“All you need to know is she deserves everything that’s coming to her,” I assure them.
There’s a staggering silence between us that lasts an uncomfortably long time, but I assume they need to process. We’re not the friendliest pricks on the planet, but we don’t usually turn up the heat on people just for shits and giggles. I know it’s a lot—asking them to unleash hell on someone without explanation—but I hope they know I wouldn’t go to such extremes without good reason.
“All right,” Sterling agrees first, then Dane nods wearily.
“I’m in.”
We’re all turned in her direction, focused solely on our unsuspecting mark. I circle back to the belief that fate brought her here. I have no clue what other messed up shit she’s done in her lifetime, but something becomes crystal clear to me.
The universe wants her to suffer. It must. If that wasn’t the case, it wouldn’t have dropped her in my path again.
This girl’s entire world is about to go dark, and I’m gonna love every second of it.
@QweenPandora: What have we here, lovelies? My sources say North Cypress’s favorite brainy beauty, Josslyn ‘Joss’ Francois, has finally returned from her epic journey. But … has she returned unsullied? Or has the VirginVixen—as I like to call her—finally given up the goods? Some of those IG pics made it quite clear she picked up more in Cuba than that box of cigars she hand-delivered to Headmaster Harrison. Will PrettyBoyD be heartbroken when the truth comes out?
As an aside, let this be a lesson to you all: there’s a reason we must own our feelings, people. Wait too long to speak up and the one you can’t get out of your head could make their way into someone else’s bed. Isn’t that right PrettyBoyD?
Later, Peeps.
—P
Chapter 5
BLUE
I should’ve brought Jules. At least I’d have someone to talk to while I wait.
The lines were brutal, but I made it through quickly enough. Now, I’m forced to wait in the auditorium with everyone else, where we’ve been herded for an assembly.
The entire row beside me is empty, but it’s probably got something to do with sitting in nearly the farthest section from the stage. Still, it shoves the loneliness of being so far out of my element right in my face. An entire year of this, that’s what I have to look forward to. It’ll be pure hell, but I know why I’m doing it.
For Scar.
For me.
For change.
‘Still alive, Preppy?’
I smile at the text from Jules, feeling a little less invisible.
‘Barely. Have to sit through some lame assembly, then home. Thank God.’
The lights dim a little and a middle-aged woman wearing an unseasonably warm plaid blazer over a cream blouse starts across the stage. When she takes the mic, I shoot Jules a quick, ‘Gotta go,’ text and drop the phone down in my purse.
The lady goes over standard issue stuff—a short spiel about how she hopes we all had an enriching summer, something about why they decided to forego uniforms this year, and then a rundown about what clothing articles will and won’t be allowed on campus.
Then, right after that, I blank out.
It’s not that I’ve suddenly gone deaf and blind. It’s because of who I see sliding into my row from the opposite end, like he’s not the most delicious thing any girl has ever laid eyes on.
A backwards baseball cap hides the dark, tousled hair I remember wanting to run my fingers through, but … it’s definitely him. His tatted arms are bare today, from the shoulders down. The wifebeater he wears is most certainly against the dress code the woman just dutifully recited from stage, but I don’t imagine this one fears much of anything or anyone.
A blatantly cocky stride tells me I’m right.
The white, ribbed fabric clings to his pecs, as well as the discernable ridges of solid abs that have me biting my lip. Then, I’m done in by the rest of his godlike features, the towering height, the half-smile revealing perfect, white teeth set behind fleshy lips.
But he’s not smiling at me. I’m not even sure he’s seen me yet. He’s smiling at them, the two he’s conversing with. The two I know must be his brothers, or they’re possibly even triplets, considering they’re all here together at orientation. They’re not identical, but nearly. Each one obviously aware he could have any girl in this world, but somehow giving off a vibe that they don’t care.
Oh, they care.
I’m a fidgeter around boys. Always have been. So, to keep my hands busy when I realize they don’t intend to sit at the other end of the row, but instead close to me, I shove the abundance of paperwork I’ve gathered today inside my purse.
Then, he looks up, and that have-my-babies smile of his casts it’s spell.
For a second, I wonder if he recognizes me from the bonfire, but he can’t. He’s probably had twenty or thirty girls on their backs and/or knees since then.
I’m smiling, but it feels weird, like I’m thinking too much about what my face is doing. He’s still coming this way and I’m starting to think he spotted me before I realized. Actually, I wonder if he spotted me and then decided to approach.
Don’t say anything stupid, Blue. They’re just boys. Yeah, they’re really, really cute boys, but boys, nonetheless.
I tell myself not to look up when he stops and hovers over me, but that would be even more awkward than acknowledging him. So, I take a chance, only to realize I wasn’t anywhere near ready.
He wets his lips and I hold my breath when he speaks.
“Anyone sitting here?” His glance shifts to the seat beside me when he asks, and I try to recover from the shockingly deep voice that left him. It’s smooth and melodic. Perfect for talking girls out of their panties, I imagine.
My throat is so, so dry. “Uh, n—no! It’s just me.”
I sound super eager, which I hate. For that reason, I tone down the smile I offer.
“Cool. Mind if we sit?”
I blink up at him, and then shake my head. “Sure. That’s fine.”
I turn away as all three drop down in the seats beside me. When I do, I’m suddenly aware of all the eyes on us. Even with the lights dim, everyone seems to have taken notice that these three have sought me out.
Great.
Not exactly helping me fly under the radar.
When I turn, I sense the one Jules identified as King Midas staring, and I’m right. He is. His gaze makes its slow trek upward, from where my shoes are propped against the back of the seat in front of me, to where my knees and thighs press toward my chest. Aware of having his attention, I lower both feet to the floor. The sudden movement brings his eyes to mine with a snap—the perfect shade of what Mom calls ‘heartbreaker green’. She coined the term before I was even thought of, but she’s used it often. So often I know it describes irises such a deep green they look like true emeralds.
“I’m West. These are my brothers—Dane and Sterling,” he adds.
“Hey.”
“What’s up?”
I wave after both brothers offer their short greeting, then decide to ask a question I believe I already know the answer to. “So … you’re triplets, right?”