Savage Royals: A Reverse Harem High School Bully Romance(10)

His gaze trailed from my face down to my toes in a slow perusal, and I could feel a flush creeping along my skin as my body reacted to his attention. He wasn’t exactly being subtle about checking me out, but it didn’t seem to bother him one bit that I knew what he was doing.

He tugged his full bottom lip between his teeth, sinking deeper into his chair as he spread his legs languidly, tapping the bottom of the desk in the row next to his with his foot. He’d loosened the tie of his uniform, and somehow he managed to make even the stuffy, uptight outfit look casual.

“Are we boring you, Mr. Whittaker?” Mrs. Gates called from the front of the class. “Eyes up here, please.”

He flicked his gaze up toward the front of the room briefly, but I got the distinct impression he didn’t do it because he had to. In fact, I got the impression Mrs. Gates couldn’t make this guy do much of anything if he didn’t want to—and not just because he was practically double her size. He had an air of easy confidence about him, as if the world had opened every door he’d ever stood in front of, and he had no doubt it would do so again and again.

Must be fucking nice.

I peeled open my book, flipping to the chapter number that was written on the whiteboard and following along as Mrs. Gates lectured. I didn’t look at the guy again, but I didn’t need to. Every time his gaze landed on me—and it happened quite a bit—I felt it, like a feather being dragged lightly over my skin.

When class finally let out, I made a break for it quickly, not wanting to give Mrs. Gates a chance to pull me up to the front and make me introduce myself or some shit like that. Not that she seemed too interested in that sort of thing. Everyone here was already a week into classes, and she clearly didn’t feel the need to slow down her lesson plan with “new student show and tell”.

And I’d been right about the curriculum being harder here.

This class was way ahead of where I’d been at Sand Valley High, and if all my classes were like this, I was going to have to kick my ass into gear to catch up—or at the very least, not fall any further behind.

Since I hadn’t actually made it to my first two classes, the next period after History was lunch. At least I knew where the dining hall was, thanks to Leah’s tour. I left my schedule tucked away in my bag, not wanting to look any more like a tourist and an outsider than I probably already did, and hiked across the quad toward the large cafeteria building.

It was done in the same style as all the other buildings in campus, with arched windows, white walls, and a red tiled roof. The look was actually starting to grow on me. Between that and the constant, relentless blue skies and sunshine, the whole place seemed to glow like it existed on some kind of ethereal plane.

I could understand why so many people from the fly-over states ended up making a break for the West Coast. It was fucking beautiful.

Wide steps led up to the dining hall entrance, and a sign out front declared it Astor Hall.

My stomach growled as I climbed the stairs. I’d been too nervous and distracted to eat breakfast before leaving my grandparents’ house, and now I was starving.

Like every other place at Oak Park, the dining hall was unnecessarily elaborate and luxurious. At its most basic, it was set up just like my old cafeteria—but in actual appearance, it didn’t look anything like that place. Food was served along one wall, and it looked like they either had it catered in or had some legit chefs on staff. There were dozens of options, including a full salad bar, and staff moved around the room, clearing trays from empty tables.

Shit, the diner wasn’t even this fancy or smoothly run, and people paid to eat there.

Then again, someone was paying for me to eat here too. Just because I didn’t get rung up after every meal didn’t mean the money wasn’t being spent.

I wondered for the first time what tuition to this place cost. Jacqueline hadn’t mentioned it, and I’d been too shell-shocked from everything else to ask. It had to be a small fortune.

There’d been no mention of me ever paying them back—and to be honest, there was no way I ever could—but the thought of someone spending that much money on me made me squirm. I hadn’t liked being the breadwinner in my family at sixteen, but at least when I was the one earning the money, I knew it was mine.

I earned it, and that was that.

No strings attached.

This money? Every bit of hospitality my grandparents had shown me? Yeah, I got the sense there were massive strings attached to all of it.

But those strings disappeared into dark corners, and I couldn’t see what was attached to the other end of them. It made me nervous and paranoid.

I blew out a breath. Just take it, Tal. Take the gift, like that social worker said.

The trays stacked on a rack near the door were polished metal rather than dingy orange plastic, and I grabbed one before getting into the food line. There was a lot to pick from, but I settled on something I knew well—a burger. It had some expensive-sounding ingredients I didn’t recognize, but I figured it would be safe enough. A burger is a burger, right?

Once I had my food and a drink, my gaze scanned the large room, searching for Leah. I’d hoped we’d be able to sit together so I could avoid the worst part about starting at any school. Lunch. It was always a nightmare, especially coming in late like this. Everyone was already paired off. The groups were picked, the cliques were established, and I was on the outside looking in. I sighed when I didn’t find her upbeat, friendly face in the crowd.