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One, two, three bites of salad before I’m reminded I’m not alone.
“So, Scar. Let’s hear your side of the story,” Jagger says, grinning. “What really happened in the showers today?”
Biting back a smile, I take another bite. “Ask Crew. He’ll tell ya.”
“He claims you threw yourself at him and dropped to your knees, begging for his dick in your mouth.”
My upper lip tightens. “Really, Crew? You seriously think anyone would believe that bullshit lie?”
His mouth draws back, and he rolls his shoulders. “What can I say? I’m a catch.”
Laughter spills violently from my vocal chords. “The only time your name and catch go together is when it involves a venereal disease.”
“You should probably shut up before I shut you up with my cock!” Crew seethes.
Jagger laughs along with me while Neo sits there observing me, eyes narrowed, lips pursed.
He’s a lion watching his prey. As if he’s waiting for the opportunity to pounce and tear me to shreds.
Unwilling to dig myself a deeper hole with these guys, I resume eating. Crew has pushed his food away, likely petting his battered ego. Neo has no food, which doesn’t surprise me since he doesn’t eat in front of people. When we were around thirteen at a dinner party, Neo was reaching for a roll and his arm brushed against a bottle of red wine, knocking it over. Sebastian—his dad, and also a pompous asshole—went berserk. Lashed out at Neo in front of everyone, then sent him to his room for the rest of the night. At the time, I felt so bad for him. After that, I noticed he declined to eat at gatherings. I always assumed that’s why, but I could be wrong.
“Might wanna touch up the double bruise on your neck a little better,” Crew says, breaking another delightful moment of tranquility. “I can still see it.”
“Thanks for the advice. Might I offer the same? Your black eye is looking awfully yellow. Oh,” I perk up, “how’s your arm?”
His nostrils flare from across the table. “Bitch.”
I retort, “Asshole.”
“Well, Scar,” this time it’s Neo’s galling voice that hits my ears as he drums his fingers to the table, leaning back in his chair like a king, “you know you’re gonna have to pay for that stunt you pulled earlier today with Crew. We can’t have you making a mockery of The Lawless. What message would that send to the other students?”
A message that it’s okay to stand up for yourself. Now there’s an idea.
“What do you think, guys,” Neo continues, “strip her down and cuff her to the sign in front of Vultures’ Roost? I’m sure the guys in the dorm will have a good time with that?”
“Shut the fuck up!” I blurt out, now glaring at Neo. I lower my fork, not even realizing I was holding it out like a weapon.
Neo’s eyes widen, stunned by my outburst. As if I’m the first person in existence to stand up to him.When I look around the dining hall, I realize everyone is watching me.
I take a deep breath, drop my head again, and resume eating. Just as I shove a forkful of lettuce in my mouth, my plate goes flying out from under me, crashing to the floor.
My eyes close softly, and when I open them, I lock my jaw, slowly turning my head to where Neo is standing over me. “Now what the hell did you do that for?”
His hand slams on the table where my plate once was. “Get up!”
I speak slowly, as if each word is its own sentence. “If…I…don’t?”
He glares at me, the corded vein in his neck thumping. “Oh, you will.”
My eyes travel to his balled fists at his sides. “Fine,” I say, point-blankly, before pushing my chair back. The legs scrape against the marbled floor, likely drawing more attention to our table. When I stand, I cross my arms over my chest and take a stance in front of Neo.
“On your knees,” he barks authoritatively.
“Oh,” I snicker, breaking eye contact with him, “now that I won’t do.”
“I said, on your fucking knees!”
The sound of Crew’s chair, as well as Jagger’s, sliding back grabs my attention. With heavy steps, Crew walks toward us. “I’ll handle her,” he says, bumping his shoulder to Neo’s as he steps in front of him.
