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I pull the key from the ignition and drum my fingers against the steering wheel thoughtfully, staring out the windshield at the large, posh-looking, red brick building in front of me.
Huh. I still have no idea what game Lincoln was referring to, but maybe there’s a game I should be playing.
Even with the income from the housekeeping position, it’ll take my mom years to pay off what she owes. Maybe I can do more to help with that. These rich kids must get bored. And gambling is a classic way to stave off boredom, especially when you’ve got money to burn.
I just need to find out who plays poker around here, and when.
A little bubble of excitement springs up in my belly at the thought, and I jump out of the car with more pep in my step than I had before. A steady stream of students is walking from the parking lot toward the front of the building, and I fall in with them, blending with the crowd without really becoming part of it. Others around me are talking or joking with their friends or hurrying to catch up to someone, but I just keep my head down and plow forward alone.
My class schedule and locker assignment got emailed to me, so I head down a side hallway toward my first class. Before I reach it though, there’s a sort of… wave in the hallway around me, like a ripple of energy passing through the crowd. When I glance up, I see the cause immediately.
Lincoln and his buddies s
trut down the hall like they’re the goddamn kings of Linwood.
The craziest thing is that a lot of the students seem to agree with them. Other kids, especially underclassmen, scurry to get out of their way, like the four guys might actually trample over them if they don’t move fast enough.
I don’t move though—partly because I’m not really the type to scurry anywhere, and partly because there’s something different about how all four of them look right now, and I’m trying to figure out what it is.
When they come to a stop in front of me, I realize I’m standing in the middle of the hall, effectively blocking their way. Not that they couldn’t go around me if they wanted—but obviously these guys don’t stoop to shit like that.
“Well, well, well. Pool Girl.” The guy with copper-blond hair grins at me. Apparently, they’ve all adopted that nickname for me. Goody. “I guess we should officially welcome you to Linwood Academy.”
“Yeah, I’m fine, tha—” I start to mutter, but before I can finish the sentence, he drapes an arm around my shoulders like we’re old friends and turns to address the gathered students. It’s about ten minutes before first period starts, so unfortunately, the hallway is packed.
“Hey, everyone, shut up and pay attention!” he calls, laughter in his voice. When the conversations around us die out, he continues. “Please welcome Pool Girl. She’s Linc’s new maid, so she’ll spend most of her time on her knees at his house. But she also thought she’d see if her public-schooled ass could hack it here with us at Linwood.”
My face scrunches up in anger, and I start to wriggle out of his grasp, but his arm tightens around me. His smile is wide and cheerful as he gazes around at his subjects.
“Now, you know it’s probably gotta be a big shock coming here all the way from assfuck Arizona. Linc, River, Dax, and I have tried to make her feel welcome, but you all should too.”
A few kids in the crowd laugh, and adrenaline surges through my system. I didn’t buy this guy’s fake-friendly act for a second, but now I’m sure he’s up to some shit.
“So.” He finally releases me, and I spin away. Now I’m stuck between him and his three stupid friends. “I wonder what we could do to make the help feel more at home here?”
“I dunno, Chase,” his brother—Dax, I’m assuming—drawls, an almost identical smile curving his lips. “Maybe give her some shit to clean up?”
Chase grins even wider, lifting his eyebrows as if this is some brilliant idea he hadn’t even thought of.
Fuck this shit. Whatever is about to go down, I’m not here for it.
I turn to slip by Chase—he’s big as fuck and standing right in my way, but at least there’s only one of him on this side of me, not three—but before I can make it more than a couple steps, a loud clanging sound behind me makes me jump. I whirl around just in time to see someone knock over a trash can. The lid comes off, spilling garbage everywhere.
And a second later, all of that trash is being hurled at me. Kids are laughing as wet, soggy paper, fast food wrappers, and empty Starbucks cups are flung at me. I throw my hands up, trying to bat the projectiles away, but I miss most of them. One coffee cup that’s still got the dregs of a caramel macchiato in it hits me square in the chest, and sweet-smelling milk drips down the front of my shirt.
“Hey!” a middle-aged man with glasses steps out of a nearby classroom, frowning at the downed trash can. “What’s going on here? Who did this?”
Wordlessly, as if they all had a damn meeting about this beforehand, the students fade back as a group, leaving me standing front and center with a crushed coffee cup and wad of papers in my hand.
The teacher narrows his eyes. “What’s your name?”
“Harlow Thomas,” I mutter, squeezing the paper cup so hard a few more drops of liquid come out.
“Ah, yes. You’re the new transfer student.” His face hardens. “Ms. Thomas, I’m not sure what your old school was like, but this kind of thing isn’t tolerated at Linwood. I won’t send you to the principal this time, but clean this mess up.”
I open my mouth to argue, even though my back talk will almost certainly earn me a trip to the principal’s office, but before I can say anything, he slips back into his classroom.
This—this is bullshit.
