“What gave it away?” I joke, waving the folder the secretary gave me in the air.
His eyes lighten at my quip, but he points down at my shoes. “It was actually those. I think you’re the first female student I’ve met who’s had enough sense not to walk around in heels all day.”
My face warms. “Oh.”
This is the second time someone is pointing out that fact. Is it that bazaar?
Tilting his head, he studies me like he is trying to figure me out.
“I like them,” he decides. “They’re different.”
If my cheeks didn’t feel warm before, they do now.
Stepping past him, murmuring something about needing to go, I turn, not having a clue where I am going.
“Forgot to ask, what’s your name, new girl?”
I spin back on my heel. “New girlworks for now.”
His throaty laugh echoes nicely off the lockers of the empty hallway.
eight
Rory
Thelibrary.
The one place I know I can always count on. I need its quiet, peaceful atmosphere more than I need today to be over.
Books are a faithful friend.
Handfuls of students pass me on their way to lunch. I wasn’t told I had to go to the cafeteria during the break, so I decide to come here instead.
With help from the map, I was able to make almost all of my classes, missing the first period because of multiple delays. First Finn ditching me in the middle of nowhere and then the secretary being vindictive.
Overall, I think I am doing well other than not fitting in.
These pompous, privileged students ooze money. It’s practically dripping from their every pore. They know nothing of the real world.
Their parents equipping them with every possible advantage. High school is all but a place to further build relationships with their peers. Someday they will take over their parents’ empires.
We have nothing in common.
I spot the building ahead and feel like I can breathe. It is so close. I can admit that this is one perk I am excited about, after noticing it on the map earlier.
Everything here is over the top extravagant. Money no issue in the world of the elite. I am pretty sure even the doorknobs are made of solid nickel.
The doors push open at the same time my hand reaches out. The person passes me, not looking down, but his name slips from my lips. My mouth recognizing him before my brain has a chance to catch up.
“Eli?” I repeat, louder.
He stops.
The divots in his forehead smooth out as confusion shifts to recognition. He says my name as a question too.
“In the flesh,” I jeer.
His whole face lights up, brightening the longer we stand here.