Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 95950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Air seeps from my lungs until there’s nothing left.
Jasper’s jaw locks and the muscle in his cheek twitches a mad beat as his arm snakes around my shoulders to haul me close. “Really? Who would that be?”
Austin’s gaze flickers to me.
Oh god.
That’s all it takes for the atmosphere to become oppressive as other people turn and stare. The last thing I want is for a fight to erupt. And I certainly don’t want to deal with Jasper frothing at the mouth afterward.
What I can’t figure out is why Austin is deliberately trying to piss him off. It seems shortsighted. Especially when he’s already been suspended once this year. He’s lucky he didn’t get expelled when they got into a fistfight in the hallway the first week of school.
One more infraction and Austin will be tossed out of Hawthorne Prep. It doesn’t matter if one of his ancestors founded the prestigious academy or that his father recently died of a heart attack. In fact, I’m pretty sure Mr. Pembroke, our headmaster, would be delighted to escort Austin off campus one final time.
“Me,” Summer says, settling next to him with her tray in hand. “I want him here.”
Jasper glares but wisely keeps his mouth shut. It’s obvious from the way he smashes his lips into a thin, bloodless line that he wants to take her head off. If the slender, dark-haired girl weren’t dating Kingsley, he’d probably rip her apart with his bare teeth.
No one wants to incur the wrath of Kingsley Rothchild. Not even the teachers. They pretty much give him free rein. He spears a penetrating look in Jasper’s direction, almost daring him to step out of line.
Jasper’s arm tightens around me until it becomes painful. Almost like he’s trying to squeeze all the air from my body. Unable to stand another moment of the suffocating atmosphere, I shoot to my feet. The need to leave before the situation explodes into a mass casualty event thrums through me.
“Where do you think you’re going?” There’s an edge to his voice that’s sharp enough to cut glass.
I blurt the first thing that comes to mind. “I need to talk with my mom.”
When the edges of his lips curl down, a shiver creeps along my spine. “It can’t wait? You need to take care of that right now?”
“Umm, yeah. I forgot to grab the spare set of keys before I left the house this morning. She’s staying after school for a meeting or something.”
He glances at my untouched tray. “You didn’t eat.”
My gaze flickers to the food. “Guess I wasn’t very hungry.” It’s kind of hard to enjoy my meal when there’s a giant pit taking up space at the bottom of my belly.
“After you grab the keys, come back and finish.”
Yeah…that’s not going to happen.
“I don’t think there’ll be enough time.”
As I reach for the tray, Jasper says, “Leave it. That’s what the staff is for.”
There are times when I wonder if he remembers that my mother works at the school or if he’s just being a passive aggressive asshole.
Although, let’s face it…there’s nothing passive about him.
“I don’t mind dumping it in the trash,” I murmur, heat burning the tips of my ears because I know everyone is watching our exchange.
The way Jasper treats people he perceives beneath him is yet another black mark against his character. Unfortunately, it’s one of many. I wasn’t born or raised with servants to wait on me hand and foot. And even if I were, I can’t imagine believing that the status of my bank account somehow makes me a more valuable human.
Unwilling to argue in front of an audience, I swing away, darting from the sun-splashed room. As soon as I rush over the threshold into the large corridor, air escapes from my lungs.
With any hope, I won’t run into him again for the rest of the day.
Once I leave the dining hall, my pace slows, and it takes a couple of minutes to wind my way through the hallways. Much like the cafeteria, there are wooden beams crisscrossing the high ceilings and elaborate chandeliers that hang suspended from the ceiling. More black and white photographs framed in gold strategically line the walls.
When I first stepped foot inside Hawthorne Prep, I was infatuated with the elaborate architectural features. I studied every photo and poured over the yearbooks, learning every detail of the history. I felt fortunate to be one of the chosen few accepted to such a prestigious institution. Someone who gets to walk these halls and sit in on lectures with guest speakers on a variety of interesting topics.
Three years later and the blinders have been ripped away. I’ve been forced to see this place for what it is. There’s an ugly underbelly to Hawthorne Prep that no one talks about.
If I could do it all over again, I’d stay at the local public school. Maybe I wouldn’t get the same top-notch education, but I wouldn’t be made to feel as if I’m a second-class citizen simply because my parents don’t preside over a multi-million-dollar company.