Saint

“Yup. You should see the new Porsche the Lord has blessed Gabe with for this school year. The boy’s even got his own set of commandments—thou shalt bang all the bitches being at the top of the list.”

I snort and turn back to her. “So, where’s the other guy?”

“Who knows? Probably opening the Chamber of Secrets or getting a blow job from Laurel somewhere.”

“They’re together?”

“Not technically. He dumped her last year, but she’ll still run to him when he calls like a pathetic little puppy. She’s convinced they’re made for each other and she’s saving her real virginity for him.” She waggles her eyebrows. “Ass and mouth not included, of course.”

“That’s kind of … sad.” I’ve been in her shoes and can almost feel sorry for Laurel.

Almost.

“Don’t bother feeling a damn thing for those two except grateful that he’s not here. Remember how I said those three guys ruin lives? It’s mostly because of Saint Angelle.”

I tilt my head, certain I’ve misheard her. “Wait … this school is religious?”

Alondra drops her hand onto her fist, rests her chin on them, and blinks at me like I’m adorable. “That’s his name.” At the face I make, a big smile cracks her features. “Extra as hell, isn’t it? His family founded this place and his dad is one of the richest shitheads in the country. He co-founded NightOwl.”

Wow.

“I used to have a profile on there,” I murmur, my stomach tightening as I remember how I’d scrubbed all my information from the social media site after the accident.

“Take my advice, Mallory. Steer clear of Saint if you can help it. This is his world. We’re all just living in it.”