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“None of your damn business,” I say, my already shitty mood plummeting to ground zero.
“Okay, I get it. You’re on edge. I would be too being in your position. I mean, this is either some shitty prank, or someone really has it in for you, but closing off and being a bitch isn’t going to get you anywhere around here. The guys won’t let you get away with that kind of attitude. You’re making the target on your back even bigger.”
I let out a groan. He’s right, and I freaking hate that he is. “How the hell am I supposed to act then?” I question, eyeing down some dickhead who leers a little too long. “Every fucker I pass is looking at me like I’m his afternoon snack.”
“Just … I don’t know. Play nice.”
“I’m not exactly known for playing nice.”
“Yeah, I’m getting that vibe,” he says with a smirk. “Look, while this school is filled with all sorts of privileged douchebag jocks, there are a handful of good guys.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Milo shrugs his shoulders, looking as though he doesn’t care about the point he’s making enough to actually try to convince me, so he moves right along. “So, Ocean Munroe, who’s your mommy fucking to get you enrolled in here?”
My mouth drops open and I come to a stop in the hallway, grabbing Milo by the scruff of his shirt and demanding his full attention. “Don’t you ever talk about my mom like that.”
Milo laughs and pries my fingers from his shirt. “Chill out, babe. I’m just asking the question that every fucker here is going to assume. Let’s face it, we’ve already worked out that you’re not from around here, but the question of how you got here still lingers. A girl like you only gets places in this world if it comes with favors.”
My eyes narrow to slits as we keep walking. “I resent that.”
“I’m not trying to be offensive,” he clarifies. “It’s just the way things are around here so you can either get on top of the rumors now or let them get out of control. But I can guarantee that by lunch, the whole school is going to be talking and they’re going to go with the version that makes you look like a cheap whore.”
For fuck’s sake.
“Fine,” I groan. “I just moved here from Breakers Flats with my mom. She’s Charles Carringtons new live-in housekeeper. Part of the deal was that he took care of my education, but I assumed he’d just stick me in whatever cheap public schooling system you guys have around here. This whole private school shit isn’t exactly my style.”
When Milo doesn’t respond straight away, I turn my gaze up to meet his only to find him gaping. “Umm … are you okay?”
His brows shoot up. “Girl, you’re living with Colton Carrington?”
I roll my eyes. “Geez, thanks for the reminder.”
He seems to go somewhere far, far away for a slight moment and it’s damn clear that I’m not the only one affected by the startling good looks of Colton Carrington. “Damn,” Milo mutters under his breath. “What I wouldn’t give to be the salami in that guy’s sandwich.”
I scoff out a grunt. “You’re into Colton?” I laugh. “Damn, I know you rich kids are fucked up but surely you have better taste than that.”
Milo’s eyes go wide as his head whips around to me. “Holy fuck, I just said that out loud.”
“Umm … yeah?” I ask as he frantically starts looking around at the students passing by, but while they’re all looking this way, none of them are paying any attention to him, they’re all enthralled by their shiny new toy.
“Fuck. You don’t think anyone heard?” he questions, his voice low. “I’m not exactly out of the closet here.”
“Bullshit,” I laugh. “My gaydar pointed you out from a mile away. How could you still be in the closet?”
His eyes swivel away. “It’s complicated,” he says, his voice taking on a strange, hurt tone. “Around here, being gay isn’t accepted. We’re born to be upstanding citizens of the community and then one day take over our father’s businesses, marry and have children who will then do the same. I go against the grain and not to mention, this is an all-boys school. If even a whisper of my sexual orientation was to get out, I’d have the shit beat out of me every fucking day.”
My mouth drops. “Are you kidding? In this day and age?”
“Yup. These guys are old money. They’re set in their ways. They don’t listen to what the rest of the world is telling them. All that matters is pleasing their grandaddies and hoping they don’t fuck anything up before they’re given access to their trust funds.”
“You speak as though you’re not one of those trust fund babies.”
