Page 3 of You Said I Was Your Favorite

Fury is already bubbling close to the surface, but I swallow it down. Her snappy tone always sets me off. She talks to me like I’m her kid. I don’t need another mother. I already have one and she’s more than enough.

“We’re not having this conversation right now.” I glance around, noting that every single person nearby is watching us, even the shiny-faced freshmen and they shouldn’t have a damn clue who we are. I spot my sister in the near distance with a smirk on her face and when we make eye contact, she slowly shakes her head.

Yeah. Really don’t need her judgment in this moment.

“Why not?” That mock pout Cadence assumes is cute and sexy appears, doing nothing for me. She reaches for my tie, keeping me from escaping her clutches, giving the silk fabric a light tug. “I’ve missed you so much, Archie.”

No one calls me Archie. Not a single soul because I’ve made it well known that I hate the nickname. I’m not particularly fond of my name in general. Archibald, after some dead ancestor who made our family a ton of money at one point about a hundred years ago or so.

Okay fine, I act like I don’t know who I was named for when I do. It was my great-grandfather. My family is big on tradition. Hence the old-fashioned names and the fact that we’re all named after dead relatives.

“Don’t call me that,” I say through clenched teeth.

Cadence’s sly smile is obvious—and annoying. She knows she got to me, though she probably doesn’t realize it’s in a negative way. “Come on, Arch. Don’t be mad. Sit with me inside.”

I don’t shrug her off when she lets go of my tie and curls her arm through mine. We start walking together, heading for the open doors once again.

“I’ll let you finger me if we sit in the back row,” she whispers close to my ear.

A few weeks ago, I might’ve agreed. It wouldn’t be the first time I fingered Cadence somewhere in the auditorium named after yet another one of my dead relatives, but now?

I’m not interested.

“I’m keeping my hands to myself,” I tell her firmly.

“God, you’re no fun.” More pouting but I ignore her.

Once we’re inside, we sit in the senior section, which is right at the front of the stage. No fingering allowed, much to Cadence’s brief disappointment. Brief because it disappears fast when she realizes we’re on complete display for the rest of the student body and we’re finally getting the respect that we’re due.

We’re seniors. We rule the school, and her being attached to a Lancaster means no other senior girl can top her. She’s in charge. Or at least she thinks she is.

And she’s such a power-hungry bitch, I’m sure every senior female is shaking in her loafers at the thought of potentially crossing Cadence. They’re going to avoid her like the plague or kiss her ass for all eternity.

I don’t have the heart to remind her we’re done just yet, so I keep my mouth shut and talk mostly with JJ, who’s sitting in the row directly in front of me, turned around and keeping up a steady stream of conversation while Cadence sends him the occasional glare.

“Can’t he talk to someone else?” Cadence clings to my arm.

“He’s my best friend, so no.” I barely look at her, shooting JJ a quick smile.

“Everyone, please come closer. Don’t sit in the back seats!” Headmaster Matthews is on stage at the podium, yelling at everyone good-naturedly. I hate that schmuck. He gets off on torturing my ass and punishing me every chance he gets. I’m sure he’s going to relish it more than usual since this is his last year with me.

Fucker.

“Come on, don’t be shy,” our headmaster yells, waving his hands in encouragement. I swear I can hear the moans and groans coming from behind me as students reluctantly get out of their seats and shuffle forward, only because he’s forcing them to do so.

Every year at the first day of school assembly, Matthews encourages everyone to sit closer to the stage so it feels more inclusive—his words, not mine. The loser kids who prefer to sit in the back practically drop in the aisles. They’re so distraught over having to sit near us normal people, who have functioning social lives and don’t hole up in their dorms when they’re not in class, too scared to mingle with their actual peers.

This morning, Matthews is more obnoxious than normal, actually sending out staff members to drag everyone closer to the stage. A few teachers and even Matthews’ secretary are corralling all seniors to sit in the appointed section. There are empty seats to the right of me, but not for long. Nope, eventually there’s a string of quiet, mousy girls heading down the narrow aisle, led by the quietest, mousiest one of all.

JJ snickers. “Ooh, new girlfriend alert.”

“More like secret fuck bait,” I return, my gaze drifting down the length of the girl who pisses me off every time I look at her.

Daisy Albright.

She’s not mousy. Not even close. No, she’s actually fucking beautiful and I don’t get why she plays down her looks. Why no one else sees what I see. She’s smart and quiet and shy and gorgeous.

I don’t like her.

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