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His dark glare stabs me with despise—or maybe hatred—as he swallows his words because he stays quiet. John walks away to a table where I recognize the other guy from last night, Ryder, hollering like a hyena.
Although I’m close to stabbing someone, I can still feel proud of not letting them step on me.
In the middle of my anger, I smile.
Chapter Three
By the time I get home, anger is still flowing through my veins. The burning sensation hasn't abandoned my skin, turning my flesh on fire. There's a hot feeling in my cheeks, spreading down to my neck as I clench my jaw. My hands curl into fists when the memories of what happened today float to the front part of my brain.
As much as I want to be pissed at Bree for everything that she said about me, I find that I'm angrier at myself. It was me who screwed up big time.
With every grade that I get in this class, my GPA sinks further down, almost impossible to hold on to it. I'm growing desperate because Ineedto pass chemistry with a good grade like I need the air to breathe. If I don't, I'll have to say goodbye to everything I've built in the past two years. All of my goals and dreams would disappear into thin air.
I have a scholarship that I need to keep. I don't have enough financial aid to pay for Moss University, an important institution on the East Coast. Without the scholarship, I can't afford to be in the lacrosse team, and without that, I can't be here.
Asking Bree if I could copy from her was a jerk move, I admit that. Desperation makes people do crazy shit. I'm a thirsty man stranded in a desert without any source of water nearby. That's how complicated things are for me.
However, never in a thousand years, I would've thought that the only student with a perfect score in the assignment's grade is also the worst in the class. What are the odds of that happening? In what world does something like that happen?
There's no way that it can happen. The chances are slim, one in a million. It's unlikely, which leaves me wondering that maybe shedidfail on purpose, or perhaps she doesn't give a crap about the class.
The memory of the way her hazel eyes were glassy as she vented in the hallway resurfaces, and my stomach swirls. No, Bree wasn't faking how angry and upset she was. She's not that good of an actress. At least she doesn't seem to be one, but how can she be the best and the worst at the same time?
Unless... Unless someone else is responsible for doing her assignments.
A new wave of irritation ripples through me. I stop it before it makes me despise Bree when I shouldn't. Maybe it's hypocritical from her part if she's cheating in the class, but it's none of my business.It shouldn't be.It's none of my concern what she does or doesn't do to pass the class.
Do I envy her resources?Sure.
Am I going to be petty and call her out about it?I'm not a snitch. Besides, after today, I don't think that I want to talk to her ever again.
Reaching for the keys inside my pocket, I open the front door of the apartment. The click of the lock makes me even more annoyed than I was before, if that's possible.
The weight of the test inside my backpack is heavy over my shoulder. I drag my feet inside the flat that I share with two other guys from the team, Ryder Weiss and John Carter.
The place is vast, with a huge and unnecessary amount of space. The decoration is minimalist and straightforward, very bachelor-type. It's full of gray shades and white tones that contrast the black couches and the marble floor. It's the kind of place that you would see in a magazine for rich people.
Truth be told, half of the stuff in this place costs more than what I can afford, like the eighty-inches TV that covers the background wall of the living room or the oversized wooden table that we don't use unless Ryder's parents come to visit. I don't even want to get into details about the room that Ryder keeps locked with many artifacts that I could barely dream of having.
There's no way that I could live here with my own money—or my lack of. If it wasn't for Ryder Weiss' generosity and his rich ass that can afford me living here for free, I couldn't even step into this building.
The truth is that without him, I wouldn't even have a place to live during the semesters. At least one that I could genuinely afford in this city.
This arrangement is a secret that only the Weiss family and I know. Everyone else—for no reason—believes that I'm part of a multimillionaire family that owns half of the state. However, my McKinleys are from a small town in Florida where my dad is a mechanic and my mom a hairstylist.
My parents live in a simple and honorable way, but it's not enough to afford an Ivy League college.
That's why I can't lose the scholarship.
That's why Ineedto pass the chemistry class. It doesn't matter how selfish and asshole that makes me. I would do anything to save my future.
I put my keys back in the pocket of my jeans, and I spot Ryder sitting on the couch watching TV. His blue eyes dart towards me for a split second before going back to the screen. The audio of whatever he's watching is in an unknown language that I can't quite identify, but I don't bother trying to decipher it either.
Ryder is special, almost unique. He's an enigma that I can't understand, nor I try to. It's none of my concern what he does or doesn't.
“You're later than usual,” he comments, his eyes fixed on the screen.
His behavior does not weird me out. Ryder is the only one that cares about the people that live here. If it wasn't for him, Carter and I would've killed each other in the first week we shared the apartment. He's the balance between Carter's darker nature and my aura, probably because Ryder is always dancing between light and dark.
