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Brantley and Bishop begin talking about something in hushed tones. If my observations are correct, Brantley and Bishop seem like the quieter ones. I think Nate likes me, but the other guys, I’m undecided still. Apart from that little talk in the kitchen last night, I don’t have much to go on, but they all make me extremely uncomfortable.
I look to Nate pleadingly. “Can I talk to you?”
His face sobers. “Yeah, come on.” He takes my hand in his as I smile down to Tatum. “Won’t be long.” My eyes drift to Bishop, who’s watching Nate’s fingers lock around my hand. I don’t know why, but I pull out of Nate’s hold. He falters for a second, but when I look back down to Bishop, he’s scowling at me.
What the fuck?
We begin walking out of the cafeteria and toward the front doors, where there are concrete stairs sprawled out to accommodate more than enough people to sit on. Some are eating lunch out here, not many though. They look like the type of people I should be eating with, not Nate and his damn club.
“What’s up?” he asks, once we get outside.
I sigh. “Nothing, I just… really, it’s a little much,” I answer truthfully. “What’s the deal with you guys?” We continue walking down the steps as Nate shoves his hands into his pockets.
“What have you heard?” His eyes remain ahead.
I look to him every two seconds while watching my step. “Well, only from Tatum about some Elite Kings Club?” I quiz him.
He laughs, throwing his head back. “Madi, that club is merely a legend. It’s all fueled by teenage drama queen bullshit.” His laugh is forced and his smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Okay,” I say. “Tell me more about this legend.”
He smirks, pausing his step. “Maybe one day, just… not today.”
“What?” I grin playfully. “Why not today?”
His eyes flick over my shoulder, his face turning serious. He looks back to me. “Not yet, I’ll tell you when I think you can handle it.”
He winks at me before walking past and back toward the doors again. When I turn around to see where his eyes drifted to, I catch the back of Bishop walking back inside. Sighing, I shake my head, wondering when the exact moment was my life had become so damn eventful.
I’M PILING MY HAIR INTO a high ponytail when Nate walks into my room. I rode with him on the way home today, and it wasn’t that bad. After we both battled over the music selection, eventually Nate told me if I touched it again, I would have to walk home. The way he smirked when he told me that had me thinking otherwise though.
“Hey!” I pull my leather jacket over my white tank, opting for skinny jeans and my Chucks to go with it.
He leans against the doorframe, a bag of chips in one hand, again with no shirt on, low-riding jeans, and his cap flipped on backward. He points down to me. “Where’re you going?”
“Hmmm?” I ask, picking up my phone from my bed. “To the mall with Tatum.”
“Tatum, huh?” he teases, sucking the excess flavor off his fingers. “She single?” His sucking halts before he slowly pulls his finger out of his mouth. “Not that the relationship status bothers me.”
I stop him, my hand going up to his chest. “I don’t know. I think so. Are you going to move?” I ask, pointing down the hallway to let me through.
He looks down at me smugly before Chamillionaire’s “Rockstar” starts playing in his pocket. His smile falls as he quickly walks back to his bedroom, closing the door behind himself.
“Everyone is weird at this school,” I mumble under my breath, pulling my door closed. Taking a step forward, I crash into a solid body. Just as solid as Nate’s but… a little bigger.
“Shit,” I mutter, my hand coming up to my forehead. When I drag my eyes up the body, they fall on Brantley. “Nate’s in his room. Sorry,” I apologize again for bumping into him.
His eyes darken, a snarl bringing up the corner of his mouth, which he opens, ready to say something—
“Brantley!” a low growl snaps from behind him. The air suddenly thickens, and when I look behind him, I see Bishop standing there, his eyes glued on the back of Brantley’s head. “Go to Nate’s room.” Brantley narrows his eyes on me again before he continues down the hallway and into the bedroom.
Once the door closes, I huff and look to Bishop. “Who stole his toys?”
Bishop’s eyes stay on Nate’s door, refusing to acknowledge me.
I curse under my breath. “Sorry, hi, I’m Madison.”
His eyes finally drop down to mine. He has really amazing eyes, not only the deep jade army color, but how they’re shaped. And when they look at you? They look through you, as if they’re summoning your soul and calling the reaper.
