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Cain laughs. "Technically, Glass's a private residence. And, see, the booze is for our supervisors. We wouldn'tdreamof touching it. At least, not if you ask the faculty."
Unbelievable. I'm too astounded by the level of privilege these guys benefit from. Rules,laws? None of that matters in their world. They bend them to their will.
"Come on. It'll be fun," Cain promises, shooting me his megawatt smile.
"I've seen a dozen teen movies. This scenario doesn't end well for me. Or for you, if whatever you're planning involves pig's blood."
"Why would there be a plan?" Jason puts in.
My answer is immediate."Because I'm not sure you take a shit without planning it."
Cain laughs like he's never heard a better joke, though I'm entirely serious. "She's got you there, man."
Jason's rare smile makes me uncomfortable. I hate how gorgeous he looks. It's unfair that such a terrible, selfish egomaniac can look likethat. "How about a deal? Come, and your exile ends. I'll tell the school you've learned your lesson about sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. Everyone will back off."
Anger rises in my chest. "Fuck all the way off, Alden. The only lesson I've learned is that men like you don't deserve the air you breathe."
I turn on my heel, walking away from the cafeteria. I'm suddenly not hungry anymore. And I'd rather cut a leg off than spend another minute with that asshole.
He treats the world like we're inconsequential pawns, rising and falling at his pleasure. He's right, I'm not depressed. But if I had been, it would have been entirely on his shoulders. Some teenagers harm themselves because of the kind of bullshit he put me through over the last month.
I head to the courtyard. It's raining, so no one else came outside. I commandeer a bench and try to regain my composure with slow, steadying breaths.
I remove my shoes, propping them on the bench, and lie down with my feet up on the armrest. I think I fall asleep despite the rain. One moment I'm alone, eyes closed, trying to calm down. The next, I sit up, startled, feeling Jason's presence before he close in on me.
He's hovering over top of me, holding out a brown paper bag.
"Canyou just leave me alone?" I'm practically moaning.
"No." He sits on the bench, taking my legs and moving them on top of his lap. Then he hands me the bag. "You have to eat."
Now I'm less pissed, I am fairly hungry, but I hate to take anything from him. Maybe I can just head back to the cafeteria. I should have enough time to grab a sandwich.
But whatever's in the bag, it smellsgood.
"It's tacos," he clarifies. "From some small place in town."
My stomach grumbles and I snatch the bag from him. Sure enough, I'm greeted by the familiar aroma of the delicious taco stand I haven't had a chance to go back to since my second week at Cross.
Taking the bus to the dorms take ten minutes—if you can catch it immediately—then another five to walk to the parking lot, and the drive into town takes another five. If you count parking and waiting in line, I don't have time to get out during my lunch hour.
"How the hell did you get that?" I muse.
"I sent my driver out."
Of course he did.
I dig in, both because I'm hungry and because the humongous ass owes me tacos, at the very least.
I moan around the food, savoring the flavor. I've eaten half of it before I come up for air long enough to tell Jason, "I still hate you."
"You don't hate me, Nadia. I see you looking at me like you want a bite." He's certain, not even smug or teasing. Matter-of-fact.
"Of your carotid artery," I snap back, ignoring that my entire face caught fire.
I hate that he sees my greatest shame: the fact that despite everything he's done to me, everything I know about him, part of me is still inexorably attracted to him. I blame hormones. They fucking suck.
"Did the shoes take their toll?" he asks, glancing at my bare feet. "You're not used to heels."
