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I didn’t have better luck with second period, but by third I was starting to get a feel for the building.
Gripping my lunch tray with both hands, I look out over the crowded cafeteria, trying to find a place to sit. Finally spotting an empty round table in the far corner, I cross the room with my eyes trained directly ahead. I’m not a shy person by any means, and I typically make friends pretty easily, but this is a whole new situation for me. Truthfully, I’m just trying to feel my way through it and find some footing.
Sliding down into one of the chairs, I sit my tray in front of me and twist the cap off my water. Laughter from a few feet away draws my attention, and I look to the right to see Zayden sitting on top of the lunch table like he’s some sort of king and the table is his throne. I guess that makes all the people in front of him his loyal subjects. Guessing by how he seems to be the center of everyone’s focus, I might have hit the nail on the head.
He’s leaning forward, elbows on his knees as he surveys the crowd. Oliver and a few others are grouped around him, laughing and talking.
Even though I don’t want to look, I can’t seem to tear my eyes away. The way his messy hair hangs across his forehead. The broadness of his shoulders. The sliver of tanned skin peeking out where his shirt has ridden up in the back. I lick my lips, my mouth suddenly parched.
“Hey there.” I’m pulled out of my trance by a male voice.
I blink as I look up to the stranger.
“Hi,” I stutter, the smirk on his face enough to tell me I’ve been caught staring.
“Are you by chance Rylee?” He plays the name on his lips like he’s trying to figure out if he remembers it correctly. He slides down into the seat across from me without asking if I mind—which I don’t.
“I am.” I survey the guy in one quick sweep. Average height. Average build. Nice smile. Cute dimple. Blonde hair that’s slicked back from his face, giving him a Leonardo DiCaprio vibe. All in all, I’d say he’s pretty good looking. Not as good looking as some people, my eyes dart to Zayden before coming back to the boy sitting in front of me, but still quite handsome.
“My friend Chloe said there was a new girl in her French class today. When I saw you sitting over here all by yourself, I assumed it must be you.” He adjusts in his seat. “I’m Charles, by the way. But most of my friends call me Pierce.”
“Your last name?” I guess.
“Pretty unoriginal, I know. But it started in grade school and sort of stuck.” He shrugs, pulling the top off of his yogurt.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Charles.” I offer him a friendly smile, turning my attention to my food, untouched on the tray in front of me.
“Pierce,” he corrects.
“Right. Pierce.” I nod, my smile spreading.
I didn’t realize how much I needed this. The human interaction. Actually talking to someone who wasn’t either growling at me or glaring at me like they wanted to take my head off in one quick swipe.
“So, I see you’ve noticed Zayden.” He looks to the side and my gaze immediately follows.
God, why does he have to be so good looking?
My stomach knots thinking about the way he treated me this morning. Guess it’s safe to say Oliver has gotten to him. Not that I expected anything different. Well, I didn’t expect him to be quite so hateful, but I certainly never betted on any of Oliver’s friends actually liking me.
“Noticed him, was blown off by him, called him an asshole.” I blow out a breath and turn my gaze back to Pierce.
“Wait, you called Zayden Michaels an asshole?” He snorts out a laugh. “And you’re still sitting here to tell me about it?”
“Am I missing something?” I hit him with a confused look.
“Let’s just say Zayden kind of rules the roost around here. Not many people can talk back to him and get away with it. If it’s not him doing the dirty work, it’s one of his minions. They’re all assholes.” He loosely gestures around the room. “But, you’re still in one piece, so I guess that’s something.”
“I guess,” I halfheartedly agree, picking up a breadsti
ck from my plate before ripping a piece off and popping it into my mouth. I have zero appetite, but considering I haven’t eaten anything since dinner yesterday, I know I need to force a little something down.
“Too bad he’s such a dick. It’s a shame really.” He glances back at Zayden almost longingly.
“You’re gay.” It’s a statement, not a question.
“Bi, actually. I appreciate both sexes equally.” He turns back to me and hits me with a flirty smile.
“You’re charming, I’ll give you that.” I wave my breadstick at him.
