I don’t even hesitate, pushing out of my chair and heading for the door, right as a shoulder shoves into me and knocks me to the side.
“Trash leaves last,” says Chelsea with a smirk before strutting out of the class.
“Yeah cheese girl, learn your place,” shoots Britney as she drags her boyfriend behind her, she has a vice grip on him.
“Enjoy your last day,” comes from Octavia as she flutters her lashes at Harrison. In return he barges his way past her almost knocking the silly little twerp off her feet.
I’m sniggering as I leave and I’m pretending that I don’t notice Elijah following on behind or how Ivy gives me a weird look right before she goes into her next class and I go into mine.
We don’t really have much of a requirement for a locker we’re issued one nevertheless, but I’m not sure what to make of it. I have one, great. I can store my laptop and books and whatever else I need inside. No, the thing I don’t understand is why mine has been painted grey when all the others are cream. It’s a hodgepodge of a job to be sure, I just don’t understand the symbolism behind it.
“Why is it grey?”
I spin around and smack my palm into Elijah’s chest, no doubt I definitely feel it more than him. He may as well be made out of granite.
“Jeez Louise you almost gave me a heart attack, wear a bell or something,” I say, feeling more frazzled than is warranted.
“Sorry little Hen, I was just wondering why you painted your locker. That’s not really allowed.”
“Really, I had no idea,” I deadpan before continuing, “I didn’t do this and for the life of me cannot figure out why it’s even been done. Why the colour grey? What’s it supposed to mean?”
“Hey it’s okay, just put your stuff away and we’ll grab some lunch together,” he says, bending at the knees so he can meet my eye level.
“I don’t want a friend Elijah,” I reply on a sigh, as I pull open the locker door and come face to face with yet another number one, written in red paint.
What am I missing? Is this supposed to mean something to me, I mean sure that Harrison dickwad keeps telling me one more day so it could just be that. By why use red and paint my locker grey, something else is going on here and I need to figure out what.
“Come on, canteen time,” I don’t even argue with him as he steers me towards our dining area.
He leads me to what I guess is now my table before disappearing over to the food prep area. I’m not feeling remotely hungry, but if he wants to waste time collecting me some food that’s his problem. Yet another reason I won’t have friends, I’m not nice enough, not anymore.
“You don’t eat your food anyway, so I got you a sarnie. That way you can take it with you and eat it when you’re hungry.”
“Why do you want to talk to me Elijah? I’m not exactly welcoming you with open arms,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him.
He drops down in the seat next to me, leaning as close as he can and laughing while I’m trying to push him away.
“Because you told the self-imposed rulers of the school where to go, without batting an eye. You haven’t fallen over yourself trying to make friends with every Tom, Dick and Harry you meet, and you don’t want to know me. It makes me like you even more.” He’s so arrogant, he may be hot as sin but his arrogance is an utter turn off in my book.
“Well, you’re just a glutton for punishment. I meant what I said. I don’t want anyone in my life right now, I just need to get through this year and then I’m free. At least that way the Shepherds will be long gone.” My tone is harsh, he needs to know I’m not messing around.
“Who are the Shepherds?" he asks, intrigue lighting his eyes up like a Christmas tree.
His eyes are sparking with more interest when I tell him what I named the rulers and why. He’s clapping his hands with joy and gaining a raised eyebrow from Amias, Ivy and Noah, as they make their way over.
“What have I got to do so you will all just go away?”
“Stop being interesting, Amias loves a mystery and he hasn’t cracked you. Noah is a sweetheart and loves that he gets your food when you walk away. As for myself, if you hate the twats then I don’t hate you,” says Ivy, as she takes a bite of her omelette.
“They’re the Shepherds now,” Elijah informs them, and they love the reasoning behind it as well. These are very weird people, I don’t know how to handle them.
“You stole my seat.” That voice is husky, like fingers trailing down your spine and making you squirm in all the best ways.
I can’t recall if I heard Noah speak yesterday but I’d gladly listen to him talk all damn day.
“You can’t monopolise a chair, just because it happens to be next to little Hen.”
“Enough,” I snap as I slam my hands down on the table, “I am not little Hen or pretty girl, I don’t do nicknames, and my name is Henleigh so either use it or go away.”