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It’s like a high-end restaurant, but for high school kids. Even the staff appear like butlers straight out of the palace.
During the lunch break, RES’s entire student body gathers here. If something happens in this place, it’ll be engraved in everyone’s memories.
It’ll be posted on social media.
It’ll be the talk of the entire school.
Last week, Silver spilt juice on a freshman — she spills beverages a lot — and it became the talk of the week. The incident reached me even though I don’t eat here.
“Relax.” Xander’s cool voice wrenches me from my thoughts. His face is all grins and smiles.
Easy for him to say. He’s a popular star and the son of a minister.
Attention is his middle name. Hell, he might even thrive on it.
I can end all this now, but my need for revenge simmers beneath the surface like an untamed animal.
This time, I’ll be the one who inflicts pain.
Whoa. That’s a scary thought.
I’m not that person. I don’t need to inflict pain. All I need is justice.
Yes. Justice.
With a deep breath, Xander and I walk into the cafeteria. Chatter and utensils clicking fills the air. Some students laugh at one another, others are in heated conversations, and a few loners sit in the back.
My heartbeat increases with every step I take. Beads of sweat cover my temples and a tremor shoots through my limbs.
Once we’re in the centre of the cafeteria, the chit chat withers away and almost everyone’s attention zeroes in on us.
Some jab their friends while others murmur in hushed tones.
Being in the limelight stiffens my shoulder blades.
My heart flips when I make out where Xander is guiding me.
The centre table.
The football team’s table.
The table at which Aiden sits. He’s nodding at something Cole says while nonchalantly moving his fork around his half-full plate.
He’s wearing the team’s blue jacket with the school’s logo. The first few buttons of his shirt are undone, hinting at his tanned skin and hard muscles.
Ronan is half-sitting on his chair, speaking enthusiastically while the rest of the team snickers. All except for Aiden who’s watching with a poker face.
Cole’s laugh falls as he notices us.
His eyes stray from me to Xander and then straight to Aiden. He doesn’t need to alert him, though.
As if having a sixth sense, Aiden pauses picking at his food and lifts his head. His smoky gaze falls on me, and for a second, he appears to be taken aback as if he doesn’t know what I’m doing here.
Then his eyes dart to where I’m clutching Xander by the arm. It’s at a time like this that I wish Aiden had an expressive face.
His poker mask is strapped tight around his features as he drops his fork with a clank and stands.
He calmly, too calmly, wipes his mouth with a napkin before setting it down.
