ran from the station to the front gate, mostly to see how long it took.
Six minutes.
The black wrought-iron gate was open, inviting alumni and current students to enter the magical land of learning. During the school year, there would be guards here because the children of politicians, dignitaries, and executives attended Blackbriar. At pickup, the cul-de-sac would be full of black SUVs and bodyguards collecting the under-sixteen offspring of important people. I followed the paved drive toward the brick building with white trim and matching colonial columns.
Funny that my personal hell could look so charming.
The main building housed the administrative offices, the library, auditorium, and a few freshman classrooms. Green manicured lawns crossed with stone paths led between the various departments, each built in a unique architectural fashion. The athletic complex, also known as the Stinkatorium, was built in what I’d call Greek Revival style, with white stone facing, pillars, and a dome over the swimming pool.
The sheer scale of the campus sometimes made it hard to get to class on time, and it was worse when some jackass had you cornered. Not that the teachers cared why I was late. I stepped through the front door and scanned for changes. Since it was mid-August, the hall was practically empty, apart from a few scared-looking transfer students. I understood that reaction; Blackbriar was intimidating as hell, and it would probably take them a week to remember where all of their classes were located. Most of the buildings had been named after school benefactors, so that made it even harder to keep it all straight.
Student volunteers sold uniforms in the school store, where you could buy all kinds of branded crap: pens, notebooks, folders, jackets, T-shirts, hats, along with the required school garb. I knew my sizes, so I strode in, mostly wanting to get this over with. I froze for a few seconds when I recognized Cameron Dean, currently facing away from me while he fiddled with the stock. The old, awful humiliation washed over me, until I thought I might be sick.
Choke it down. Otherwise you blow your second chance, along with chunks. Stay calm. This could work to your advantage. If he puts the word out on you, it’ll make the first day of school easier.
So I took one breath, two, and thought of Kian. His face sprang to my mind’s eye, steadying me. And it wasn’t the fact that he was hot that bolstered me; it was that he’d liked me before. Or so he’d said.
Cameron had brown hair and sparkling blue eyes, the quintessential all-American guy. He even had a nice smile—with dimples—not that I’d ever seen it before. But the minute I stepped up to the counter, he went into dazzle mode, though he had been dating Brittany King, head queen bee, for almost two years.
“You must be new,” he said.
I shook my head, pushing my list of clothing requirements across the counter toward him. It gave me a ridiculous amount of pleasure to say, “Guess again. I didn’t come to chat with the help. Could you fill my order, please?”
His smile slipped, as if he couldn’t fathom that I hadn’t immediately fallen victim to his charm. “I don’t actually work here. I’m helping the PTA because I’m a nice guy.”
“Too good to make an honest living, huh?” My mouth twisted in a scornful smile. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Do you have a problem with me?” he demanded.
Too far, I cautioned myself.
“Only that I still don’t have my uniforms.” I paused, tilting my head. “Wait, you thought I was serious? Don’t you have a sense of humor?”
I had been listening to people say cruel, unforgivable things my whole life, usually to me, and then playing it off like I was the one with the problem. You gonna cry, Eat-it? Can’t take a joke? Why don’t you do the world a favor and just kill yourself already?
And I almost did. Hateful words had a way of worming beneath the skin, until they became the
Six minutes.
The black wrought-iron gate was open, inviting alumni and current students to enter the magical land of learning. During the school year, there would be guards here because the children of politicians, dignitaries, and executives attended Blackbriar. At pickup, the cul-de-sac would be full of black SUVs and bodyguards collecting the under-sixteen offspring of important people. I followed the paved drive toward the brick building with white trim and matching colonial columns.
Funny that my personal hell could look so charming.
The main building housed the administrative offices, the library, auditorium, and a few freshman classrooms. Green manicured lawns crossed with stone paths led between the various departments, each built in a unique architectural fashion. The athletic complex, also known as the Stinkatorium, was built in what I’d call Greek Revival style, with white stone facing, pillars, and a dome over the swimming pool.
The sheer scale of the campus sometimes made it hard to get to class on time, and it was worse when some jackass had you cornered. Not that the teachers cared why I was late. I stepped through the front door and scanned for changes. Since it was mid-August, the hall was practically empty, apart from a few scared-looking transfer students. I understood that reaction; Blackbriar was intimidating as hell, and it would probably take them a week to remember where all of their classes were located. Most of the buildings had been named after school benefactors, so that made it even harder to keep it all straight.
Student volunteers sold uniforms in the school store, where you could buy all kinds of branded crap: pens, notebooks, folders, jackets, T-shirts, hats, along with the required school garb. I knew my sizes, so I strode in, mostly wanting to get this over with. I froze for a few seconds when I recognized Cameron Dean, currently facing away from me while he fiddled with the stock. The old, awful humiliation washed over me, until I thought I might be sick.
Choke it down. Otherwise you blow your second chance, along with chunks. Stay calm. This could work to your advantage. If he puts the word out on you, it’ll make the first day of school easier.
So I took one breath, two, and thought of Kian. His face sprang to my mind’s eye, steadying me. And it wasn’t the fact that he was hot that bolstered me; it was that he’d liked me before. Or so he’d said.
Cameron had brown hair and sparkling blue eyes, the quintessential all-American guy. He even had a nice smile—with dimples—not that I’d ever seen it before. But the minute I stepped up to the counter, he went into dazzle mode, though he had been dating Brittany King, head queen bee, for almost two years.
“You must be new,” he said.
I shook my head, pushing my list of clothing requirements across the counter toward him. It gave me a ridiculous amount of pleasure to say, “Guess again. I didn’t come to chat with the help. Could you fill my order, please?”
His smile slipped, as if he couldn’t fathom that I hadn’t immediately fallen victim to his charm. “I don’t actually work here. I’m helping the PTA because I’m a nice guy.”
“Too good to make an honest living, huh?” My mouth twisted in a scornful smile. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Do you have a problem with me?” he demanded.
Too far, I cautioned myself.
“Only that I still don’t have my uniforms.” I paused, tilting my head. “Wait, you thought I was serious? Don’t you have a sense of humor?”
I had been listening to people say cruel, unforgivable things my whole life, usually to me, and then playing it off like I was the one with the problem. You gonna cry, Eat-it? Can’t take a joke? Why don’t you do the world a favor and just kill yourself already?
And I almost did. Hateful words had a way of worming beneath the skin, until they became the
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