My backpack is slung over one shoulder, and I shrug it farther up and look at the sign on the wall to make sure I’m going the right way. This school is huge. Ridiculously so. With three tennis courts, its own stables, and an indoor pool for the swim team, it’s out of this world. Something most people will only ever dream about. I should be grateful to be going here, yet all I can think about is the chunk of gold in my jacket pocket and the fact that I’d rather be anywhere but here.
When I look back down, I almost walk into another guy who’s stopped to look at his phone.
“Shit. Sorry, man,” I say, and he turns slowly and looks at me. His gaze moves up and down, almost like he’s checking me out.
“Sam ‘The Machine’ Gunner,” he drawls, giving me a slow smile.
I lift my chin, my game face automatically back on. I didn’t expect anyone here to know me, and I can’t deny it unnerves me that this guy does.
“Who’s asking?” I say with narrowed eyes.
His smile widens, his green eyes sparkling in amusement. “Steady, just a fan.”
I look him up and down, taking in his smart clothes, perfect hair, and freakishly bright green eyes, but it’s his expensive as fuck watch that my eyes focus on and the way he swivels it on his wrist.
“I normally win money for my fans. Can’t see why you’d need the cash,” I reply dryly.
He chuckles darkly. “Funny you should say that. You actually lost me a lot of money.”
My eyes widen, and I can’t help but laugh back. “You bet against me?” I shake my head. “Well, that was your first mistake.”
“And my second?” he replies.
I smirk. “Thinking we were gonna be buddies.” I turn and start to walk away when he slaps a hand on my shoulder.
“Name’s Sebastian,” he says, carrying on like I didn’t just blow him off. I glare when he holds a hand out to me. “Come on, don’t be a prick,” he laughs.
I shake my head at him in shock, then take his hand, giving it a firm shake. “For the record, I’m always a prick,” I retort dryly, and it’s his turn to smirk now.
“You heading to class?” he asks.
“Yeah, Professor Pulliver apparently thinks he can teach me more about business management than I already know.” I shrug. I was already planning on sitting in the back and sleeping through the class.
Maxwell chose my subjects since I continued to put it off just to piss him off. I guess the joke is on me now.
“Ahhh, you unlucky bastard. Professor Pulliver is an asshole!” Sebastian laughs. “Word around campus is he has little dog syndrome.”
“Not that I give a shit, but why are you telling me this?”
Sebastian slings an arm over my shoulders, and though I want to shrug out from under the weight of it, I don’t. He doesn’t seem like he’s trying to be overbearing or assert his authority on me, and despite the fact that something about him freaks me the fuck out, and I sense something a little amiss with him, I decide he’s just a friendly fucking guy. I also like the fact that he came right out and told me he hasn’t even bet on me. It was ballsy. The guy deserves at least five minutes of respect from me for that alone.
“Why? Because I have that sorry son of a bitch too and I’m trying to help you out,” he chuckles. “Come on. He hates tardiness and he’ll make people stay after class to clean if you’re late.”
He lets me go and gestures for me to follow him toward class. Even going so far as to hold the door open for me when we arrive like I’m his bitch. I frown as I pass him, but all he does is chuckle again. I’m starting to wonder if I’ve misjudged him completely when he catches up to me on the steps that lead to our seats. He leans in, and I scowl harder at him.
“I like pussy, Samuel, stop panicking. I wouldn’t want your cock even if you offered it to me.”
He moves past me and sits down before gesturing to the seat next to his. When I don’t move to sit down, he stands up. “Yo, Samuel, I got you a seat,” he bellows, his hands around his mouth to make his words travel further.
He ignores the looks from the other students like he doesn’t give a fuck who’s watching and sits back down, raising an eyebrow at me and smirking. People must have been used to him though, because only a handful turn to look. Even so, my attempt at sliding into the back of the class and sleeping through the lecture is diminishing by the second.
I grumble and start toward him, sitting in the seat he’s saved for me. I turn to him, and he opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off with a scathing look.
“Listen, we’re not buddies, you hear me? I don’t fucking know you, and if I’m honest, I don’t think we’ll be hanging around in the same circles, so don’t get too attached. I know I’m an awesome fucking guy, but you’re going to have to find yourself a new BFF.” I wink and turn to face the front as Professor Pulliver walks in. “Jesus Christ,” I grumble.
Professor Pulliver barely scrapes five foot tall. A thin, wiry man with graying cotton candy hair on his chin and the bushiest eyebrows I’ve ever seen. He looks like a fucking caricature or some shit.
“Attention, students!” he all but screams, his nasally voice traveling all the way to the back of the room. “Eyes front, pens poised, and brains switched on, or you’ll be staying after class.”
