Court Kept (Court High 3) - Page 7

The old man in a billed hat frowned. “Are you sure? I could take you.”

I was damn sure, keeping that smile wide when I denied him again. Where I planned to go to work out this shit with Ramses would definitely shoot some questions out of my dad, and as of lately, he or my aunt Celeste hadn’t butted their noses into my life. I think they were both scared to, scared I’d run again or do something crazy. Because of that, they’d both been leaving me alone, and I wasn’t about to test the waters with that now.

I left Hubert at the doors of Windsor Prep after more assurances I didn’t even believe. No, I wasn’t sure I’d be okay, and I most definitely wasn’t fine. My friend was out there most likely on a mission by himself, and I wasn’t sure I had any power regarding the fallout. Ramses could be anywhere and doing anything.

Ramses may not have any time at all.

I kept myself together when I actually found my friends, the basketball girls crowded around Birdie Arnold’s locker. Shakira and Kiki where there too, the girls all looking like the cover of Shape magazine, Olympian edition. They were gorgeous. They were tall, and even though I definitely didn’t fit into their ranks with my lack of athletic ability, they chose to overlook that and hang out with me. I was grateful for that now, all the girls in the group brightening up when they saw me.

Birdie threw a long arm around me, her ponytail big, brown, and curly. “Hey, friend. You decided to come out with us after all?”

I didn’t, and where I actually wanted to go made all the girls in the circle do a double take. They quite literally stared at each other a long time while I waited for them to get over the initial reaction. People were probably crazy to go out to Windsor House if they weren’t Court, and I probably was. I had a bone to pick.

And I was going to make sure Royal Prinze fucking heard me.

Four

Royal

A knock pounded on my door, and the bottle of bourbon left my fingers. It hit the carpet with a soft thud, and I groaned, pressing palms to my eyes.

What the fuck?

The knock reverberated through my room like thunder, and roaming through my sheets, I managed to find the bottle of whiskey I’d emptied last night. I tossed the motherfucker, the bottle hitting the door and shattering into a million pieces. The knocks stopped immediately, and throwing the sheets back over my head, I intended to get some fucking sleep.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“What do you fucking want!” I roared, immediately regretting that. My hangover reached legendary levels at the sound, and I gripped my head, feeling like a stupid fuck for getting so drunk last night. Hell, it’d been more than one night. I day-drank all yesterday, the day before, and even early this morning.

I wanted to drink more, taking a pillow and pressing it over my head. There was too much light in my room, my head spinning and throbbing.

And that blasted door.

Knocks hit again, softer this time.

“Royal?” started a voice, soft and meek. I didn’t recognize it, but it sounded like a young dude on the other side. “Sorry to bother you, man, but—”

My thunderous steps roared through the room, and when I ripped the door open, a kid basically stared scared as shit at me. I’d surprised him, the kid stumbling back, and I pretty much had too on the way to the door. I was frankly fucking surprised I even made it over here.

I honed in. “Then why are you?”

He wrestled with his hands—Tyler, I think his name was? Anyway, he wore his Windsor Prep academy uniform, and it must have been later in the day than I believed. I either missed school or it was about to start. Either way, it didn’t matter. I didn’t care.

There was also two of the dude, the guy hazing in and out before my eyes. He swallowed. “There’s a girl downstairs for you. Well, at the gates, and she’s making a lot of noise about wanting to talk to you.”

I rolled my eyes. “So?”

Girls asked for me all the time, nothing new.

He swallowed again. “I just thought you should know—”

I slammed the door in his face, told, so now he could go the fuck away. I returned to my bed, pulling the sheets back over my head.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

This kid seriously had a death wish, but as I didn’t have the energy or stamina to deal with him, I buried into my bed like a vampire. I figured he’d eventually go away and would unless he wanted me to annihilate him.

“So you want me to tell her to go, then?” he asked. “She said her name’s December…”

Tags: Eden O'Neill Court High Romance
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