I opened my mouth to tell him it was going to be okay, but how could I guarantee that? I knew how the kids at Ironwood worked. If they sniffed even a drop of weakness or poverty, they’d band together in their little cliques and grind that person into the ground. I knew from first-hand experience.
Closing my mouth, I offered him a nod instead.
He leaned closer, his upper body behind Lana as she bent forward, intently focused on her game. “Your hair looks great, by the way.”
Out of reflex, I touched my curls and smiled. “Th-thank you.”
“So, what kind of hazing am I in for?” He moved to his side of the car but didn’t take his eyes off me.
“Not a very good one,” I said, my voice low. “I hate most of the students. They’re stuck-up little bitches and pumped-up jocks.”
“Oh,” Lana crooned. “I’m telling Mommy you said a bad word, Terri.”
I rolled my eyes. “Do it, and I’ll tell her you downloaded that game again. You know how she hates gore and violence.”
Lana wrinkled her nose. “Fine.” She went back to slaying zombies.
“Well, maybe we’ll have some classes together.” His lips curved into an easy smile, turning his face from sharp contours to something softer, warming his irises to the deep cobalt of an endless ocean.
I resisted an urge to fan my face.If he smiles like that, he’ll have all the girls at Ironwood falling at his feet.
This thought straightened my spine. For some reason, the mental picture of those haughty females pining for him sent a spike of fury through my chest.
Who am I kidding? It’s not like I’ll ever have a chance.Besides, he’s supposed to be my foster brother. Feeling jealous isn’t right.
Still, I couldn’t shake the nausea roiling in my stomach at the idea of him giving that beautiful smile to someone else.
Chapter seven
Paxton Ross
Laughter,shouts,andsilverwareclattered in the bright, airy cafeteria. On the north and south walls, windows rose twenty feet high, brightening the sandstone-colored tiles of the floor and soft beige of the round tables interspersed at even intervals.
Finding an empty seat near the exit, I slid my tray to the surface and sat down to stare at my food.
On the dish sat a thick, steaming slice of meatloaf, mashed potatoes with cream gravy, fresh broccoli, and an enormous slice of cherry pie.
This place feels like a dream.No longer was I the poor kid who’d lived on the free lunch program back in Vinton. When the lunch lady scanned my badge, she’d said my meals had been paid up through the entire school year, then welcomed me as the newest member of Charles Kingston’s family.
I shook my head and forked the meatloaf, letting it sit on my tongue for a moment just to experience the sensation of taste, instead of scarfing it down out of pure hunger. The savory meat held a hint of smoke and spice, not at all like the generic mystery meat at my old school.
I can start over here, become someone different, someone new, someone important. Instead of scraping and scrounging for scraps, I could take the time to figure out what I wanted.
And at that moment, I knew what I wanted: to take the advanced music classes offered here to sharpen my guitar skills. Because ultimately, I wanted to share my music with the world, and hopefully do it well enough to support myself.
For once, I felt like I might have a shot at what had only been a fleeting dream. But now, with the Kingston s’ help, the first faint stirrings of hope circled in my thoughts. If I applied myself, I could escape my father’s shadow and fate, become my own person, shed Paxton Ross’s tragic past and take on a new persona, a rebirth into the world.
Before lunch period, I’d met with the counselor to go over my classes. In addition to advanced music theory and one-on-one training, Ironwood Prep offered advanced sciences, degree programs, chess classes…the choices were mind-bogglingly endless.
“Hi there,” a female voice said, pulling my attention to a tall blonde. The top two buttons of her shirt were undone, exposing cleavage, and her necktie had been pulled to the side. She smiled down at me, her pink lips parting a bit to show perfect white teeth. “Is this seat taken?”
Slowly, I shook my head and finished swallowing my food. “Nope.”
Two more girls fanned out to take empty seats.
“So,” the blonde purred. “You’re Paxton Ross.” She fluttered her lashes at me, then unwrapped her silverware and laid a purple cloth napkin over her lap. “Sorry to hear about your dad.” Her hand slid over mine and she gave it a gentle, lingering pat.
“Th-thanks.” I stared at my food, still not able to quite believe I wouldn’t have to worry about where I’d find supper tonight. I’d hated dumpster diving or snagging discarded meals from outdoor eating areas, but the pain of hunger was a relentless master.
