Elite (Eagle Elite #1)(14)

Monroe laughed. “Boots, it’s college. We’re segregated regardless, whether it be by major or class. This is just the way things are here. It keeps everyone safe. Keeps the fights down.”

The table fell silent again.

I looked up at Chase. “But if he hates me so much why would he want me here?”

A clock chimed in the restaurant causing everyone to push away from the table and stand.

My question remained unanswered as we all shuffled to the door.

I made my way out down the hall, but Chase caught up to me and whispered in my ear as we walked. “Protection.”

“What?”

“See ya!” He waved and walked down the hall, leaving me to wonder what in the heck I needed to be protected from? Or whom?





Chapter Seven



“So tired…” I mumbled, swiping my card across the elevator door. Okay, so I knew it was lazy for me to use my one pass on the first day of school. But my brain was fried. I was chosen to speak during my last three classes. My final class had been a KI elective which was basically like PE. I had no idea colleges forced exercise!

Lucky for me, I had it all wrong.

They don’t do P.E. at Elite.

No, they did defensive arts. Seriously. That’s what they called it. As in, not dark arts from Harry Potter, but defensive arts. It could have easily been the same thing with how my body felt.

For the past hour, I swear, my soul left my body and I was victim to some guy named Spike brutally attacking me.

At least now I knew how to gouge someone’s eyes out, which I knew was going to come in handy if I had to sit and eat with Nixon every day.

I chewed my lip. The elevator doors opened. I stepped in and leaned against the wall. Why would he be so mean to me and then make sure I was always around him?

The elevator stopped. Great. I hit my floor again. It still didn’t budge and now a shrieking noise began coming from above me.

I hated small spaces. Panic set in. I was just about to use the little red phone to call the fire department, or the SWAT, or something when the elevator moved again.

“Thank God,” I mumbled as the doors opened to my floor.

I shuffled to my door and stopped in front of it.

On my door was a picture of my face on a cow’s body.

Should have known that was going to happen sooner or later.

Clever. Bet they nearly killed off all their brain cells to come up with that one. I decided to join in the fun and drew a heart around my head with a little bubble that said MOO.

Take that.

I pushed open the door and immediately threw off my jacket, followed by my shirt, and then I addressed my skirt. I heard chuckling.

My hands froze on my skirt’s zipper. I looked up.

Nixon lay across my bed. “Please, don’t let me interrupt. Continue.”

I flipped him off.

He laughed harder.

I quickly pulled on the tank top I’d worn to bed and thrown across the chair. “What do you want?”

“Not sex, but thanks for the offer.”

“I was not…” I took three deep breaths. Arguing got me nowhere with Satan. “Why are you here?”

“Waiting for my sister. What else?”

I exhaled in relief.

“What, you disappointed I didn’t want an afternoon screw?”

“Not at all.” I sat far far away on Monroe’s bed. “Besides if you needed one, all you have to do is knock on any door on this floor. Just be sure to use protection. I know how you are about germs.”

“Only yours,” he sang.

I threw a pillow in his direction hoping to smack him in the face. He caught it mid air and scowled. “Can you at least wait for her outside?”

“Nope.”

“Why?” I ground my teeth together. At the rate I was going I would have nothing left to grind.

“Because, I like your bed. It’s comfortable.”

“It has my germs and I swear to you I drooled all over my pillow last night.”

He shrugged. “I only hate germs on people, not objects.”

Nixon looked at his watch then put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.

“Why?”

“Why what, Farm Girl?”

“Why don’t you like people touching you? Is that your rule or an Elite thing?”

“You ask a lot of questions for someone so stupid.”

That stung, but I was too tired to let it sink too far into my consciousness. “It is the only way to find out how to survive in this place.”

“You’ll survive, if you follow the rules. I thought I told you that.” He propped up on his elbow. “The system works, Trace. I know you think I’m an *, but if I was nice, they would eat you alive. Wouldn’t you rather I do the tasting?” He smirked.

Damn, I was literally itching to punch him in the jaw.

“Why can’t everyone just be nice and get along?”

He groaned into his hands and stood. “Maybe I will wait outside.”

“You do that.”

He walked to the door and then stopped. “Has anyone made fun of you today?”

“Is this a trick question?” I asked, jumping off Monroe’s bed. “You make fun of me all the time!”

“Other than me.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “Tell me the truth.”