Page 14 of Spin the Damn Bottle

Blasé as ever, he strolls to the table he shares with Cain, Maverick, and Rowan, and takes a seat, while Marie fetches his food tray and hers.

All of a sudden,I feel sick to my stomach. I could hit something. Iwantto punch something so bad. Just hours ago, he had his face between my legs and was calling me his, and now he's parading that bitch around?

Jason stares right at me and has the nerve to smile.

Smile.

My fists tighten around my knife and fork.

"Nadia!" Willow's frowning at me when I turn to her. I don't think it's the first time she’s called my name.

"Sorry, woolgathering. You were saying?"

"Are you going to Italy, Germany, or France?"

I'm confused, before I remember about the cultural travel abroad happening in three months. "Oh yeah, the spring trip, right? None of them." I shrug. "I can't afford it."

I never join the school’s ridiculously expensive excursions. My first year at Cross, they planned a week in Los Angeles for eleven thousand bucks per person. Eleven.

Last year, it was Australia. This year, the seniors are leaving with the language teacher and the cost of the trip is twenty freaking thousand dollars.

I'm sure Uncle Lucius would pay for it if I asked, but he's already so generous, I'd hate to take advantage. Therefore, I didn't even mention it.

Willow winces. "Yeah, I couldn't exactly swing that kind of money either. My scholarship is paying for it."

Elisa whistles. "That's one hell of a scholarship, then. I don't think Sarah Jones or Jeremy Sutton are coming."

Sarah's in my gym class—she's here on an athletic scholarship. I don't know Jeremy, but I've heard the name thrown around—he's the president of the journalism club, among several other equally nerdy occupations.

"My sister's married to a legacy," Willow tells us.

My jaw falls. It's the first I’ve heard about that.Just moments ago, I thought she was a normal person, like me.

Willow's a hard worker, always paying attention to money and I was under the impression she was struggling.

And she could still be, I guess. Just because one of her family members married into money doesn’t mean that she’s rich.

“Seriously?"

"Not one from the East Coast. He's part of the Californian Heritage. He got me into Cross. I mean, the school decided to grant me the scholarship, but he’s the one who made them look at my file in the first place. I'm guessing that's why my package includes an overpriced trip to Paris." She grimaces. "Or maybe he's just paying for it, I don't know. I don't want to know, really, because otherwise I'll have to decline his help…and I really want fresh croissants."

"Damn,” Elisa says. “So, you're a mini-legacy."

She laughs like she's never heard a funnier joke. "Yeah, right. My parents are both in jail and I lived in a trailer until I was fourteen. Absolute legacy material."

I'm fascinated. "How did your sister meet her husband?

"In myhometown, there was a private and a public school. You can guess where we used to go. But one of our friends transferred in her senior year, and started dating a rich guy. They got married right out of high school." She rolls her eyes. "Anyway, my sister and Camden were maid of honor and best man at the wedding three years ago. I wasn't there while they dated—my mother got arrested and I ended up in a foster home around the same time.”

She drones on about what she knows of her sibling’s misadventure, and I'm grateful for the distraction, though I still feel Jason's stare searing into my back.

Despite attempting to focus on Willow, part of my mind stays on Jason and his fucking audacity. I know exactly what he's doing: trying to piss me off, to prove to me that I care.

Shoulders tight, I hang on Willow's every word. I think I say the right things at the right moments. Her sister's relationship seems at least as dramatic as mine, and any other day, I wouldn't have to fake my interest.Today, it’s struggle to stay focused, but I manage.

I follow the group out when we're done eating, and walk to PE with Willow, forcing myself not to spare any thought for Jason fucking Alden.

That, I mostly fail at.