Wicked Liars (Windsor Academy 1)

“Miss.” A man wearing a white coat hands a tray to me with a plate, cloth napkin, silverware, and a glass on it already.

“Thank you.”

I check out the selection, which has several different types of soups and salads along with an assortment of dishes from around the world. Italian, Mexican, Asian, American—you name it, it’s probably here. I choose some teriyaki chicken with steamed rice and an iced tea.

Tray in hand, I scan the room and finally spot Ainsley. Oh, hell no. There’s an empty seat right next to her, but you couldn’t pay me to sit at that table. Three of the chairs are taken by her brother and the other two guys he hangs out with. My wicked stepsister and her cronies occupy the other three. I spot an empty table across the room and make a beeline for it. I have no choice but to pass them on my way, so I keep my head down, hoping Ainsley doesn’t notice me.

“Jazz, where are you going?”

No such luck.

“Hey.” I jerk my head to the corner table in the back. “I think I’m just going to sit over there.”

Ainsley gives me a sad smile as she takes in the six pairs of eyes drilling holes through me. Thankfully, she gets the hint, grabs her tray, and stands. “May I join you?”

I smile tentatively. “Sure.”

“Ainsley,” her brother growls. “I thought we settled this.”

Of course it wouldn’t be easy.

My new friend scoffs. “Oh, screw you, Kingston. The only thing I settled on was the fact that you can’t tell me what to do.”

His hazel eyes narrow. “I’m looking out for you. Who knows what kind of diseases she’s carrying?”

I fight the urge to punch this asshole in the throat. “Excuse me? First of all, she is right here, so if you have something to say, you can say it directly to me. Secondly, if anyone around here is riddled with disease, it’s probably you. I hear chlamydia is on the rise—you might want to get checked out.”

The mean girls let out a collective gasp. This little showdown has drawn the attention of everyone else in the room. They’re gawking openly—not even trying to hide their interest. Geez, these people need to get a life.

“Oh, I like her.” The gorgeous boy with the darker features winks. He’s a mixture of ethnicities like me, but I can’t quite tell which. Maybe African American and Asian? Possibly Pacific Islander. “The feisty ones are always freaks in bed.”

I’m no stranger to crude teenage boys, so his attempt to shock me doesn’t work. “Too bad you’ll never know.”

His thick veiny forearm flexes as he rubs a hand over his mouth. “We’ll see about that, sweetheart. I’m Bentley, by the way. Just so you know whose name you’ll be screaming out later.”

Before I have a chance to retort, Kingston slams his fist on the table. “Shut the fuck up, Bent.”

Bentley shrugs. “Hey man, don’t be a cockblocker. She’s hot.”

What is it with these douchebags talking about me like I’m not in the room?

I make direct eye contact with Kingston. “I’m done wasting my time on this bullshit. Do me a favor and just stay the hell away from me and I’d be more than happy to do the same.”

With that, I turn on my heels and walk away with Ainsley hot on my trail. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kingston start to rise, but he stops when Peyton pulls on his arm and starts whispering something in his ear.

Ainsley laughs as she sets her tray down and pulls out a chair at our table. “That was awesome, Jazz. I haven’t seen someone put my brother in his place in... well, ever. Besides me, that is.”

I scoff as I take a seat. “Yeah, well, then I’d say it’s long overdue. I can’t believe you two are related.”

“He isn’t so bad once you get to know him. Believe it or not, Kingston actually has a heart deep down. Your sister and her plastic groupies are much worse—I’m pretty sure they sold their souls to Satan in exchange for lip injections and boob jobs.”

“Stepsister.” I laugh. “She and Kingston definitely seem like the perfect match.”

“Ha! Peyton wishes.”

“What does that mean?” I take a bite of my food. Damn, this is good. Definitely not the cardboard pizza lunches I’m used to. I feel like I’ve entered an alternate universe.

“Kingston barely tolerates Peyton most days.”