Fallen Heirs (Windsor Academy 3)

I laugh. “And you?”

“You could say I’m definitely sold on the idea.” Ainsley smiles coyly before throwing her hands up. “Ugh! I don’t understand why Blair can so easily forgive Nate, but not Serena. I don’t get girls who think the hero can do no wrong.”

I look at the screen and see the headband-wearing brunette bitching about something. Again. We’re two episodes in, and I gotta say, I’m not too impressed so far. It’s basically like the Upper East Side version of Windsor.

“Yeah, me neither.”

“Did you get that locket for Christmas? I don’t think I’ve seen you wear it before.”

I finger the delicate silver chain around my neck. “Yeah, Kingston got it for me.”

Ainsley lifts the charm from its resting spot over my clavicle. “It’s pretty.”

“I agree.”

I leave out the part that it has a built-in GPS tracker, so I never need to worry about being separated from my phone again.

“When do your driving lessons start?”

“Right after New Year’s.”

“Are you nervous?”

I nod. “More excited than nervous. I’ve driven before—Shawn used to let me practice with his car late at night in a Walmart parking lot. I feel comfortable with the controls and stuff. Just not the whole getting-on-the-road-with-other-cars-and-avoiding-hazards part.”

Ainsley laughs. “Well, that is kind of the most important part.”

“Hence, the driving lessons,” I deadpan.

She grabs the remote and pauses the show when the guys return from playing ball. Kingston sets the basketball down by the door and goes straight for the fridge, grabbing three bottles of Powerade.

“Did you guys have fun?” Ainsley asks.

Kingston chugs half the bottle in one go. “We always do.”

“Ooh, Gossip Girl!” Bentley plops in between Ainsley and me on the couch. “Hit play, Ains.”

Reed and Kingston roll their eyes while my mouth drops open in shock. “You like this show?”

“Uh, yeah! What’s not to like? There’s a bunch of hot chicks in it. And everybody’s always banging someone they’re not supposed to be banging. Who doesn’t appreciate some juicy drama?” Bentley looks at me like I’m an idiot.

I raise my hand. “Me. I could live without it for the rest of my life.”

“Bo

r-ing,” Bentley singsongs. “At least in fiction. Although, one should never underestimate the power of a good hate fuck. Man, those are the best.”

Kingston’s emerald eyes light up with amusement. I believe you’re familiar with the concept, they say.

Quite familiar, my eyes retort.

Ainsley leans over and sniffs the sweaty boy beside her. “Bent, you stink. Go take a shower.”

Bentley sticks his nose in one of his armpits. “Eh, it’s been worse.”

I make a face. “You all reek. It smells like a boys’ locker room in here.”

Kingston’s eyes narrow. “How would you know what a boys’ locker room smells like?”