A warm arm wraps around my shoulders as a body sidles up close to me, forcing my head to snap to the right to see who's touching me this time. Kade?
"I'm back. Let's go grab some coffee. I'm bored."
I look around, somewhat curious if he's mistaken me for someone else. The only things I notice are the numerous pairs of eyes on us.
"Why would you want to get coffee? With me?"
He chuckles at my question while steering me toward his flashy Mercedes that is parked at the curb. Another one of his vehicles. His four-car garage hosts his nice selection.
"It's coffee, Raya. We live together, so we might as well get to know each other. It'll make it less awkward. Coffee is a start."
As we near his vehicle, I decide to capitalize on this rare moment of civility.
"I invited someone to your party. Is that okay?"
He tenses beside me, and his steps catch small lulls, as if I just caught him off guard.
"Care if I ask who?" It's like he's trying to sound casual, but it's forced. Have I just ruined the chance for us to try and get along by inviting someone who is poor like me? Well screw him.
"Her name is Ember. She's not exactly one of your socialite elites, but she was nice-"
"That's fine," he interrupts, sounding truly relaxed now.
Damn, he's moody.
He holds the door for me, and I climb in, refusing to entertain all the eyes on us with a glance. Kade's going to flip the hell out when he finds out that my rumors have now bled onto him. This small window of civility will be slammed shut, and he'll probably even join in on the next heckle-Raya session.
"Don't you work at the coffee place?" he asks, drawing me out of my miserable thoughts.
"I did," I mutter with a scowl.
I cross my arms over my chest and glare at the road ahead.
"O...kay. Anything you'd like to share?"
Should I tell the rich brat I was fired when I could barely reach above my head for three days? The bruises were so severe that it hurt when I tried to stock the cabinets. After two days, Mr. Grady, the owner, decided he didn't have the time to wait
on me to heal. He fired me, using the excuse he needed a full-time employ instead.
"Not really," I mumble, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing I lost my job because of his stupid partiers.
"Do you need a job? My granddad has a-"
"I don't need one right now. I have my monthly scholarship money. It's from my town church. They always pick a senior every year with good grades to give a scholarship, and they pay it in installments. I'll be fine until I can find something." Since I'm not paying rent.
He doesn't say anything. I'm sure he doesn't even know how hard someone has to work to earn a scholarship. I wrote essays, sent test scores, and filled out countless forms while submitting for all the scholarship money I could.
My mom would never have been able to afford college for me, I won't take Dad's money for fear of where he got it, and I didn't qualify for a student loan. My only option was a scholarship. So I spent night after night doing all the legwork while working at the local diner and saving up every penny I could. It wasn't until I got here that I realized how much more the cost of living is. For a smart girl, I made one hell of a stupid mistake.
We turn into the coffee shop, and I sigh in relief when I don't see the owner's car. I'm happy to not have to deal with Mr. Grady.
"You cool?" he asks, stepping out of the car as my eyes scour the lot.
"Yeah."
I hop out, trying not to seem affected, and he waits for me to pass in front of him before he places his hand at the small of my back. What is with people here and touching? Is it so much to ask for everyone to keep their hands to themselves if they don't know me.
I start to comment on it, when he removes his hand and opens the door for me. The second I see a couple sliding out of a booth, I make quick strides to snatch it up. I hate tables. I love the booths.