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“Anyway, sorry.” The linebacker speaks up again, drawing my attention back to him.

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it.” I stand a little straighter, shaking my head a little to test it. The world doesn’t spin in my vision, and I breathe a little sigh of relief that I managed to stave off a full-on attack.

“My name’s Elias, by the way.” His grin widens as he holds out his hand like he expects me to shake it. “You? Never seen you around here before—and I always know who the ladies of Hawthorne are.”

“She’s obviously a freshman.” His friend shrugs. He’s still got that disinterested look on his face, but the intense way his gaze is zeroed in on me tells a different story. “I’m Declan.”

Unlike Elias, he doesn’t hold his hand out, just jerks his chin up in a half nod.

“Why is that obvious?” I ask, brow shooting up. Challenging.

Elias laughs. “Spunky. I like that. But don’t take it the wrong way. The only new faces at Hawthorne are first-years. The school doesn’t take on transfers.”

“Why? Does it spoil the elite breeding gene pool the school’s founders are trying to cultivate?”

Elias laughs again; his dimples deepen.

“Nah. Maybe? Probably. But it’d be hard to spoil everyone’s good genes.” He winks at me. “Mine are particularly impressive. So. Where’d you come from?” He cocks his head. “That hair… those gorgeous grey eyes… You a Weston cousin? Or maybe a rebel from the Clairemont family?”

“Avery does have a thing for tattoos. Maybe it’s genetic.” Declan eyes my ink appreciatively.

I can’t help the bemused laugh that falls from my lips. Are these rich guys really standing here contemplating what other ridiculously rich people I may or may not be related to?

“No. Jesus, I’m not a Weston or a Clairemont or a… whatever.” I shake my head, interrupting them as they list increasingly pretentious-sounding surnames. “I don’t even know who any of those people are. I’m one of the new scholarship students. I’m from LA.”

The shift in the two men in front of me is like a lightning strike against a night sky—sudden and ominous. Their voices break off, their features darkening as they stare at me for a moment.

What the fuck?

“You’re one of the new scholarship students?” Elias asks slowly, his dimples nowhere to be seen now.

Well, so much for all that cordiality, all the easy-going charm and high-bred flirting. I expected to be given some shit for being the charity case among the elite, but I’m honestly a little taken aback by how instantaneous and intense the change in them was.

A second ago, they were both looking at me with an appreciative sort of hunger in their eyes.

Now their expressions are completely shuttered, closed off and hard.

At least I don’t care enough to be offended.

“Yeah.” I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m one of the scholarship students. Is that a problem?”

6

Elias blinks, as if my words have startled him out of some private thought. Then he gives a half-smile, although it has nowhere near the wattage of charm his earlier grin held. “Nah, it’s not a problem. It’s just…”

“Unexpected,” Declan finishes when Elias trails off.

“Yeah.” Elias shrugs, shooting a glance at his friend before looking back at me. “Since there are so few of you, we don’t usually meet the scholarship kids so randomly outside of classes…”

Sure. That’s why they both just went from hot to cold like someone flipped a damn switch.

Bull-fucking-shit.

They’re acting weird, and irritation rises inside me—not so much at them as at myself. I actually got taken in by their charm and easy good looks for a second. I let my guard down more than I should have, forgetting lessons I’ve spent years learning the hard way.

There’s a burst of noise and chattering voices as the doors of one of the nearby school buildings bang open. Dozens of students filter out into the warm sunlight, laughing and talking amongst themselves. I know classes won’t start until Monday, but I guess I was wrong to think the campus would be a ghost town until then.

Declan and Elias look in the direction of the noise too, and I take a step back, already turning away from them. A good time to leave, I think. Make my exit and spare myself the early onset of scrutiny that comes with being the charity case. I’ll have to deal with that shit soon enough—no reason to get a head start.

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