All the Little Lies (English Prep 1) - Page 11

“Why don’t you ever eat lunch?”

I shrugged. “Not hungry.” I didn’t want to tell her I didn’t have lunch money. The scholarship didn’t cover lunch, only the tuition fee, and the headmaster was nice enough to lend me the bits and pieces of lost-and-found clothing to make up a couple of uniforms.

Piper gave me a weird look as she bit into her hamburger. I knew what she would do if I told her the truth. She’d offer to pay, but I already felt guilty because she kept driving me home from school. Regardless if her parents paid for her gas, I hated taking handouts. I also didn’t want her to think I was only being her friend because she kept giving me things.

“I’m going to go to the library to study before world language,” I muttered, standing up quickly, trying to escape the conversation before it started. I smoothed out the stupid schoolgirl uniform and gathered my backpack.

“Hey! Wait!” Piper said, grabbing onto my wrist. “Do you want to go to a party with me tonight?”

Her green eyes twinkled with hope above the sprinkle of freckles on her nose.

A party? With these people? I’d rather stay locked in my room, listening to Jill suck Pete off in the next room.

Piper shook her head as if she read my thoughts. “It’s the next town over. Have you heard of Wellington Prep?”

Still standing, holding my backpack straps, I responded, “Um, yeah, sounds familiar.”

I knew exactly what Wellington Prep was. It was English Prep’s rivalry school. Their academics were just as good, the families just as rich. It was on the other side of this messed-up town. Pike Valley had exactly that: valleys. There were the two wealthy valleys where English Prep and Wellington Prep resided, then the rest of the valleys consisted of the middle class and the straight, dirty-begging-for-pennies poor. I’d lived in every one of them, except Wellington Prep.

“Well, my cousin, Andrew, throws parties almost every weekend. It’s where I hang most weekends since it was my old school and all. My parents travel a lot, leaving me home alone, and after bingeing Gossip Girl for the twentieth time, I decided I needed some sort of social life, even if at the wrong school.”

I frowned. “I’m not sure my foster parents will just let me go to a party three towns over.” No, they’d rather just lock me in my room and pretend I don’t exist.

Pete and Jill couldn’t afford me getting into trouble. If I got into trouble, the state (Ann) would investigate, and they wouldn’t get their precious foster-parent paycheck. That was all I was to them: a check. Money was the root of the world’s problems, I swore it.

Piper gave me a half-smile. “Well, if you change your mind, text me.”

Embarrassed, I dropped my head. “I don’t have a phone.”

Her face blanched as she dipped her fork into her salad. “Oh, that’s right. Well, you have your laptop, right?”

I nodded, tugging my backpack close. My laptop was five years old but still worked like a gem. It was the only thing in my backpack that I had brought from my house when CPS took me. That, some clothes, and the locket I wore around my neck.

“Just email me through our school email address. Okay?”

Piper bit into her ranch-covered lettuce, and I nodded with a fake smile on my face. “If I change my mind, I will. I’ll see you later.”

And what I meant by change my mind was if Jill and Pete decide to be nice human beings in the next eight hours, then yes, I’ll email you.

I slowly backed away from Piper and turned around. I walked over to where the food was and waited a beat before I felt I could blend in with the other students grabbing trays and filling their plates with food. Leisurely, I stepped in line, pretending to grab a tray, and stood behind one of the tallest boys I could find. I swept my gaze to Piper, and she had her back to me, thinking I’d gone up to the library—which I planned to do right after I grabbed something small and discreet from the buffet. From what I could gather, no one was paying any attention to me, so I hurriedly swiped an apple and stepped out of line. I bent down beside a cluster of students and pretended to tie my shoe while simultaneously pulling my backpack off my back to shove the apple inside. I just need some calories. It was hard to tell if Jill and Pete would leave a plate for me this evening, especially after stealing some food from their pantry.

Right as I unzipped the zipper, a pair of black shoes appeared so close to me I thought they were going to step on me. I angled my chin up, my hair falling past my shoulders. My eyes went past a pair of khakis and a filled-out navy blazer as I sucked in a breath. Christian tilted his head a fraction and clenched his jaw.

My chest grew tight. Nerves trickled down my spine.

Cool, gray, hooded eyes were staring down at me, and I swore it was just the two of us in the cafeteria. The chatter and clanking of dishes was nonexistent. I felt like I was looking through a tunnel and Christian was at the very end.

I swallowed, licked my lips, and continued to stare at him. Don’t look away. Almost as if it were a challenge, he flicked his eyebrow and he narrowed his eyes. He lazily crouched down so we were eye level. My heart was beating a thousand beats per second, and the only thing I could think was, He’s painfully beautiful. Christian’s jaw was as sharp as glass, his skin free of flaws, his nose strong and straight, and his eyes could suck the life right out of me.

My mouth parted as he leaned in closer, his intoxicating smell putting a spell on me. Then, I felt his hand cover my apple, and he plucked it right out of my palm.

I gasped, the action bringing me back to reality.

“Like father, like daughter?” He took a big bite of the glossy, red skin. The juice dripped down onto the floor below us. His jaw worked up and down as he chewed, and after he swallowed, he stared me right in the eye and whispered, “We don’t steal at my school, thief.” Then, he stood up, threw my apple in the trash, and walked away.

I gave myself three seconds to gather my emotions and threw them right in the trash along with my lunch.

Fuck him. This wasn’t his school, because if it was, and he truly did “rule” it like everyone said, then I wouldn’t still be here.

Tags: S.J. Sylvis English Prep Romance
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