Elite (Eagle Elite #1)(13)

“Sweet. Imagine what she’d do if you bought her a car.” This from Phoenix. I heard clattering of more silverware.

Chase smiled and licked his lips. “I’m sorry about…”

I waved him off. “I’ve got boots, we’re even.”

He inclined his head and led me to my seat.

“So, a restaurant? At a school? Really?” I direct my question to Monroe. She blushed and looked at her lap.

“Nobody really knows about it.”

“We like our privacy.” Nixon interrupted our conversation and snapped his fingers. A waiter appeared to take our order.

Nixon ordered in French. Of course he would.

But then everyone else followed suit. When it was my turn. I opened my mouth, but all that came out was a cross between a grunt and a whimper. Great.

Chase said something to Monroe in French. She laughed and then rapidly fired off orders to the waiter who gave me a warm smile and disappeared.

“French?” I squeaked. “How many languages do you guys speak?”

“Three.” Tex held his water in the air as if saluting me.

“Two.” Phoenix shrugged.

“Five,” Chase said.

Nixon cleared his throat.

“Tell her man.” Chase nudged him.

Nixon cursed and refused to make eye contact as he mumbled, “Ten.”

“Ten?” I exclaimed. “I can barely speak English.”

“We know.” Phoenix laughed. I thought it appropriate to throw my fork this time.

He ducked and then hit Nixon on the hand. “I like her.”

“Yeah, well, I like kids. Doesn’t mean I run around screwing everything I see in order to have one,” Nixon spat.

The table fell silent. How did they deal with his crappy attitude all the time? Monroe shrugged at me and began asking questions about my classes. Before I knew it hot food was in front of me.

“I’m afraid to ask what this is.” I poked the hot meal with my fork. It smelled delicious.

“Heaven. It’s heaven. It melts in your mouth and makes you scream with ecstasy. Girl, if you don’t have an orgasm after experiencing that particular meal, then you’re a hopeless case.” Phoenix bit hungrily into his food and winked.

I felt my face heat severely.

Monroe nudged me. “Don’t worry, Trace, Phoenix always talks like that. I think it’s because he’s never really had—”

Phoenix pointed his fork at Monroe and glared. “Don’t even finish that sentence.”

Tex and Chase laughed.

And again Nixon was silent.

I ate the meal. Correction, I inhaled the meal and promised myself I would start running so that I wouldn’t gain ten pounds my first day here.

“So.” I looked at my cell and back at the rest of the table. “Who eats here next lunch hour?”

Everyone looked to Nixon. He sucked in his lip ring and put his hands behind his head, leaning back on the legs of his chair. We were all in uniforms, but he had taken off his jacket, so I could see the outline of his dark tattoos underneath his crisp white button up. The shirt stretched over his muscles in such a way that I couldn’t stop staring. I mean, the other guys were attractive, but Nixon was a step above the rest. He was chaotic perfection.

“Nobody.”

“Huh?” I was still staring at his bulky arms.

“Eats here,” Nixon said pointedly. “It’s just us. Just this lunch hour.”

“But…” Confused I looked around. “Then why am I here?”

“We like to slum it sometimes.” Nixon grinned smugly. “Now run off before you’re late.”

I didn’t move.

Chase put his head in his hands and groaned. “I hate it when Mom and Dad fight.”

Phoenix burst out laughing. I had to admit to finding it quite funny myself. Nixon, however, was not amused.

He pushed his chair back and stormed out of the room, the door slamming behind him.

“Is he always like that?”

“Actually…” Tex leaned forward. “No. I think you bring out the worst in him.”

“Yay me,” I said sarcastically.

“You’re the first outsider who has ever eaten in here,” Monroe said to my right. “He hands out key cards to control the cliques. To make sure fights don’t break out between the kids from different countries at war and stuff. I just assumed he put you in one of the normal lunches.”

“What do you mean?”

Chase shrugged. “He’s not just in charge of the key cards, he’s student body president. He makes sure that access is limited for each student. Take for example, a kid from North Korea going to school here. You think they’re going to get along with a South Korean? Or better yet, some ritzy American kid?”

“Um… no?”

Everyone laughed.

Phoenix shook his head. “That’s a hell no, New Girl.”

Chase crossed his arms. My mouth went dry at the sight. His dark hair wasn’t as unruly as Nixon’s, but he still had that dangerous look about him. “What if some sheik’s kid goes to school here but he’s from a different sect than some other kid? What if those same kids eat in the same lunch room that serves pork?”

“Oh.” I huffed. “I guess that makes sense, but then doesn’t that segregate everyone?”