by Callie Rose
I hated pink—especially that bubblegum pink, Pepto Bismol color that made my car stand out like a sore thumb in a lot full of deep red, sleek black, and metallic gray. Everything about it was too much. The money my grandparents had spent on it could’ve easily paid my rent back home for several years. But I drove it anyway, too unnerved to ask them to return it for something more practical.
Roseland was about thirty minutes away, and we drove with the windows down, letting the ocean air dance in our hair. When we pulled up in a trendy looking part of town, Leah hopped out and just about fell over laughing at my parking job. I slid out of the seat, stepping up to the curb and surveying my extremely crooked car.
Okay, definitely not my best work.
I’d learned to drive our old pickup just so I could run errands for my dad and have a way to get to and from work. Once it broke down, I never had the chance to practice on anything else. Thank God I already had my license.
“Hey, at least we’re alive,” I pointed out as we headed toward a row of luxury boutiques.
“Barely. You cut that guy off like he was one of The Princes and you were out for blood. You can’t murder anyone with that car, you know that, right?”
“Why not?” I tossed my hair and sniffed, doing my best impression of a stuck up princess. “My family can afford it.”
Leah’s eyes went wide before she burst out laughing, and I grinned.
“You sound just like one of those stuck up jerks.” She giggled again, cocking her head at me. “I swear, you’re losing your mind.”
“Yeah.” I grimaced, the lightness of my mood fading. Fuck. I shouldn’t have even joked about the Princes. Now they were in my head again, the last place I wanted any of them to be.
I shook off my worries about what new horrors they’d unleash on Monday as Leah led me into small shop. The clothes inside were understated but fashionable, expensive and luxurious but not gaudy. We browsed for a little while until Leah convinced me to try a few things on. That led to a few more things, and before I knew it, we’d both amassed a decent-sized pile of clothes.
We laughed and talked as we tried things on and showed them off for each other. I learned Leah was an only child and had been in Roseland for only the past three years. Her parents were wealthy by almost anyone’s standards, but in the hierarchy of über-wealthy families in this town, they were practically peasants.
“That’s so fucking weird,” I said, tugging a soft blue t-shirt over my head. It fit like air and hugged my light curves in all the right places.
“Eh. It is what it is.” Her voice floated over from the dressing room next to mine. “I’m used to it by now. And the upside is, it doesn’t come with so much fucking pressure. You’ll find out. I’m sure your grandparents will be on you soon about the family legacy and all that.”
“Yeah… they kind of already have been.”
“See?” Her laugh trilled in the air. “As long as I don’t fuck up my life too bad, my parents don’t really care what I do.”
I guess that’s how Dad was. Except he probably wouldn’t have cared even if I did fuck up my life, unless it somehow affected his.
But it wasn’t necessarily like my grandparents cared more about me than my dad had—or that any of them cared about me much at all.
I had worried during the first few days of school what I’d tell Jacqueline if she called to check up on me, debating whether it was worth mentioning the hell the Princes were putting me through. But I shouldn’t have stressed about it. My grandma had never called. The only communication from her had been a one-sentence text letting me know the car had been delivered.
So… yeah.
Leah made me pick up a pair of oversize sunglasses that she claimed were a necessity in California, and then we lugged our haul to the front. Once the woman behind the counter started to ring everything up though, my mouth went a little dry. I really did love the clothes, but the number displayed on the screen was an amount of money I’d only see after months of hard work and fourteen to sixteen hour days. Here? I could spend it in an afternoon on some pretty clothes and a few accessories.
And I hadn’t lifted a finger to earn it.
Something about it felt wrong. I felt wrong, like one of those slimy rich kids who didn’t know a thing about how the real world worked.
“I need something beachy for tomorrow. I hate everything in my closet right now.” A loud, clear voice rang out as a group of girls pushed into the boutique.
All eyes in the store were drawn to the girl leading the pack, including mine. She tossed her straight blonde hair over her shoulder and pursed her pink lips as she glanced around. Behind her were three other perfectly plastic friends.
“She goes to our school, right?” I asked Leah in an undertone.
Leah stared at me. “Oh my God, Talia! Do you just completely bury your head in the sand? That’s Adena. She’s the head of the Queens. The Princes may be the top guys, but they’re the most powerful girls. You have to have seen them.”
“Yeah, I have.” I was pretty sure they were the ones who’d put trash in my locker, actually. “Adena is always hanging around Mason.”
Leah nodded hard. “They’re on again, off again, but she definitely has her eye on him.”
I stared the girl up and down. What the hell does he see in her?
A strange feeling almost like jealousy twisted in my gut, and I pressed a hand to my stomach, as if I could somehow push it away. What the hell does she see in him?
On second thought, maybe they were perfect for each other. The two Royals could lock themselves up in their fucking ivory tower and die up there, for all I cared.
Adena’s sharp blue gaze landed on me, and she scowled. She jerked her head in my direction, and her clones imitated her body language perfectly.
Seriously, are they actually clones? Or robots?
There was something unnervingly Stepford Wives-ish about all of them, and I found my lip curling in distaste. Maybe Adena saw it, because she stepped forward suddenly, coming to stand right in front of me and eyeing the bags clutched in my hands.
“Who let you out of your trailer park?” She sneered. “Ugh. If they’re going to let Idaho trash shop in this dump, I’ll have to cross it off my list. Seriously, if you can afford it, then there is nothing in this place I want.”
The girls behind her laughed, the sound grating in my ears. But I clenched my teeth, refusing to do or say anything that would make my torture at Oak Park worse.
“Clearly this place has gone downhill, Adena,” a girl with jet-black hair sniffed. Her name was Sable, I thought. “Let’s go to Blue down the street. Maybe it won’t reek of shit in there.”
All of them turned on their heels and flounced out of the store. I stared after them, too irritated to move, until Leah grabbed my elbow.
“They’re such bitches. They’re worse than the Princes, honestly.” Then she shrugged. “Come on, let’s go grab a bite to eat. I need to study eventually, no matter how much I want to procrastinate.”
“Fine. I want something covered in grease. If I eat one more healthy thing, I’m going to die.”
“God, I want to eat like you and stay as thin as you. It’s totally not fair,” she grumbled as she pushed open the door.
I was about to respond when I caught sight of Adena and her posse again. They’d crossed the street and were gathered outside a boutique called Blue, heads bent together as they talked in low voices. As I watched, Adena’s gaze cut to me, and the look on her face was different than it’d been inside the shop.
In front of her friends, her air had been one of theatrical disdain and smug derision.
But the look in her eyes now was harder, sharper.
It was pure fucking hatred.
Chapter 7
Leah and I shopped for a little longer after we ate. I could easily have called it a day, but her relentless cheerfulness kept me going long after I would normally have dropped. After I dragged her into one final store, we headed
back to campus.
If I thought too long about the amount of money I’d just spent, I’d probably barf out the car window. So I didn’t think about it.
And I wasn’t naive enough to imagine having better clothes would make the kids at Oak Park like me better—it was too damn late for that, thanks to the Princes—but maybe it would at least give them one less thing to mock. Assuming I ever went to any social events where students weren’t required to wear the school uniform anyway.
I waved to Maggie and another girl whose name I couldn’t remember as I passed through the common room before heading up to my dorm. Once inside, I dumped everything out on the bed and started hanging it all up in the closet. I saved the best for last, and when I picked up the black leotard and ballet slippers, my heart squeezed so hard it almost hurt.
Running my fingers over the fabric, I felt a sudden rush of gratitude for my grandparents.
These purchases hadn’t been cheap either, but unlike the cute, trendy outfits I’d bought, I knew the exact value of these—and they were worth every fucking penny. My old leotard was stretched and worn, the shoes battered beyond repair. So when I’d seen a specialty dance store nestled among the other fancy boutiques in Roseland, I’d pulled Leah inside like a woman on a mission.
I traced the outline of one of the slippers with my finger. I hadn’t been en pointe in a long time, not since before my legs had been broken four years ago. I was sure it would take a lot of hard training to get back there.
But maybe now I could actually start working toward it.
The rest of the weekend passed way too quickly. I spent most of it holed up in my room, catching up on the massive amounts of homework I’d been behind on all week and breaking in my ballet slippers—a process that non-dancers were usually surprised to learn was so violent.
I felt reasonably sure that I’d gotten them into good shape by the time Monday rolled around, which was good—I had a plan for them.
My second week started off just as bad as my first had left off. The Princes hadn’t somehow forgotten they hated me over the weekend, and the pranks continued, the laughter and taunts continued, making every day feel like a war.
Like true generals, I noticed they didn’t often carry out the attacks themselves, leaving that to lesser peons—probably in case they ever got busted.
Someone left a bag full of dog shit right outside my door one morning, which especially sucked because I’d sort of thought those of us relegated to the Wastelands would stick together. Maggie told me the dorms were actually really easy to sneak into, but it still made me look at everyone in Prentice Hall with a suspicion I hadn’t felt before.
But despite classes kicking my ass and Adena going out of her way to be a bitch to me after our run-in in Roseland, I kept a little flame of hope alive, carrying my shoes with me in my backpack every day.
On Friday, I finally worked up the nerve to approach my PE teacher in sixth period.
“Hey, Mr. Bowen. Can I talk to you for a second?”
The imposing man looked down at me and grunted. I had no idea what a grunt was supposed to mean, but I guessed it meant I could continue. Before I could chicken out, I rushed on.
“I was wondering if I could use the indoor studio space during gym? I know I have to participate, but I figured practicing on my own is as good a use of the time as any. No one’s ever in there, and it’s set up perfectly for dance.”
I’d peeked my head into the room on the second floor several times over the past week. It was always empty, even during my gym period, which I’d had to pretend to be late to just so I could check it out. Oak Park heavily prioritized sports over the arts, and we had a full pool, a gymnasium, a running track, tennis courts, volleyball courts, a basketball court, and a football stadium. Most of the guys spent the period playing volleyball or basketball, and the girls followed so they could watch.
But on the second floor of the athletic building, there was a dance studio. It didn’t appear to have been used much—at least, not for dance. A pile of folded up mats sat in the corner, and a few heavy bags with their chains pooling around them were stashed nearby. But one wall held a bank of mirrors with a barre running across it.
And the best part was, I’d have it all to myself. I wouldn’t have to deal with girls elbowing me out of the way so they could get a better look at the shirtless guys playing sports. And I wouldn’t have to try not to look myself, try to ignore the way my mouth went dry when Mason stripped off his shirt, revealing perfectly cut muscles shining with sweat.
I didn’t want to look. I didn’t want to appreciate the sculpted lines of Elijah’s calves or to let my gaze trace over the dozens of tattoos that decorated Cole’s skin. Elijah had one too—just one, on his back—but I refused to let myself admit I was curious what it was.
I needed a break. A real haven. And that empty room on the second floor was my best chance.
“So, what do you think?” I asked, since Mr. Bowen still hadn’t responded.
He sighed. “Sure. As long as you’re in there practicing, I guess it doesn’t matter. Just keep your nose clean and don’t make me regret it.”
I nodded. “Of course. Thanks!”
Another grunt was my reward as I turned to run off to the studio. Honestly, it seemed like he didn’t really care what I did. I wondered if that extended to all the other students or just me.
Nope. Don’t question it. Don’t jinx it.
After changing quickly in the locker room, I made a beeline for the studio. A smile touched my lips for the first time in days, and butterflies flapped excitedly in my stomach. I found the studio and started to push inside when I heard a sound. I slowly slipped through the door…
And stopped dead.
Over in the darkened corner of the studio, near the pile of abandoned mats, stood Finn and some girl.
He had one hand braced on the wall, his head tipped back and his eyes closed. The girl was on her knees before him, and his other hand fisted her hair as her head bobbed forward and back. His pants were undone, hanging half off his hips, and she had a palm braced on his muscled stomach, pushing his shirt up and out of the way.
My jaw dropped open, and a tiny, shocked breath escaped my lips.
The girl didn’t hear me, but Finn did. His eyelids snapped open, his gaze finding mine immediately. His brown irises glittered in the dim light, and instead of looking embarrassed or ashamed, he tightened his grip on the girl’s hair, thrusting his hips forward to press deeper into her mouth.
A groan left his lips, and heat flooded my body. My panties dampened, my entire lower body throbbing even as my heart slammed so hard in my ribs it felt like they might crack.
What the fuck?
Finn tugged his full lower lip between his teeth as the girl continued to suck him, the wet slurping sounds turning me on and making me feel sick at the same time. His gaze didn’t leave mine, and alongside the heat in his eyes, there was something else. Something that looked almost like a challenge.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him, but my breath was coming too fast. Any second now, the girl would realize they weren’t alone. I groped blindly for the door handle and turned it slowly, and as soon as the opening was wide enough to slip though, I bolted from the room.
Holding it with both hands, I made sure it shut quietly behind me before a shuddery breath fell from my lungs.
What the fuck? What the actual fuck?
It wasn’t like I didn’t know about sex. I’d fooled around with guys before, and some of the girls at my old school were both experienced and extremely loud talkers in the locker room, so I’d picked up more than I’d ever really wanted to know through them.
But that was…
I don’t even know what.
My whole body was still shaking, as if I’d been in some kind of mortal danger in that room, and my panties were slick. What I’d seen had shocked the hell out of me, but my reaction to it had maybe shocked me more.
I swallowed hard, licking s
uddenly dry lips, and backed away down the hall. Once I turned the corner into the intersecting hallway, I leaned against the wall and slid down it until my ass hit the floor. I felt a little like crying for some reason, and every time I closed my eyes, a vivid image of the scene flashed in front of me.
Finn’s hand on the wall.
The look of ecstasy on his face.
The corded muscles of his neck.
The tension in his forearm.
The look on his face when he opened his eyes and saw me.
I clenched my teeth, digging my fingernails into my palms. Goddammit. Why did it have to be Finn? Why did he have to pick that room, of all rooms?
If he and the other three Princes had been dicks to me before, when I truly hadn’t done anything to piss them off, I could only imagine the torture I’d be in for now that I’d walked in on Finn getting blown by some girl.
I’d changed into my leotard in the locker room and thrown a sweatshirt over it, but my bare legs broke out in goosebumps as I sat in the hall for several long minutes. I dug my slippers out of my gym bag, bending and flexing them to calm myself down.
A little while later, I heard the door open down the hall, and I craned my neck to peer cautiously around the corner. The girl—a senior whose name I was pretty sure was Ashley—walked out, adjusting her clothes and hair.
I pulled my head back quickly, and my eyes fell shut with relief as she walked away in the other direction. A few seconds later, the door opened again. I held my breath, waiting for Finn to follow her.
Then someone kicked lightly at my shoes, and I startled, craning my head to look up. Finn was standing over me, his light brown eyes narrowed.
“If you’re smart, you’ll keep your mouth shut about what you just saw. Not that I want to give you too much credit.”
I blinked and nodded. I was probably six inches shorter than him when I was standing up, and having him loom over me while I sat on the ground made me feel tiny and vulnerable. It also brought back uncomfortable memories of what I’d just witnessed, making my body flush again.