My head swivels around to look at him. Is he insane? Surely he must remember the day we had yesterday. You know, the part where he called me trash and I called him on his bullshit. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?” I laugh, imagining what thrilling conversation we would have while being stuck in a confined space together. Though, conversation is probably taking it a little too far. More like throwing insults back and forth.
“Get in the fucking car, Jade.”
I shake my head. “So you can tell me I’m trash a little more? No thanks, I’ll pass.”
“It’s a twenty-minute walk. You’re going to miss attendance.”
“What do you care?”
“I don’t,” he scoffs. “You can go back to the good for nothing shithole you came from for all I care, but if you don’t show up at school on time, it’s on my ass.”
I stop walking and his car comes to a stop. I narrow my eyes at him as it all becomes clear. “Daddy put you on babysitting duty.”
“Trust me, there’s a big fucking difference between babysitting and making sure the help doesn’t embarrass the Carrington name. Now get the fuck in my car before I make you.”
I throw my hands up and groan before finally deciding he’s right. Not about embarrassing his precious family reputation but about being late for the first day. It’s not a good look, and mom will kill me if she learns I was late.
I stalk around to the passenger side and do my best not to drool over his car. It’s always been my dream car, a dream that will never come true, but now knowing that this douchebag owns one, it’s suddenly less appealing. That is until the beautiful scissor door pops open and raises high above my head.
Holy fuck.
My hands shake. I’m about to sit in a 4.5 million dollar car. Only eight of these were put into production, and there’s one right here in front of my eyes.
Are my shoes clean? Did I sit in anything? Should I throw my coffee away?
Come to think of it, what kind of psychopath allows their eighteen-year-old son to drive such an expensive car? I’m not surprised that he owns it, but surely it would be sitting up in some sort of fancy showroom with laser beams protecting it. I guess when you have the kind of money these guys have, not even a rare car is enough for them to use restraint.
I get into the car and realize that I’m holding my breath. What is wrong with me? Hell, my eyes are brimming with unshed tears of happiness. I need to get myself under control before I give Colton any more ammunition to use against me.
I place my bag down on my lap, not wanting it to dirty the floor of the car and then reach for my seatbelt, assuming that Colton is a shitty, reckless driver.
The door closes automatically and I think I come a little while studying the black interior and the orange trim that flows throughout the whole car.
It’s simply stunning.
My seatbelt has hardly clicked into place before Colton hits the gas and I feel my soul leave my body. The engine rumbles through the car and I feel it beneath my seat, doing all sorts of yummy things. Is it wrong to be so turned on right now?
I adjust myself in my seat and don’t miss the way Colton’s lips curve into a slight smirk. That smirk is enough to have me twisting myself so I’m mostly facing out the window, not wanting his presence in the driver’s seat to ruin this joyride for me.
Apart from the sound of the engine, there’s absolute silence. No shitty conversation, no insults, no comments about me being the help. Nothing, and for once I’m actually happy to be here. I have no doubt that could change in only a matter of seconds.
Colton drives like some kind of professional. He’s fast, smooth, and effortless and I hate myself for being so attracted to it. In fact, it makes me hate him more. What is it about the way that men handle cars that’s so damn attractive?
He pulls up out the front of the school and it takes me all of two seconds to notice that something isn’t right.
“Wait,” I say, realizing that Colton isn’t making a move to cut the engine and get out. Shouldn’t he have stopped in some kind of underground, guarded student parking lot for rich kids? “This is wrong … all those girls. They're not in the same uniform.”
“I can see that,” he says, watching the girls pour in through the front gates and looking somewhat confused.
“Where are all the guys? It’s just chicks.”
“Because it’s a girls' school. You didn’t know that?”
“How would I have known that? I don’t exactly spend my days googling schools. Why do I have a different uniform? I’m going to look like a fucking idiot.”
“You don’t need a uniform to do that, Jade. You’re already there.”
“Fuck you, Carrington,” I say, looking back at him, only as I do, my eyes scan over the massive sign stating that this is Bellevue Springs Private School. “You brought me to the wrong school, dickwad. I’m enrolled at BSA.”
Colton’s face scrunches up and his eyes flick down to my uniform as if finally realizing that it matches his. “Bullshit. Dad did not enroll you at my school.”
I roll my eyes and look back out the window. “Apparently, he did.”
“Suit yourself,” Colton groans before hitting the gas and leaving Bellevue Springs Private in our dust. He flies down the road and within the space of sixty seconds, he pulls into the parking lot of BSA.
Damn. We’re here.
The parking lot is filled to the brim with Aston Martins, Ferraris, and Lamborghinis, though none quite with a price tag to compare against the Veneno’s. These are the kind of cars you’d expect to see in a Fast and Furious movie, locked up in an Abu Dhabi penthouse. My dad was a car guy and taught me everything he knew. It was his dream to be able to have cars like this and because of that, the dream rubbed off on me.
This parking lot is as close to heaven as me or my dad would ever have gotten.
Colton parks in a designated spot right near the front and I roll my eyes. I wouldn't be surprised if he’s the shining star here. He probably has all his teachers in his back pocket. All the girls probably drool over him and the guys, I bet they all want to be his best friend. It’s amazing what being the son of a billionaire can do for you.
Colton gets out and starts making his way up to the front gates of Bellevue Springs Academy while I peel myself out of his car. The second my feet hit the ground, the scissor doors start moving back into place and I have to give it to the guy, at least he waited until I was out to start closing the doors.
I hear the subtle beep of the car locking and with no other choice, I start making my way up to the school, following miles behind Colton glaring at his back. The least he could do is walk with me to the front gates and point out the student office so I don’t have to aimlessly wander around making an ass of myself.
My stomach starts swirling with nerves.
I hate this.
I don’t want to be the new girl. I want to fit straight in, endure my classes, and get my ass back home. Preferably to the pool house.
I reach the gates and despite the school not starting yet, there aren’t any students lingering around, only the ones who are just arriving. They all must hang out somewhere together. Maybe inside by their lockers or in the cafeteria. At my old school, everyone would loiter around the front of the school, not bothering to walk through the gates until the very last moment. Though I have to admit, not walking through a metal detector first thing in the morning is kind of nice.
I walk under the massive archway that has ‘Bellevue Springs Academy’ in massive gold-plated, metal letters and the school crest on either side. I find myself studying it. It's kind of cool for a school crest. You know, it’s got all the usual things but instead of the usual letters or school motto in the center, it’s a lion who looks scary as fuck. Not to mention the crown on top kind of gives it a badass feeling.
Maybe I’ll like this school after all. I can get down with a bit of badass.
Colton disappears up ahead and I realize that I'm left to naviga
te this massive school on my own. I keep walking straight, hoping I’m going in somewhat of the right direction. A student starts coming my way, dressed perfectly in his uniform, complete with his blazer and looking like the arrogant fuck that I’m assuming this school is littered with.
As he gets closer, his brows pull down and I roll my eyes. No doubt this is the look I’ll be getting all day. It’s the new girl look, the one where they assume they can work me out in a matter of seconds, the one where he’s racking his brain trying to recall what inner circles he might know me from. It’s the one where he assumes he’s superior and silently reminding me that I don’t belong.
“Excuse me,” I say before he passes.
The guy stops and I have no doubt that it’s the manners that his parents would have hammered into him that pulls him up. “Yes?” he questions, his eyes cold and irritated to be disturbed.
“Could you point me toward the student office.”
“Student?” he questions with a grunt that puts me on edge. “Don’t you think you’re in the wrong place?”
My impatience gets the best of me and I reel in my hands that are getting twitchy by my sides. “Can you tell me where the student office is or not?”
The guy chuckles to himself and shrugs his shoulders before pointing back from where he just came. “Third door on the left.”
With that, he’s gone.
I start making my way down to the office and make quick work of introducing myself to the woman behind the counter. I hand over my documents that Charles had made sure I filled out last night and after quickly scanning through them, she puts a big red stamp at the top and staples them together.
“Here’s your school handbook. You are to read that and memorize the school code. You will be asked at random to recite the code and there will be consequences for students who fail to do so,” she says, sliding a handbook across the counter with the letters BSA printed on the front of the expensive leather. “Your class schedule is inside with a map of the school. Now, I’ll let Milo take it from here.”
Milo? Who the fuck is Milo? Did I miss something? I swear, I was listening the whole time.
“Milo,” the woman calls out. “New student orientation, please. A full tour of the school grounds and directions to morning classes.”
“Got it,” comes a voice from behind her.
A student appears from behind her and she hands him over all of my paperwork. He scans over it as he starts striding toward me and I can't help but notice his impeccable manicure. I wonder if he bats for the other team?
Milo steps out from behind the counter. “Hey, man, I’m … FUCK.” His eyes bug out of his face. “You’re a chick.”
The fuck? Surely he’s seen the opposite sex before. What’s his deal? My brows furrow in confusion as I watch him take me in. “Congratulations. You’re a dude.”
“I … ummm. I’m sorry. It’s just … you can understand my confusion, right?”
I glance back at the woman behind the counter but apparently she couldn’t give two shits about helping out my confusion as she dives back into her work. I look back up at Milo. “Help me out here. What’s going on?”
“You realize where you are, right? Bellevue Springs Academy.”
“Yeah … so?”
“Bellevue Springs Academy for boys.”
What the fuck? My eyes drop down to my uniform, remembering just how different it was from the girls at Bellevue Springs Private earlier this morning. This isn’t a mistake.
Charles fucking Carrington enrolled me in an all-boys school.
Fucking perfect.
Chapter 6
Eyes track my every movement as I silently wish for the ground to open up and swallow me whole. This is fucking insane. What kind of arrogant asshat enrolls a girl into a boys school? But on top of that, what kind of dean accepts the request, especially when the chicks school is just a thirty-second drive down the road?
I’ve never been so humiliated. No wonder that guy was giving me a weird look this morning. There I was, assuming that he was thinking he was superior or wondering what my pussy tastes like when in reality, he was probably wondering what the fuck I was doing walking the corridors of his all-boys school in the same fucking uniform.
Damn it. I can only imagine what kind of bullshit is going to come from this. I knew it wasn’t as simple as being enrolled in school and being sent off for a good day. There’s always more to the story when you’re an arrogant billionaire with strings to pull.
I was played like a fucking puppet. Not even a heads up about the humiliation I was about to walk into. I can only imagine what kind of torture I’m going to get from the guys here. On the plus side, at least I won’t have to deal with the girls’ bitchiness every day.
The only positive that’s come out of this so far is seeing that look on Colton’s face this morning when I told him what school I was enrolled at. I didn’t understand his confusion and frustration at the time but now I do, and just knowing how my being here is going to grate on his nerves everyday kind of makes it worth it.
What is with my sick need to get under his skin? I only met the turd yesterday morning and already my desire to make his life a living hell is quickly taking over my mind.
I try to put the thought to the back of my mind. After all, I’m about to walk into the lion’s den. Did Charles not even consider what this place is going to be like for a girl? Especially a girl like me? A girl who isn’t even close to being on the same level as these guys. I mean, come on! I know I talk a big game, but when there are hundreds of rich boys all staring down at me, picturing me naked on my knees in a dirty supply closet, things couldn’t possibly go well.
“So, what’s your deal?” Milo asks me as he starts leading me through the school, taking me on the tour that I’d rather not be on, especially considering the way everyone is gawking at me. It’s as though they’ve never seen a chick before. I feel like I need a sign above my head in flashing lights stating ‘Yes, I am a chick, and yes, that means I have tits and a pussy under this uniform. Now that you’re certain, QUIT FUCKING STARING!’
“I don’t have a deal,” I tell him, keeping my eyes forward and scanning over all the bodies I pass, taking a mental note of who I think is going to be a problem. For the record, I haven’t found too many yet. There are a few guys mentally undressing me, a few curious glances, but so far none who look like they’re about to organize a gang bang and not let me in on the secret until it’s already too late. What would it matter though, these guys are the type to just pay off some fancy lawyer and make it all go away.
I’m in big fucking trouble here.
All I can hope for is that these guys party with the girls down the road as much as they physically can. I’m hoping those chicks are as slutty as they come and help these guys get their rocks off as often as possible. The last thing I need is unwanted sexual attention from these dimwits. It’s hard enough trying to keep Nic at bay, let alone a whole school of horny dudes.
I wonder how Nic is going to feel about this? No doubt he’s going to text me this afternoon wanting to know how it went at my new fancy private school. This is going to make his blood boil. I can only imagine how it’s going to go down and it’s not going to be pretty.
Milo scoffs beside me and I remember that he’s in the middle of trying to start a conversation. “No offense girl, but you definitely have a deal. Your nails look like they haven’t been seen to in months, your hair is in need of some good loving, your tan actually looks real, and you reek of poverty. You’re not from around here and there’s no way you could possibly afford the fees for this school. You have a deal and it’s a big one, so spill. What’s going on?”
“None of your damn business,” I say, my already shitty mood plummeting to ground zero.
“Okay, I get it. You’re on edge. I would be too being in your position. I mean, this is either some shitty prank, or someone really has it in for you, but closing off and being a bitch isn’t going to get you a
nywhere around here. The guys won’t let you get away with that kind of attitude. You’re making the target on your back even bigger.”
I let out a groan. He’s right, and I freaking hate that he is. “How the hell am I supposed to act then?” I question, eyeing down some dickhead who leers a little too long. “Every fucker I pass is looking at me like I’m his afternoon snack.”
“Just … I don’t know. Play nice.”
“I’m not exactly known for playing nice.”
“Yeah, I’m getting that vibe,” he says with a smirk. “Look, while this school is filled with all sorts of privileged douchebag jocks, there are a handful of good guys.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Milo shrugs his shoulders, looking as though he doesn’t care about the point he’s making enough to actually try to convince me, so he moves right along. “So, Ocean Munroe, who’s your mommy fucking to get you enrolled in here?”
My mouth drops open and I come to a stop in the hallway, grabbing Milo by the scruff of his shirt and demanding his full attention. “Don’t you ever talk about my mom like that.”
Milo laughs and pries my fingers from his shirt. “Chill out, babe. I’m just asking the question that every fucker here is going to assume. Let’s face it, we’ve already worked out that you’re not from around here, but the question of how you got here still lingers. A girl like you only gets places in this world if it comes with favors.”
My eyes narrow to slits as we keep walking. “I resent that.”
“I’m not trying to be offensive,” he clarifies. “It’s just the way things are around here so you can either get on top of the rumors now or let them get out of control. But I can guarantee that by lunch, the whole school is going to be talking and they’re going to go with the version that makes you look like a cheap whore.”
For fuck’s sake.
“Fine,” I groan. “I just moved here from Breakers Flats with my mom. She’s Charles Carringtons new live-in housekeeper. Part of the deal was that he took care of my education, but I assumed he’d just stick me in whatever cheap public schooling system you guys have around here. This whole private school shit isn’t exactly my style.”
Tough Sh*t: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Rejects Paradise Book 1) Page 6