Page 24 of Wicked Elites

Bianca snapped a photo. “And their devastation is immortalized as a meme forever.”

My temperature plummeted, and my stomach turned to ice. “Sebastian?”

“You didn’t tell me you were a scholar.” He stormed out of the dining room.

“Never mind, fatty,” crooned Geraldine.

“Fatty doesn’t encompass the full extent of her pathetic weakness.” Bianca waved her hand over my body. “She’s overweight, but so’s Michelle, who carries it with silent dignity and sticks to her own league. This behemoth has no shame.”

Ashley clapped her hand over her mouth and stifled a laugh.

My hands shook with rage, and every fiber of my being trembled with the urge to lash out, to slap them hard across their arrogant, smug faces. But I couldn’t. Mrs. Benazir wouldn’t take too kindly to one of her scholarship students striking someone who had paid for their place.

Geraldine tapped her chin as though in deep contemplation. “This new scholar has ideas above her station.”

“Very messy.” Bianca shook her head.

“I know.” Geraldine snapped her fingers. “She’s a pigsty.”

Ashley doubled over with laughter.

I could take Sebastian’s rejection, I could take the girls’ insults, but what I couldn’t take was the last remaining member of the Evergreen Family laughing at me as though I deserved this crap.

I grabbed my bag and strode through the dining room toward the double doors to the chuckling of the three girls.

Chapter 6

Hoots of laughter reverberated against my back as I rushed out of the dining room. Out in the hallway, I nearly bumped into Miss Claymore, who slammed Sebastian against the wall with a hissed reprimand.

A vindictive part of me, the one that believed I had been the victim of the pull-a-pig game, roared with triumph. This had to be what Mrs. Benazir had meant when she said they were stamping out bullying.

I reached the door to the stairwell when a male voice asked, “Willow?”

My heart sank. If my life was a fairytale, Sebastian would break away from Miss Claymore, rush after me, and declare that he hadn’t faked his interest as part of a sick game. But the male voice wasn’t the one I wanted to hear.

Cormac jogged up to me. “You know Sebastian Garraway?”

“I met him outside the party.”

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No.” Not until minutes ago, when his gaze turned cold, and he had failed to deny playing the pull-a-pig game. “We just talked.”

He let out a long sigh. “You remind me so much of Corrine.”

“Who?”

“My other half.”

I held Cormac’s gaze, waiting for him to elaborate on his lost love when his lips curled into a smile that froze halfway toward glistening eyes. “I’m a fraternal twin, too.” He dipped his head. “Was.”

“I’m sor—”

“Don’t.” He raised his hand. “If I have to hear that one more time, I’ll explode.”

Cormac opened the door to the stairwell, and we ascended side by side. After last night’s conversation with Sebastian about grief, I wasn’t in the mood to elaborate on what happened at the party. And I didn’t have the heart to ask Cormac what had happened to his twin.

We continued up the stairs in silence, punctuated by the echoing of our steps. After a few moments, Cormac spoke. “She became besotted with the Kings of Brittas Academy, and it was the death of her.”