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“Jaxon Smith.” He shakes my hand. “I saw you on the stairwell today.”
I smile, noticing how cute he is close up. “I’m Charlotte Howland. And what’s your icebreaker?”
His long lashes lower, and he smirks with a naughty secret. “I’m covered in ink.” He lowers his voice. “Everyinchof me.”
I giggle idiotically, as if he’s just tickled my barefoot. “Well, I have no ink, but maybe I’ll see all of yours one day.”
It’s harmless flirtation, and he knows it. Jaxon’s warm smile is a winner among all the guys, and he must understand that it’s only for fun. But when he doesn’t stop staring, I return to being wary and look away. Monarch taught me not to be too exposed.
I wonder if he will avoid me, but Asher stops in front of me. We stare silent daggers into each other’s eyes as we shake hands stiffly. If he had any regret, he’d have kept on going with his chin tucked under. My back straightens as I sit up tall. Let’s see how brave he is away from his Monarch minions.
“Hello, Asher,” I speak first. “I’m surprised. You don’t belong here. So, tell me, how did you get in?”
He smirks. Not triumphant, but relieved that I didn’t make an ugly scene. I can’t curse him out in a roomful of people that barely know me. “You haven’t posted in a while,” he says, “Still have your side gig?”
My tone is flat. “I received financial aid. Did you threaten to beat up an admin if you didn’t get in?”
Asher tilts his head. “No, they love sob stories, so they paved my way straight through the gates with plenty of financial aid. Not that exclusive, are they? But neither are you.”
“I had better,” I whisper. My heart still hurts from Asher’s betrayal. When will it become stone cold like his?
“So have I.” His eyes lower, and though I’m hidden under a baggy top, I start to squirm as he pictures what’s underneath. “You’re not the sexiest girl I ever had,” he whispers, “but you’re enthusiastic.”
I scoff, digging my nails into my palm. “You had to use threats to get it.”
Smiling, Asher leans in closer. I can smell the heat off his body and a faint scent that reminds me of burning wood mixed with a hint of musk. “My tactics have changed since I became middle class.”
“In only a summer? I doubt you’ve changed that much.”
“You two are chatting away.” Hudson stands beside us, patting Asher on the back while looking at me. I wonder if he heard us, and I try to act calm, but my face is flushed.
“We know each other,” replies Asher, straightening up.
Hudson’s gaze stays on me. “Really? From where?”
I don’t answer as Asher backs away. Hudson looks from me to him, but neither one of us wants to answer. I stare a thousand miles into space and hope Hudson will drop it.
“Can I have everyone’s attention before you drift away?” Jake stands with his hands up until the room is quiet. “Everyone is invited to a house party at my frat this weekend. Alpha on College Hill—straight out the gates and up the hill to High Street.”
Jake looks right at Wren, and his bright smile is a personal invite. Judging by his expression, we’ll definitely be let in, even if he’s not at the door. Instantly, we claim our status as the four most popular and pretty girls on the floor, and high school starts all over again.
“Are you going to the party?” Asher looks down at me with a sneer on his full lips.
I open my mouth to answer, but Wren responds instead. “Of course we’re going.” She glances over at Jake, who’s watching us. “It sounds like fun. Our first frat party. Well, here at Ivymore.”
Chapter 6
Asher
So far, no one’s guessed that I really don’t belong here. The people who run the school know it, or they wouldn’t have given me financial aid. I was stunned when I got in and shocked when I saw the money they were giving me.
My uncle was shocked too. I can still remember how he shook me by the shoulder, not because he was proud of me, but because he wanted to make me talk. He wanted a confession that I had stolen the money. How do you steal financial aid? It didn’t make sense, and I had to get the counselor, Mr. Watts, to talk to his dumbass.
“I don’t know how he pulled it off, but he did it,” said Mr. Watts.
Trunk shook his head. He’d smack me in the mouth if I called him Uncle Nathan in public. “I don’t want the government coming to my house because he cheated them somehow. I don’t want him bringing trouble to my door.”
“It doesn’t work that way, Mr. Nixon; your son...”
