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twenty-three.
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Hated By The Bully King twenty-four.
CoraMonday morning, I’m sitting in the Royal Elite cafeteria, poking at scrambled eggs and pancakes. After tossing and turning in bed last night, flinging the idea to and fro, weighing the pros and cons, I’ve made my final decision: I’m leaving Royal Elite Academy. No more questioning if I’m doing the right thing, no more trying to convince myself the bullying isn’t so bad. I’m done with this place and these people.After I shove the food down my throat, I’ll head to Principal Hipskind’s office and tell him my choice.I feel people staring at me as I continue trying to eat. Some students have humor in their eyes, like they’re glad I nearly drowned. A few, like Heather and her stupid friends, look pissed. I still have no idea who pushed me, but I won’t be surprised if she had something to do with it. Their looks only strengthen my resolve to be done with this place.As I’m forcing some orange juice down my parched throat, a pair of black shiny loafers slides in my line of vision. Slow
Hated By The Bully King twenty-five.
CoraThese past two weeks have been…interesting.The bullying has stopped. I mean, I still get the occasional note in my locker or shoved under my door and students still give me dirty looks in the halls or call me Peasant Girl, but that’s minor compared to the things they used to do. I can see how their eyes burn to trip me during class, though, or how they itch to slam the ball into my head during gym. But they hold back.Monday morning, I walk toward my first period with my head lowered, clutching my books to my chest, worried the silence has been building up to something major and it’s just a matter of time until BAM. But first period leads to second period and second leads to third and…nothing. Is it possible the bullying has actually stopped?I tell myself not to lower my guard. I don’t trust these kids.As I’m shoving some books into my locker at the start of lunch period, I feel that familiar charge in the air. Spinning around, I catch Alessandro, Ethan, and Colt marching down
Hated By The Bully King twenty-six.
CoraThe library is the perfect place to keep a low profile, since hardly anyone comes here, except for the bookworms. True there hasn’t been a reason to keep a low profile, since there hasn’t been any more bullying, hardly any notes either. I trek the halls with every cell in my body on high alert, certain someone will pull something soon. But nothing. I don’t know what’s worse, getting bullied or worrying I’ll get bullied any second.Most of the students hardly look my way. If I do get disgusted looks, they’re usually from Heather and her friends or Jayson and his crew. But none of them approach or touch me. In fact, when Jayson passed my lunch table earlier today with a pudding in his hand, I could have sworn he’d pour it down my back. I even twisted my body slightly, ready to flee if he got too close. But he didn’t even look my way. I’m not sure if I should count my blessings or run for my life.Someone flops down on the chair across from me. I groan when I take in that familiar c
Hated By The Bully King one.
CoraThis isn’t a house. It’s a palace.As I weave through the plethora of guests, balancing a tray on my palm and offering hors d’oeuvres I can’t even pronounce, my gaze roams around the ballroom. My mouth practically reaches the floor, my brain trying to comprehend that people actually live this way.Chandeliers are suspended from the ceiling, their crystals sparkling across the walls and bouncing off the expensive jewelry on the guests. The marble floor is so polished I can practically see my reflection. The tables are set with crisp white, elegant tablecloths, the dishes and utensils glittering, and the guests are dressed in their finest.We’ve catered to the wealthy before, but this is a whole other ball game.And the guest of honor? None other than sixteen-year-old Alessandro Beckham, the sole heir to the Beckham Empire. His dad is Asher Beckham, the richest man alive. He owns practically the whole world, no joke. From hotel chains to tech companies, sports teams, international
Hated By The Bully King two.
CoraUgh, why do I feel like I was run over by a train? The whole left side of my body throbs.My eyes flash open when it hits me. Alessandro Beckham’s party last night. The shooter. Alessandro nearly getting killed. My tackling him to the floor. His ungrateful behavior toward me.It’s not like I saved his life or anything. Whatever.Groaning through the pain, I swing my legs over the side of my bed and stuff my feet into my slippers. Voices from outside carry into my open window, and when I wobble over and pull the curtain aside, I see a crowd gathered around my house. Cameramen and reporters.“What…the hell?”I rub my eyes. Nope, they’re still there.My door bursts open and Mom rushes inside. “Cora, get dressed and come to the living room. Quickly.”“What’s going on?”“Get dressed. Now.”“Why—”She slams the door after her.“Seriously, what on Earth?” I open the door and peek out, straining my ears. There’s a strange voice in the living room. Another reporter? Does this have anythin
Hated By The Bully King three.
CoraThose academy gates I’ve been looking forward to meeting smile at me from a distance, the words “Royal Elite Academy” glimmering in golden letters. Mr. Beckham sent a limo to fetch me, and even after riding in it for over two hours, I still can’t get over it. We passed through some of the richest towns in Georgia, and as we draw closer to the building, I notice a massive forest behind it. It makes the school look even more beautiful. I’m practically bouncing in my seat as the driver pulls up to the gate and stops before the security booth.The driver rolls down the windows. “Miss Cora Williams.” He gestures to me.The guard walks around to the back of the limo and peeks at me. He stretches his hand. “Your identification card, miss?”Identification card? Oh, right. I rummage in my jacket pocket and retrieve the school ID that arrived via mail several days ago. I hand it to the guy, who scans it, then me, and the card again. After giving me a slight nod, he passes it to me. “You ma
Hated By The Bully King four.
CoraA few girls turn their heads in my direction and get that disgusted face that girl Heather showered me with only an hour ago. But most of them pretend I don’t exist. They all file into the auditorium and choose seats toward the back, leaving a few free seats sprinkled around. I choose one toward the middle of the back, having no choice but to squeeze past other students’ feet, eliciting frustrated groans.With a huff, I lower myself in my seat and lean back. The girl next to me, pretty, tall, with strawberry blond hair, twists her body to look at me.“Hey,” I say, stretching out a hand. “I’m Cora Williams.”Her gaze drops to my hand and her nose twists as though maggots are attached to my skin. She, too, gives me a quick sweep and doesn’t like what she finds. I’m about to pop a blood vessel, when I finally realize the difference between their uniforms and mine. Theirs is crisp, neatly pressed, and look like a million bucks. Mine? Well, it definitely doesn’t match up. I don’t unde
Hated By The Bully King five.
CoraLying 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
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