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The next day, I woke up early and slipped on my uniform, tugging uncomfortably at the red tie constricting my neck. I’d forgotten how much I hated the damn thing.
Just like fall semester, the teachers started things off a little slower—lulling us into a false sense of complacency before they slapped us across the face with mountains of homework, probably—and it was an easy morning of reading through syllabi and discussing class expectations.
When fourth period arrived, I couldn’t find Leah, so I went to the dining hall by myself to grab food. It was cool and windy outside, but I figured if I sat somewhere sunny, it wouldn’t be too bad.
The Princes were already there, the four of them sitting at a table near the door, talking in low voices. They looked up as I entered, but I studiously ignored them, grabbing a tray and getting in line to pick up my food. They hadn’t stopped me from actually eating last semester, just hadn’t let me do it inside the lunchroom, and I hoped that hadn’t changed.
As soon as I had my sandwich and drink, I made a beeline toward the door, and I had almost reached it when Mason’s voice called out over the murmur in the room.
“Legs!”
I stopped mid-stride, turning slowly to face them.
Fuck.
All four of the Princes were watching me, and the conversations around the dining hall had died out quickly as people turned toward us, eager to witness the drama unfold.
“Yeah? What?” I shifted my weight uncomfortably.
“What are you doing?” Mason drawled.
I suppressed the urge to snap at him. He had an irritating habit of asking obvious questions that somehow made me look like the asshole when I answered.
“Getting lunch.”
Instead of responding with words, he kicked out a chair at the table he, Finn, Elijah, and Cole sat at then jerked his chin toward it.
I blinked at it, then back up at him.
The implication was clear.
Sit there.
But I didn’t.
My feet stayed planted to the floor, my entire body taut as a piano wire.
He rolled his eyes and cocked an eyebrow, repeating the chin jerk as if to say are you going to make me make you?
Chewing on my lip, I stared at him, well aware that the entire room was now watching our silent exchange.
I could refuse. I could walk right out the door and see if Mister Big Man on Campus would actually get out of his seat to chase me down and physically drag me back.
But I’d already defied them once at the party. If I did it again, who knew what they might do to me? My chest felt tight as I sucked in a breath and walked over, numb legs carrying me toward their table. I set my tray down and slid into the empty seat, bracing for the moment pig’s blood would be dumped on my head, Carrie-style.
But nothing happened.
The whole dining hall seemed to hold its breath for a few heartbeats, but when the Princes simply went back to eating as if nothing were out of the ordinary, everyone eventually turned away.
My sandwich sat untouched as I glanced around the table. They all seemed completely relaxed. Finn’s face had gotten more tan over the break, the highlight in his hair a little lighter, and I assumed he must’ve spent a lot of time in the sun. Cole had a purple mark by his eye—guess the fight club started back up early—and Elijah looked as elegantly handsome as always.
Mason lifted his gaze as I stared at him, and a smile quirked his lips, making him look almost human. “What? You said you wanted to be one of us, Princess. And if you’re one of us, you eat with us.”
He winked at me, a touch of humor flashing in his bright green eyes.
Then he and Elijah fell into a discussion of the lyrics of a band I’d never heard of while Finn and Cole talked about a new surfing spot Finn had discovered over the break.
I sat in silence for several minutes before finally picking up my sandwich and taking a bite, listening to their deep voices around me and wondering whose life I had somehow stumbled into.
