I don’t think all rich people are jerks. It just seems like there’s something in the water here.
I roll my eyes, thinking about the bullshit I’m about to deal with today. First days are always hit or miss at a new school. At my last school, I got into more fights than I could count, but the administration turned a blind eye, basically writing us off as lost causes. However, that didn’t stop me from working my ass off to earn excellent grades. I need those if I’m going to get a scholarship for college and make the money necessary to take care of my family.
For a moment, thoughts about my responsibilities since Dad went missing and Mom decided parenting is overrated weigh me down, threatening to cripple me. The honk of a horn jolts me from the onset of mental paralysis. Inhaling, I shake off my intrusive inner ramblings as I spot an open space close to the entrance of the building.
Score! At least now I don’t have to walk too far.
As I’m about to pull in, I hear the screech of tires as a car comes flying out of nowhere and cuts me off, taking the spot.Asshole.Normally, I might throw my car in park and jump out and raise hell, but I’m trying to fly under the radar this time. I can’t do anything to draw too much attention to our living situation. Until I turn eighteen in six weeks, there’s a possibility of foster care. Hell, even after I turn eighteen, there’s still a possibility. That doesn’t mean I don’t curse out the driver six ways to Sunday while I search for a new spot.
Once I find a spot and pull in, I park and jump out just in time to see the door of a pearl white Benz convertible swing open, and a pair of five-inch Metrolisse thigh-high, leopard-print Louboutin heels are set on the pavement as the driver stands. I love all things fashion, especially shoes. My dream always was to be in fashion, before reality had other plans. So, I’d recognize those bad boys anywhere. “You’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto,” I mumble loud enough that only I can hear.
Holy shit, she’s beautiful. Legs that should be walking a runway lead up to a light denim short skirt that could probably pass as underwear.Can you even call what she’s wearing a skirt?It’s not that I care about what she wears. Hell, she could decide to walk around school naked. I just thought schools have dress codes.
Continuing to head toward the front of the school, I take in the rest of America's Next Top Model. Effervescent skin combined with long, straight black hair that hits the middle of her back falls in soft waves around her face. Her lips look a little too big for the rest of her features, almost as if they don’t belong. Piercing cold crystal blues take me in and find me wanting. To further cement her blatant dismissal, she turns her back on me, heading to a group of gleeful girls.Okay, then.
Approaching the front door, I hear the whispers, “That’s the girl who works at the diner.”
“How the hell is she here? They don’t let just anyone in. How did her family get her in?”
“Yeah, she’s trash. Do you see what she drives?”
Looking in the direction of the voices, I see groups of students outwardly gawking.Ignore them, Riah.
What the hell were they talking about anyway? Who arethey,and why isn’t anyone just let in?
It’s not like this is really a gated community. We didn’t have to do anything to move in. In fact, when the lawyer, I think his name was Mr. Grant or something, came to speak to Mom, he just said a relative of Dad’s left their estate to him. I couldn’t catch all of the details, and Mom was tight-lipped about all of the finer details, saying it was a blessing we could leave the shithole city in which we were living and finally have some stability.So much for stability.If anything, this is the worst she’s been. Disappearing for days at a time, and when she is home, she’s blitzed.
The part that sold me on moving here was Edgewood Academy. It’s not a private school in the traditional sense. There’s no application to get in per se, but you have to live in this district to attend, and everyone in this zip code is Bezos wealthy. This makes the education system here rival some of the top private schools in the world. So, if I can graduate from here, I’m basically a shoo-in at all the Ivies.
I’m nearly to the door when my shoulder is jostled back, causing me to almost lose my footing. I look up to see the girl that almost hit me push past me, scanning her fingerprint at the school’s main entrance. Of course a school that sits over hundreds of acres and rivals any posh private school would have a high-tech security measure in order to gain access. It’s a good thing I had orientation last week, or I would look like an idiot wondering why the sliding doors wouldn’t open. But it’s not the security measures that have my attention at present. It’s the girl who thought it made sense to shoulder-check me.
My nostrils flare, my hands balling into fists and flexing. Before I can leash my anger, I shout, “What the hell?” But she doesn’t even stop. Her group of friends all bump my shoulder, following her lead.
“Hey, I’m talking to you,” I start, elbowing the last girl that tries to push me. I glare in their direction before continuing, “Was that really necessary?”
“Listen, I’m going to chalk this up to you being new and stupid because that's the only reason you’d think it was okay to try and park in my spot or even to try to address me,” she sneers in my direction.
Oh...okay, I take back what I initially said about her being beautiful. Heels is a troll. You can’t have an attitude like a dumpster fire full of shit and be considered beautiful. I can’t stand people like her. The self-entitled spoiled rich kid who thinks the world owes them everything because Daddy pays for it type. Well, if she’s expecting me to be the bend-over-and-take-it type, she’ll learn quickly that you can’t top me from the bottom.
“Look, I'm going to chalk this up to you thinking that because everyone else lets you have your way, that I'm supposed to be scared of you or care that a spot, without your name marked on it, is yours,” I retort.
The crimson rolling up her neck and settling in her cheeks tells me all I need to know. She wasn’t expecting me to talk back. But she has me fucked all the way up if she thinks she can just run her mouth at me. My earlier thoughts about not making any friends seem to be an accurate assessment, especially if everyone in this school cowers to the likes of her.
A crowd forms, and I grit my teeth. The goal was to get in and get out, no drama.Well, it was great while it lasted…all five milliseconds of it.
Heels steps toward me, and she begins to say something when an arm comes around her shoulders and a god amongst mere mortals stands beside her.
Hello there!
I take in the golden, muscular arm attached to the very tall, chiseled body. He towers over Heels and my five-foot-five frame easily. A sharp jawline leads up to high cheekbones, and cold brown-sugar colored eyes stare back at me.
His mussed, dirty-blond hair is loosely styled to give off an effortless appeal One you know takes effort to achieve. It matches his expensive jeans and polo shirt look. He’s definitely got the snobby glare down. But then 'sex on legs' opens his mouth to speak, tanking my attraction faster than the euro…instant nose dive. At least this thirsty bitch knows that douche is not on the menu.
“Sam, is this miscreant bothering you?” the asshole says to the bitchy one whose name is apparently Sam, whom I’ve affectionately named ‘wankstain’ in my head. Also, what teenager says miscreant?What geriatric ward did this tool escape from?
“Wes, babe, she was trying to take my spot then had the nerve to talk back,” she whines in this squeak of a voice, that’s mousey and ungodly annoying.
I'm guessing this is her attempt to sound sultry, but she sounds more like Scuttle fromThe Little Mermaidwhen he tries to singKiss the Girl. I try my best not to let the corners of my lips curl as I chuckle to myself, picturing her goingwah wah wah wah. ‘Captain Save-a-Ho,’ or Wes as she called him, interrupts my mental comedy show just as Sam is about to serve up some major duck face.
