now.
“Do you think Bodhi—”
I stand suddenly, and she scoots back in her chair. I place a hand on each armrest, caging her in as I lower my face down to look her in the eye. Her face drains, turning white, and I grit my teeth together.
“You are smarter than this. Bodhi fuckin’ does as he pleases, and so do I. You don’t please me right now. Leave.” I stand back up, watching as she scrambles from the chair and runs from me, shaking.
She couldn’t handle Bodhi; she shouldn’t even try.
As I raise my head, I meet those piercing blue eyes across the commons. We stare silently for a moment, and then Landry turns, disappointment on her face. I feel it like a punch in my gut, but I remain stoic. I can’t care anymore. I can’t give in to this thread between us. I feel it whenever we are close, almost like I’ve finally found someone who completes me, but I stamp it out. It’s not for me, and it’s not written in the fuckin’ stars or some shit for us.
I ignore the ache to follow her, and I turn away, headed to where I know I’ll find Brock and Bodhi.
I climb the four flights of stairs, opening the large oak door into the attic above the library. Everything in this school reeks of opulence, and the attic is no exception. It’s outfitted with a sitting area, but a layer of dust usually covers the furniture at the beginning of each semester, letting us know that the cleaning crew doesn’t come up here. I think it was a group of students who put this furniture here in the first place. I’m not sure anyone else other than us has a key to it.
“What’s the plan, fuckers?” I yell as soon as the door opens, pushing away my feelings and the hurt in Landry’s eyes as I launch myself onto the couch, raising one arm behind my head and crossing my feet.
“It’s tonight, ladies,” Brock says, a sinister smile on his face. “Time to welcome the newcomers with open arms.”
Some people might call it hazing; we call it initiation. You have to enter the Almadale ranks in some form or fashion. We’ve all done it, and now, it’s the freshman class’s turn.
“We’ve got the plans in place. Be ready at midnight.”
Bodhi tosses something in the air. It lands on my chest, and I pick it up.
“Senior floor, girls’ dorm,” he says, and I flick my eyes to him. “You are on Landry duty.”
“What are you talking about?”
“She’s new here.”
“She’s not a freshman.”
“We aren’t idiots, dipstick,” Brock growls, typing on his phone.
“Who are you talking to?”
“Don’t fuckin’ worry about it,” he says.
I sit up, spinning the key card between my thumb and forefinger.
“What’s going on with you?” I ask, and Bodhi sits up, eyeing Brock.
“I said, don’t worry about it.” Brock pauses as he looks up and at me.
“We don’t have secrets,” I say.
He scoffs, “We don’t?”
“I don’t even fuckin’ talk to Landry, so don’t bring her into this. This is about whatever secret you are keeping from Bodhi and me, and we are tired of it.” I look to Bodhi for agreement, and he nods. Good to know he’s not in on whatever is going on with Brock.