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I forced myself to leave. Ticking the guy off wouldn’t help my case.
My next class was biology. Each two-person desk was filled up. Sitting alone wasn’t an option, so I veered for the empty stool beside Branlon.
“Luna Sinclair,” one of the Royal girls drew out. “Answer a question for us.”
“No.”
She and her three friends claimed the front two tables. The fourth seat was taken up by Victor.
She plowed on. “What do you call a Dreg who crashes a Royal party, causes a scene, and punches Saylor Burkhardt?”
“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”
“And give it away? No,” she said. “Come on, I’ll give you a hint. It’s the same name for a low-class dirty savage.”
“Hey,” Victor barked. “Cool it, Iris.”
I was so surprised at him defending me, my comeback stuck between my teeth.
“I’m just kidding.” Laughing, Iris rubbed his shoulder, and didn’t pull away. “If she’s going to fit in here, she can’t be so sensitive.”
Victor shrugged her off. My shock compounded as he got up, grabbed my hand, and led me to the back. “Get up.”
Jason and Cory snatched up their stuff and cleared off quick. I squinted at Victor.
“You’re being nice to me so I’ll let you have your three wishes.”
He snorted. “Shut up, Sinclair. What kind of weak-ass bitch would I be if I let people fuck with my fiancée right in front of me?” He motioned for me to sit down. “Shit.”
“What?” I climbed on the stool, setting my bag down.
“Luna, put this on,” he hissed. His jacket draped over my shoulders.
“No, thanks, I’m not cold. And we’re good with the chivalry. Let’s not get carried away.”
He put it back on when I tried to shrug it off. “I’m serious. There’s something on your back.”
“On my back?” I whipped around, straining to see. “What is it?”
“An X. Unless that’s some weird fashion statement, I’m guessing you didn’t mark up a three-hundred-dollar shirt for fun.”
“Four hundred!” I turned my shirt around, eyes widening at the glaring X stained in permanent marker. No wonder people whispered and laughed as I walked by. X marked the Sinclair-Bowden.
The incident in the café roared through my mind. Whoever that was knocked me down on purpose.
“Just wear my jacket,” Victor said. “After class you can run back to the dorm and change.”
“Thanks.”
I hunched in my seat, eyes squeezing shut. The second day of the second week, and it was starting. How long until they tripped me walking down the stairs, stalked me around campus, and made my every waking second a nightmare to match my dreams?
Why are they doing this? Even before I got into it with Saylor at the party, tension started brewing. It can’t just be because I’m a Dreg, because if every Dreg was treated the way they treated Winter, those fuckers would’ve realized they outnumbered the Royals and went Lord of the Flies on their asses a long time ago.
Rejecting a skeezy shit like Owen couldn’t be the true reason the Royals turned everyone against her. And it couldn’t be the reason they were turning on me now. What is wrong with this place? Who did Winter really piss off?
I was in a funk all through class, not paying a lick of attention. I stayed huddled in Victor’s jacket, dizzy on his spicy-sweet cologne and trying not to cry imagining that Winter didn’t even have this much support—someone to tell off a Royal jerk, take her away from the situation, and cover up their mean pranks.
She did have the Rogues. The stray thought whispered behind a door I closed two nights ago.
There were people who tried to help her. The same people who want to help me.
I peeked at the mark on my back. How long before I accepted one hundred against one weren’t good odds?
PROFESSOR ANTHONY WAS in the same spot I left him that morning—reclined at his desk grading papers, except this time we were in his office.
“I didn’t cheat. Don’t know how tapped into student drama professors are, but I’m not well liked around here for being a Dreg, marrying a Royal, and bearing the last name Sinclair. Eva admitted someone dared her to get me in trouble.”
“Is that right?” he asked mildly.
“Yes. I don’t deserve a zero, Professor. I did nothing wrong.”
“Why should I believe you? You’d say the same thing if you did cheat.” He motioned for me to take the seat placed before his desk. I glanced around as I sat, getting a real look.
He wasn’t finished moving in. Boxes of books stacked beside the window, waiting to fill the half-empty bookcases. On the walls, diplomas and awards boasted so many and so loud, you’d almost miss the small frame in the middle, protecting a photo of two young boys. Looking closer, I picked out a young Victor and Adonis. They were adorable cheesing at the camera with their missing teeth.
