So I was stuck in this hell until June.
The price we pay for a future, I thought with a snort, taking my usual seat at the back of the room.
I preferred to hide and take notes, which was easier back here away from the other students. Of course, that didn’t stop them from harassing me.
With a sigh, I glanced up at the shadow approaching me. “Yes?” I said by way of greeting.
Charlie Anderson smirked, his too-perfect blond hair slicked back to reveal his classically handsome features.
All the girls adored him—the perpetual playboy and best friend to Dash Charming. The duo pretty much ruled the school, their families wealthier than God himself.
“Now is that any way to greet a prince, Cindersoot?” he drawled, propping his hip against my table.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I batted my eyes up at him. “Yes, Your Dickishness? How can I amuse you and your asshole friends today?”
He reached out to tug on one of the blonde strands of hair that had fallen out of my bun. I allowed it simply because I learned years ago that fighting back only earned me worse punishments. A lack of reaction, however, usually made them go away.
But not today.
No, the Royal Dick of Darlington Academy wanted something.
And he would toy with me until he got it.
Students began to enter, his back to them all as he considered my blouse and skirt. “Those look a bit big, Cindersoot.”
“Because they are,” I replied sweetly. “It used to belong to Ryan.” The bitchy princess couldn’t wear an outfit more than five times, despite it being a fucking uniform. And so I often inherited her hand-me-downs. Which would be fine if we had similar proportions. But she was curvy, while I had my mother’s tall, willowy figure.
“A shame,” he drawled. “I’d love to see more of the figure beneath.”
I rolled my eyes. “Sure. How about later tonight?”
His lips curled. “Now you’re speaking my language.”
I matched his grin with one of my own. “Never going to happen, Sir Dickenstein.” I blew him a kiss.
“We both know it would if I actually wanted it to,” he replied, completely unfazed. “But no one wants to touch unwashed goods.” He released my hair and wiped his hand on his pressed pants. “Try showering in the morning. I hear that helps.”
I had showered this morning.
Then my stepmother had assigned me a last-minute task before school, which left me no time to wash up afterward.
Hence the foliage in my hair.
While I adored the autumn colors, I hated the chores that came with it. Because heaven forbid we have leaves in our yard. Why my stepmother bothered to keep all the trees on our property was beyond me. She clearly disliked them and the wildlife they brought into the yard.
He picked a leaf out of my hair and threw it in my face. “You’re filthy.” He tsked. “Pretty sure that goes against the dress code.”
I snorted, eyeing the display of tanned skin at his neckline. “So does not wearing a tie.”
“I put it to a better use,” he murmured, innuendo deep in his tone. “Not that I’d expect you to know anything about it.” He leaned in close. “But maybe I’ll demonstrate on you sometime. Deflowering virgin
s can be fun.”
I canted my head to the side. “You think you could?” I asked, feigning innocence. “Because I could use a good mentor.” I pretended to consider him. “Hmm, no, sorry. Chuckie Cheesy just isn’t my style.”
He narrowed his gaze, his playfulness slipping behind the callous mask I knew so well. “You’re all about the nicknames today, aren’t you, Isabella?”
“Well, when the shoe fits,” I replied, shrugging.