My teeth grind and my fingers curl as my eyes search for him.
The douchebag from the graveyard who thought threatening me this morning was the best way to reintroduce himself.
Fucking asshole. There’s no way he’s not a part of that crowd.
When I finally locate him, the anger that was stirring in my stomach explodes at the sight of him pinning the girl who I assume is the ringleader of the bitch crew against the restaurant wall.
Her golden hair is pulled back into the sleekest ponytail I think I’ve ever seen, and her face—even from this distance—is flawless. Thankfully, I can’t see her body, but I know from previous experience that she’s got the curves of a fucking goddess.
If I had the energy to feel anything about her when our eyes locked as I walked into my English lit class earlier, then I’d have hated her. But like most cheer bitches from my past, I paid her little mind before holding my head high and dropping into an empty chair, all the while feeling her laser beams of hate burning into my back.
To girls like her, any new female is a threat.
Well, I’ve had a taste of what she’s currently grinding up against, and while it might have been fun, after the less than friendly reception I received only a few hours ago, she’s more than welcome to him.
I have no desire to get in the middle of whatever they’ve got going on.
Ripping my eyes from the ‘it’ crowd, I find the short line waiting for food and head over.
My stomach growls, and when I get a look at what’s on offer, I realize that it’s not just the smell that’s that much better than my previous schools, but it actually looks edible as well.
With a tray full of food, I walk toward the tables, scanning for the closest viable option.
There’s no way I’m joining any of the geek tables.
What I really need is an empty one. I’d much prefer to sit alone than pretend I care about whatever the people around me are talking about.
Finally, my eyes land on an almost empty table, and when I recognize the one person sitting at it, I know it’s where I’m meant to be.
“Hey, do you mind?” I ask, nodding toward the empty side of the bench.
She glances up, her eyes assessing me for a beat before one of her shoulders lifts in a shrug and she looks back down as if I’m already boring her.
“Sure.”
Lowering my tray, I take a seat.
“Your first day too?” I ask, although I’m not sure why the words fall from my lips. It’s not like she’s giving off ‘hey, I’m friendly, talk to me’ vibes.
It takes her a second, but she finally drags her attention from her cell and toward me.
Her eyes narrow as she looks me over. I know why. I’m sure I don’t look anything like the kind of people she’s usually friends with.
“Y-yeah. Is it that obvious?”
Copying her move, I shrug. “Just that you were coming out of Miss Hill’s office, and now you’re sitting here alone.”
Shooting a quick glance over her shoulder, she mutters, “Not really my kind of people.”
“Tell me about it,” I agree, spearing a piece of pasta with my fork and popping it into my mouth.
Oh my God, I inwardly groan when the flavors of the ragu hit me. This really isn’t one of the school cafeterias of my past.
“You American?” she asks with a sigh, sounding utterly bored by our riveting conversation.
“What gave me away?” I joke. “I’m Stella, by the way,” I add when she doesn’t look like she’s going to reply.
“Emmie. What do you have this afternoon?”