If my parents weren’t called with every single class I missed, I’d definitely avoid this one and get high. That’s one less burden for me. Too bad I can’t. Luckily, I live in my dorm alone and can light up every time I damn well please.
Being a founder’s kid has its perks, like having an entire dorm to myself. It also has its faults, like being forced to be involved, make good grades, and not be overly emotional. The perks don’t outweigh the faults.
When I finally reach her and the surrounding circle, I notice the one thing I wish I could avoid or, rather, the one person. Lennox DeLeon. Student Government President.
Of course.
Of fucking course.
He’s towering over Coach with his arm around her shoulder like they’re best fucking friends. Maybe they are. Doesn’t make him any less than the bane of my existence. Regardless of what his appearance says, he’s not a good guy.
As much as Ten and Bridger have hurt me, Lennox is on a level of his own with assholery.
Always dressed to the nines in his school uniform, tie, blazer, and all, he’s the worst human. He doesn’t see me as I watch him eagerly talk to the class. His words don’t connect with me, but the way his pillow lips move does. Someone this rude shouldn’t be this hot. It’s unnatural and unfair in every way.
His hair is longer. It’s dirty blond and messy but only when he’s not in the halls. Usually, he’s all done up—brushed slick hair and fashionable, like a Ken doll that will fuck you but tell everyone he’s waiting for marriage. He’s a bad boy in a good boy suit dawning this nice persona to get into every Arcadia girl’s skirt.
And he wins every fucking time.
“Lennox is going to be my student aide,” Coach announces.
I’m practically asking God to strike me down and end it all here. Smite me, I beg of you. How can there be Student Gov members in every class I have? Why do they have to infiltrate my life?
They couldn’t just let me be alone in the divorce.
I try not to let loose the unladylike groan that wants to escape, but I don’t have to. Lennox—Lux, as his friends call him—looks directly at me. A smirk tilts at his face. Cocksure and snarky. Good to know nothing has changed.
“Lennox will be assigning lockers to the boys while I do the same for the girls.”
He mouths something at me, but I ignore him, giving my attention to Coach. She explains the mandatory uniform dress code, and by no means would the females be allowed to dress otherwise. The guys are lucky. Their uniforms are long black basketball shorts and a heather gray shirt. The females had black tennis skirts—gag me—and heather gray fitted tees, the school’s emblem on both.
Luckily for me, I don’t care about regulations given by the school. I’m not even dressed in the daily uniform. Most Arcadia kids follow the rules, especially if they’re Lux and have a reputation to uphold. My rep ended up fucked when I got so tanked I made out with half the party-goers and that loser recorded me.
People like me who have zero morals don’t have a reputation to sully. We don’t care. Plus, when your parents are alumni with big wallets, paying out of their ass for special treatment, that’s exactly what you get. Special treatment.
We’re separated, and as the boys leave, the girls are led to the locker rooms. These aren’t communal like the school showers. They’re assigned each year. We’re required to keep a locker and bring our own locks. They don’t have the built-in kind. It’s to give us more privacy. Same drill, different school year.
Coach leaves us to change. I wait until the girls are gone to get into my own clothing. Once they’ve all left, I sneak into a stall and switch my clothes. Picking up my black sports bra from my bag, I switch it for the lacy one. Slipping into my joggers, not wanting to show my tattooed upper thighs that are painted with scars, my skin feels covered enough. Even the ink can’t hide all the damage inflicted to myself. No one gets to see those. My final touch is a long-sleeved crop top that covers my scars there too. A mask within a mask.
After finishing, I put my hair in a ponytail, and with a quick snap of the door, all my shit is locked up. We don’t get to have phones during classes. It’s literally a rule, but they never said we couldn’t have our iPods. I stuff mine in my bra and put my wireless AirPods in, leaving the room as soon as I’m ready.
“We’re doing the timed mile,” Coach explains when everyone’s back in the gym.
Girls groan, and guys whoop. I stare at the field, feeling anything but happy. My moms won’t let me work out, but you’ll be damned to see me listen.
She sets us up with partners, and I’m surprised to see I’m alone.
“Miss Hudson,” she calls while everyone is already dispersing to the track, “since you’re not allowed to exert yourself, you’ll be partnered with my assistant, Lennox.”
Lennox. Lennox. Lennox. Please no.
Anything but that.
I’ll sprint the entire mile. Take track. Donate blood. An organ. I’ll go on the black market and sell my soul.
Anything but putting me with the biggest asshole in this school.
“Coach—”
“Uh, uh, uh. I’ve spoken to your mother. Until your body is well and ready to go any faster than a brisk walk, Lennox will be your partner and assistant.”
“I don’t think—”
She waves a hand, stopping my argument. “Lennox!” she yells.
Mr. President himself dotes on her with a big grin. Behind that big grin, I know what resonates, and it’s anything but pleasant. He’s not what he shows the world. Everyone sees him as this innocent honor roll student. He’s honor roll, all right. Just not innocent. He’s cruel and callous, and his tastes are fucking with and torturing me.
His gait is confident as he makes his way to us. After he hands Coach the clipboard, she fills in me and Lux as partners. This is so fucked. He’s going to terrorize me until I die, and even then, he’ll make sure to stab my corpse a few hundred times for good measure.
I’m so fucked.
“Miss Hudson is to be monitored. She’s not allowed to overdo it.”
He raises a tentative eyebrow, giving away the fact that he didn’t know something he wasn’t meant to be privy to.
“You will time her, and when she’s better, you’ll do a solo run with her and time her again to show progress when she’s been approved for normal activity.” She flips the pages on her clipboard and nods silently while Lux’s gaze digs into the side of my skull. I don’t waver. He can stare all he wants. In no way does that make me responsible to give him any recourse.
“She’s healthy with a four percent BMI. A little low for her age. Must be the—”
“Coach, that’s none of his business. If you want to hear from my lawyers, I’ll be sure to pass this little tidbit along,” I bark.
He isn’t allowed to know that much. Not that I had ketoacidosis, that I can’t eat forcefully, and that I’m below my normal weight because of it.
“You’re right,” she grouses and flattens her lips. She almost divulged information that’s illegal to just toss out there.
Lux’s stare feels more intense on me. My face is hot and sweaty, and I no longer believe he won’t bother me. This will be an astronomical error, and with my luck, I’ll have to beg for a class transfer.