five.

Cora

Lying in bed with my stuffed camel squeezed to my chest, I try not to let what happed in the cafeteria consume me. But of course it’s the only thing I can think about. Spoiled, rotten little bullies. Who the hell do they think they are? Just because they have money, they think they rule the world? That they can step on anyone they want and treat people like dirt?

I knew asshole Alessandro Beckham was behind it all. I freakin’ saved his life. And this is how he repays me?

It’s clear I won’t have any allies in this school. Even my guide Sam turned her back on me.

There’s supposed to be entertainment right now, a famous band and dancing. There’s no way I can bring myself over there. I don’t need to subject myself to any more humiliation. I don’t know how I’ll get through my days here.

Sweeping up my phone, I video chat my parents.

“Cora!” Mom’s bright face comes into view, and my whole body deflates with relief. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy to see her. “Marcus!” she calls. “Marcus, Cora’s on the phone!”

It doesn’t take long before Dad’s beaming face joins my mother. “There’s our Royal Elite girl. Tell us, sweetheart, how was your first day? Was it as wonderful as you imagined?”

My heart leaps into my throat. They look so happy, so hopeful, so glad I’m living the life they wanted to provide for me. Dad worked hard his whole life to set up a college fund for me so I wouldn’t have to deal with loans. But it all went to hell when he lost his job. I caught him so many times alone in the kitchen late at night, just sitting there with troubled thoughts. Worrying about my future, wishing he could provide me with a better one than he had himself.

And Mom. She’s always wanted me to follow my dreams. Since I was a kid, I’ve yearned to be a lawyer. I put an end to that dream when Dad lost his job and Mom’s hours were cut, but I opened the box only a few weeks ago. How can I bear telling them I want to lock it again? Lock it up and throw away the key.

As I stare into the smiling and hopeful faces of my parents, I get a sudden epiphany. Those privileged kids have no idea what it means to lose everything you have, to yearn for something so hard that it stabs you to the core. They get everything handed to them on a silver platter. They don’t have to work hard for anything. No way am I going to let them push me around. Oh no. I’m going to continue attending school here and I am going to become a lawyer—a damn good one—and I’m going to make my parents the proudest and happiest parents in the entire world. I’m going to build a future for us.

I smile brightly. “The first day of school was perfect.”

----------------

A new day. Maybe a fresh start?

I make my way to the cafeteria for breakfast and sit down at a table at the back. There aren’t that many students here. I guess they sleep in and skip?

Once I give in my order to a waiter—strawberry French toast—I lean back in my seat and try to calm my racing heart. I hope he doesn’t plan on having another altercation with me. Not that I’m afraid of him or anything. Screw him.

When my food arrives, I force myself not to gobble it down and make a quick exit. Let him come. Let him taunt me.

Turns out, he doesn’t grace us with his presence after all. I guess he’s not much of a breakfast person.

After cleaning up after myself, I take out my schedule to see what class I have first: pre-calculus. It’s a requirement for all sophomores. I try not to groan as I make my way up the stairs in search for the classroom. Math has never been my strongest subject. I don’t know how I’ll survive this class. The place is pretty empty, too. I choose a seat in the back and reach for the novel I started last night.

As it draws nearer to the start of the period, more kids file into the classroom. Most, if not all of them, give me some sort of dirty look, even if it’s mild. I try to ignore them and focus on my book, but the truth is that it’s not so easy. I don’t know why it hurts so much, when these kids are stuck-up jerks. Do they really hate me because I don’t have a trust fund?

One of the Princes enters the room, his eyes glued to his phone. It’s the guy with the raven black hair. He’s followed by an entourage of girls, some of them trying to cling onto his arms. But he pays them no attention, just continues studying whatever’s on his phone.

As though he has eyes on his forehead, he makes his way over, still glued to his phone, and sits in the seat to my left. A few minutes later, the Prince with the curly light brown hair arrives. Two girls hang off his arms, and he smiles in a very charismatic manner, flashing the whitest teeth I’ve ever seen. He’s classically handsome and carries himself like he’s worth all the money he has in his bank account. I can totally picture him forty years from now, stinking rich and living the good life. The girl on his right bends forward to run her tongue across his cheek, purring the name Colt. So this must be Colt Montgomery. I did a bit of research on all three Princes last night. The Montgomery family comes from old money, and Colt likes to party around with as many girls as he can get.

He flops on the desk to my right, with the girls surrounding him. A few of them give me dirty looks, like they expect me to give up my seat. Yeah, not happening.

When there are about two minutes before first period bell, a charge sizzles in the air. A second later, Alessandro Beckham saunters into the classroom. Is the guy so cocky that he even has the air notifying us of his arrival?

His eyes do a quick sweep of the room before landing on me. Oh, great. I quickly lower my gaze to my book and pretend I’m completely engrossed in the story. I hear his footsteps before his loafers come into view. I don’t have to look at him to see the scowl on his face. It practically leaps off his body.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demands.

My eyes lift to his. “Excuse me?”

Like yesterday, his uniform sits perfectly on him, not a single crease. His hair falls over his eyes, still in that bad boy manner, and his eyes are like ice.

“This is my seat,” he says, venom dripping off his tongue.

With my eyes dead-locked on his, I say, “Does it have your name on it?”

“I don’t need to put my name on it.”

“Really? Because it’s a free country and I can sit wherever I want.”

He lowers his palms on the table of my desk, moving his face so close I can almost see my reflection in his eyes. “Not in my school.”

We’ve gathered quite a crowd, even kids from other classes are peeking their heads inside.

“Peasants aren’t welcome,” he continues.

“Guess they made an exception for me.”

His eyes growing more furious, he says, “If you don’t move, I’ll move you.”

My jaw hangs open. “Did you just threaten me?” I glance at everyone else, but they don’t seem fazed by what their prince just said. Is that really how they roll through life? Threatening anyone who stands in their way?

He straightens up and fists his hands to his sides. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “You owe me something.”

His brows rise so high they nearly touch his hair. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. A thank you is in order.”

“Why the hell should I thank you?”

“Because I saved your life?”

His mouth snaps shut, and I swear something flickers in his eyes, but it’s gone so fast I can’t make sense of it. He slides his face close to me, his lips only a few inches away from my ear. “I’d rather skin myself alive than thank you,” he hisses. “And if you dare bring that up again, I’ll destroy you.”

My heart thumps violently and I feel lightheaded. It takes all I have not to flee for the safety of the hallway. I’ve never felt so unsafe before in my life.