Trey and Quinn sat with another boy – another King I guessed, judging by his fierce good looks. Our third monarch had rich brown skin, dark hair cropped short, and a smattering of dark stubble along his strong jaw. His aquiline features and arresting eyes – so dark they appeared almost black, reflecting the flickering candlelight – suggested a non-American origin, but I couldn’t place it. His gaze followed me across the room, his face locked in an expression of such fierce hostility a shiver of fear ran down my spine. That guy hadn’t even met me and already he seemed to hate me more than Trey. I hoped I’d never run into him, but I knew that was too much to wish for at this school.
The girls in front of me filed past Trey’s table. As they did, Trey held up a piece of bread. The self-satisfied smirk never left his face. His friends followed suit, holding up their bread and snickering. Then they’d put their bread down again, reach for the butter and jam, and hold them up for each other. Each time a piece of bread was raised, the guys would crack up laughing.
As I moved behind their table, I could see that Trey was using the jam to write a number on his toast. As a cute junior girl with blonde braids and a slightly turned-up nose walked past, he held up his toast so his friends could see the number – an eight.
My cheeks burned. I understood immediately what was going on. They were ranking the girls out of ten. Holding up numbers scratched into their toast like we were swimwear models.
My skin itched. Even though I was covered in the expensive Derleth Academy uniform, I felt completely naked, and not in a good way. Trey saw me staring at him, and he flashed me an evil grin before bending over his toast.
I gulped. I had no choice but to keep walking if I wanted to reach Loretta. There was an empty chair on the end of Trey’s table, but it was next to Courtney, so that wasn’t an option. I just had to go.
I sucked in a breath, held my head high, and walked past their table. Trey’s laughter boomed over the hall, echoed by guys throughout the whole room. My cheeks flushed with heat.
I wasn’t going to dignify his behavior by trying to see my number, but he’d turned it around and shoved it in front of my face so I couldn’t help but see it.
A six.
Part of me was happy they’d given me a six.Trey Bloomberg thinks I’m a six.
How messed up is that?
With his other hand, Trey held up a pickle on his fork, placing it in front of the toast. “That’s the minus sign,” he called to me. “You’re anegative six.You’ve got no chance of scoring in this school, gutter whore. You’d have to pay one of us to fuck you, and we know you don’t have the cash.”
My heart hammered. Laughter rippled around the room. The walls leaned in, moving closer, boxing me in with these horrible people.Don’t cry don’t cry don’t—
Thinking fast, I swiped the bread off his fork and bit into it. “Thanks for the handout,” I muttered with my mouth full as I headed toward my place.
Students gasped. Hundreds of eyes followed me as I slumped down in the seat opposite Loretta and took another bite of the bread. Shocked murmurs passed through the students, but none looked more surprised than Trey Bloomberg. He sat down quickly, snapping his fingers to one of the servers, who rushed to fill his plate with more fresh bread. Quinn was laughing, and the third guy… he looked positivelymurderous.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Loretta mumbled, not looking up from the bowl of soup in front of her.
“Did you see what they’re doing?” I demanded, dunking Trey’s bread into my soup and taking another huge bite. The flavors of the sweet and slightly spicy pumpkin burst in my mouth.Oh wow.I didn't remember the last time I’d ever eaten something so delicious. At home, we usually had ramen noodles or pasta – cheap and filling, but my stomach would growl half an hour later.
“Of course I saw. Just ignore them,” she whispered.
I mopped up more of the soup with the last of Trey’s bread. “I can’t do that. It’s insulting and sexist. We should at least tell a teacher—”
“No!” Loretta’s hand flew out, clamping down over my wrist. “You don’t want to do that.”
“Why not?”
“Those guys’ parents give a lot of money to this school. The teachers will bend over backward to give them exactly what they want.” She pushed her tray away.
“Sometimes, that means literally,” a guy beside us piped up. He leaned over to join the conversation. He had white-blond hair cut into a preppy style, a friendly smile and one of those voices that sounded like he should be in showbiz. I smiled back at him, grateful for the first friendly interaction I’d had since arriving at Derleth Academy. Quinn Delacorte didn’t count.
I picked up the new guy’s innuendo right away. I was my mother’s daughter, after all. “Are you saying one of them is sleeping with a teacher?”
“Ayaz Demir. At least, that’s the rumor. I’m Greg Lambert, by the way.” Greg’s eyes glittered as he indicated the cruel prince sitting between Trey and Quinn. Loretta busied herself with her soup, deliberately ignoring us both.I bet Greg’s wanted someone to gossip with ever since he arrived.I was happy to oblige. Since the Kings had decided they were out to get me, I wanted all the ammunition on them I could get. “Ayaz might not even be the only one. Courtney Haynes has been trying to get into Coach Carter’s gym shorts, but even her considerable charms don’t seem to be working. I suspect he might have eyes for his star lacrosse captain.” He nodded toward Trey.
Of course Trey’s captain of the lacrosse team. According to the brochure, Derleth’s lacrosse team were national champions. The dude really did rule the school. “Are Trey and Courtney an item?” I asked.
“Nope. Courtney’s had an on-again, off-again thing with Quinn Delacorte. Rumor has it that she wants to be serious, but Quinn doesn’t do serious. He’s a manwhore of the first order. See the girl with the jet-black hair and pouty lips next to her? That’s Tillie Fairchild. She’s Trey’s girl. Don’t let her catch you making eyes for Trey, because their parents have been arranging their wedding since they were in diapers.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to be a problem.” I accepted a plate piled high with roast beef, carrots, mashed potatoes, and a dark, rich gravy from a server with downcast eyes. My mouth watered. I remembered my mom making roast beef when I was a kid. For a time there she had a boyfriend, and it was his favorite. But after he left, we never had it since. I figured it was because we were too poor to afford it, but it could also have been the memory of the food was too painful for her. But that wasn’t my pain, and this food was too delicious to turn down. I shoveled mashed potato into my mouth. “Wheeooodetrepparratsberranggggamarr?”
“Manners.” Greg smiled, digging into his own food.
I swallowed. “Sorry. Why would Trey’s parents be arranging his marriage? Are they crazy religious?”
