Saint

15

I sit down for breakfast in the dining room Monday morning distracted and groggy from a weekend of little sleep and tons of anxiety. I couldn’t get the weird animosity between Saint and Liam out of my head. There’s a part of me that thinks I’m the reason for it, but Saint knew we were kind of hanging out before Friday night. Was it because we were off campus at Liam’s house that made him so angry?

Was he afraid we were going to hook up?

I’m his toy, after all, and he doesn’t like to share.

The thought sends a spike of anger rushing through me. I’m not his property, no matter what he thinks. If Liam and I want to hang out at his house together, there’s not a damn thing Hot Draco can do about it.

I’m stewing over my plate of pancakes when Loni comes rushing up to me and distracts me from my frustrating thoughts.

“Mallory! I need your help!” she declares without preamble, and my eyebrows shoot up.

“Umm … with what?”

She sits down next to me. “Okay, so Headmaster Aldridge asked me to take over the pla

I blink, confused. “But … that’s only a few weeks away, isn’t it?”

She groans and bobs her head. “Yeah, it is. Apparently, they put an idiot in charge before me and she dropped pretty much every ball she could and spent all the prep money on coke since her parents have apparently cut her off.” She gives me a second to process this information, before explaining, “I’ve helped plan the weekend before, so Aldridge picked me out for the job personally.”

“That sucks.”

“Big time,” she agrees. Clasping her hands together, she makes her eyes so wide, she reminds me of an anime character. “Mallory, would you please, please help me? Pretty, pretty please with a cherry on top?”

I almost laugh at her earnestness because it’s kind of adorable. “Of course, you didn’t even have to ask.” I mean that. Other than something that would get me expelled, there’s not much I wouldn’t do for the girl who’d made my year bearable.

“Oh, thank you!” She claps in delight then lunges forward to wrap me in a tight hug. “You’re a lifesaver.”

I pat her back and chuckle. “No problem.”

Suddenly, she stiffens in my arms.

“Hey Mallory? Why’s Saint looking at you like that?”

My features sink into a frown as she pulls away. “What do you mean?” Twisting around, I scan the hall until my attention lands on him a few tables away. A small gasp escapes my lips at the intensity behind his stare. I mean, the bastard always looks intense, but today he looks frustrated—and pissed.

Is he still upset about Friday night’s drama?

“I can’t tell if he wants to kill you or fuck you in front of everyone here,” Loni murmurs.

“I’m pretty sure it’s the first option,” I reply, turning back around so I don’t have to endure his icy glare any longer.

Plunking her elbow on the table, she rests her chin in her hand and twists her lips. “Did you do something in particular to piss him off?”

I make a face. “Who knows anymore. I breathe, and he’s mad. It is what it is.”

Except this is different. I can feel it. I just can’t figure out why.

“He’s such a dick,” she grumbles.

“Yeah … he is.”

I fight the urge to turn back around to look at him and finish my breakfast as quickly as possible so I can get away from his burning stare.

When I reach English class later, I stop short as soon as I walk into the classroom. Liam’s sitting in his old seat, away from mine. I’m surprised by how disappointed I am by that. Slowly, I make my way over to him. He doesn’t ignore me, but his expression isn’t as friendly as the ones he was showing me Friday night.

“Hey, Liam, you okay?”

He arches a brow, his gaze almost bored. “Yeah, why?”

“Well … it’s just, you seemed really mad Friday night and—”

“I wasn’t,” he interrupts.

There’s a finality to his words that lets me know loud and clear the subject is closed. So, we’re just going to pretend nothing happened that night. Cool.

Whatever.

“We should probably schedule another time to meet for the project,” I say in the most detached voice I can muster.

“I could do Wednesday,” he sighs, rubbing a hand through his thick black hair. “Library?”

I try not to think about the last time I was there. Otherwise, my voice might fail me. “If you wanted to go somewhere else—”

“Library’s good,” he cuts me off again, and I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. “We should stick to staying on campus. Better we’re not seen in public together.”

His words sting, more so because I’d thought we were making progress toward being friends. I try not to let my hurt show, but I’m not sure I’m all that successful.

Raising my chin, I grit out, “Fine. Wednesday at the library it is. See you there.”

Spi

I fail.

My bad mood hasn’t improved any by the time I get to gym class. I’m glad today we have a free play period, so I can swim and pretend no one else is there. Mr. Norris has us all line up at the very begi

I gnash my teeth in frustration and anger. First, he ruins my Friday night, and now he’s pretending I don’t exist?

Stupid, privileged bastard.

When Mr. Norris releases us to go do our own activities, I’m so done with Saint’s bullshit, that I storm straight toward him. His stormy blue eyes meet mine briefly, but he turns away without a word and begins heading to the weight room with most of the other guys.

“Hey!” I snap. “I need to talk to you.”

He doesn’t turn around. Doesn’t acknowledge in any way that he’s heard me. I curl my hands into fists and keep up my pursuit.

“Saint, I swear to God—”

“Holy shit, stage five clinger alert.” I stop in my tracks and turn to find Laurel and her posse of airheads giggling at as she sneers at me. As usual, she’s got one hand on her hip. “Take a hint, bitch. He doesn’t want your loose-ass-pussy. Stop stalking him.”

Another round of snorts and giggles.

Stomach churning with fury, I let out a hiss and open my mouth to snap back a retort, but a deep, deliciously male voice beats me to it.

“For fuck’s sake, Laurel, nobody asked your opinion. Go pretend to break a sweat somewhere else.”

I gape at Saint, who’s flashing his ex with a look that could conquer cities, empires, all on its own. Laurel looks just as shocked as I feel, but she doesn’t try to argue with him. Shooting me a death glare, she slinks away, her bitches slithering right behind her.

“Thanks, I think,” I murmur.

Saint doesn’t say a word as he directs his ice-cold features toward me. Unlike Laurel, however, I don’t shirk away from him. I stare him down and let him see just how furious I really am with him. There’s a moment where I think he’ll say something, but he doesn’t. He’s determined to give me the silent treatment, it seems, as he grants me his broad back and stalks off toward the weight room.

For a moment, I consider chasing after him again and confronting him in front of all his stupid friends. I decide against it, however, and turn to make my way to the pool.