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I better not lose muscle because of my lack of eating these last few days. Ugh.
The second item in the locker is what makes me squat down to acknowledge its cute presence.
“What do we have here?” I whisper. There’s not a right way to describe how I ask the question.Am I happy? Frightened? Confused?“A bunny plushie.”
A cute pink bunny plushie with bits of red, black, and blue. It looks like a mascot of the sort, especially with how similar it looks to the pin that’s chilling on my tie. As a kid, I got bullied because of my ‘nerdy appearance’ and interest in what the guys loved to mock as stupid comics.
Anime or anything that wasn’t Western was made a laughable subject, so anything cute like this would give Domino and his crew a field day in making fun of me for being a baby.
“It’s cute, though,” I whisper, admiring the details.
High quality, too.
This means someone other than Warren had access to my locker.
They had to have put this after Warren arrived. He wouldn’t have left this toy there otherwise. Hmmm.
It’s clear that whoever is leaving these clues has access to the Ruthless Kings sanctuary and can get information from the school’s encrypted system to obtain my locker combination.
I officially have a stalker.
What an odd realization to have.
It should make me fear the unknown, especially when I don’t know what their intentions are.
Yet, here I am.
Smiling from ear to ear.
“Stalking Bunny,” I whisper and hug the bunny that has contributed to my heightened mood. “I could get used to you.”
The real question is, can he handle the wrath of these Ruthless Kings?
23
I NEVER MISS MY PREY
~GEMINI~
“Prescott! I know those long legs can do better than that! Keep up with the rest of the group!”
The giggles that follow from Coach Hennessy’s scrutiny only make my legs grow heavier with defiance.
I’m coming to realize I hate this class.
Elite Combat Physical Education, ECPE for short.
The class that tortures you for two fucking hours because what else is there to do toward a group of rich heirs than encourage their suffering?
It’s the only class I truly despise right now.
Not because I’m not fit. My endurance alone could beat the majority of these stuck-up cunts and bastards who’ve enjoyed calling me a ‘slow poke’ and ‘spoiled bitch’ for the last few weeks. The reason I hate this class is how ‘important’ it is to prove how good you are in a group setting.
I never understood why people—particularly rich fuckers with nothing else to do but to spend their family’s fortunes—were so obsessed with showing off.
There’s one thing I see no point in doing.
Showing all your cards.
