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Against my ear, he whispers. “Don’t start things with me, cupcake. I’ll finish them.”
He finally lets go. I turn back to my desk and stuff my books into my bag.
“So, why did Astrella hide you?” Jason asks.
“Fuck you!” My hands are shaking. Sure, I’ve had more original answers, but my brain isn’t working at its best capacity.
Jason Alden kissed me.
“I mean, you could, but I’d still want to know why he hid you afterwards.”
I walk out of the classroom as fast as my feet and my pride can carry me.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I don’t understand anything for the rest of the day. I have no clue whether we played dodgeball or football. My art class might as well have been Calculus for all I retained from it. And as I lie in bed at dinnertime rehashing my English lesson, I don’t understandhim.
I mean, I suppose get the curiosity. As a child, I remember my mother getting ready for so many parties where I had to stay behind, although Lucas was allowed to go. We were the same age, so it didn’t make sense. As I grew older, I got over it. They were my uncle’s parties. He might have to put up with his son, but that didn’t mean that he wanted another kid cramping his style. He was always kind to me, but I still was just his niece, not his daughter.
But if Jason and other children of our age had attended, then indeed, it felt like I’d been purposely excluded. I had a theory for that possibility, too: Lucius was protecting me. Lucas had bodyguards until he was sixteen, and there had been many kidnapping attempts. It wasn’t uncommon for the children of wealthy, powerful families. I bet Jason also had bodyguards outside of Cross. It wasn’t necessary here because the security of this place was insane—there were hundreds of guards patrolling day and night.
My uncle had been careful to avoid being seen in public with me for a long time so that I could have a normal life. I didn’t have bodyguards, or drivers taking me everywhere. If I’d attended Astrella galas, I would have had to. It would have changed my entire way of life. Sure, I attend this fancy school, but outside in the real world, I wait tables, go to concerts with my friends, rollerblade on our local ramp, and paint the occasional graffiti. Lucas, not so much. He has more freedom now that he’s proven he’s capable of taking care of himself, but our childhood was different.
When we went bowling or mini-golfing, Uncle Lucius booked the entire venue and had guards posted at each entrance. Most days, he stayed home, outside of school hours. Lucas naturally rebelled, which led to Lucius shipping him off to Cross and Roses.
The question is, why does Jason care so much?
Frustrated with myself for letting him get into my head, I decide to take a long hot shower. I’m a little more relaxed by the time I get out—and when my stomach reminds me of its existence, I regret missing out on dinner.
I eat a highly unsatisfying breakfast bar from the stash I keep in my desk drawer for the days when I wake up late and hop on my bed again, headphones on.
I’m dozing off to the sound of my audiobook, finally letting go of the stress of the day.
Then I open my mouth to scream. There’s someone in my room—a tall frame in the darkness. Before I manage to get a sound out, a hand covers my mouth. I kick out and grab the wrist in front of me, ready to break it, when the intruder removes my headphones with his free hand.
“It’s me! Jesus, you’re feisty.”
I calm down some—not much—and flip the light on my bedside table on.
Jason.
What thefuckis he doing here in my room, in the middle of the night?
Well, it’s probably not that late, considering I crashed as soon as I got back, but he still shouldn’t be anywhere near my room. We’re not friends. Even if we were friends, it wouldn’t be appropriate. Guys aren’t allowed in girls’ rooms. I’m not blind—or deaf—I know plenty of students trample on that rule, but still.
Heart rate still too rapid, I sit up, bringing my comforter up to my chin. I’m wearing a tank top and tiny PJ shorts that got too small last year.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
He shrugged. “Wouldn’t want you to starve.”
I finally notice he’s holding a paper bag. As he lifts it to my nose, I’m hit with a delicious scent that makes my mouth water. I’d kill for whatever’s in that bag.
“I’m not hungry.”
He laughs as my treacherous stomach betrays me, growling like an angry dog.
Dammit. Terrible timing.
