The gates of Eastwick Academy don't just close behind me- they slam, like they know I'm already planning my escape.
I yank at my thrift-store blazer- secondhand wool that smells like mothballs and desperation, sleeves rolled up like I'm pretending I meant to look this grunge-chic.
My skirt's size too big (scholarship budget, baby), held up by a safety pin that's one tug from total wardrobe failure.
Around me? Total rich-kid fever dream: marble fountains spitting perfect arcs, kids tumbling out of cars that cost more than my entire existence, uniforms so crisp they could cut glass.
My scuffed loafers squeak on the polished stone like they're apologizing for me.
Cue the Bentley- silver, sleek, screaming daddy's money. Out steps him. Cassian Vale (or close enough, whispers will confirm)
Messy dark hair like he rolled out of a photoshoot, tie half-undone because rules are optional when you're hot-
"Fuck!" My backpack snags on the fountain edge.
I lurch forward, arms windmilling, and slam straight into his chest.
We crashed- my chin smacking his collarbone, his blazer catching my hair, the whole courtyard gasping like I just lit the place on fire.
I bounce off, skirt twisting, safety pins pings free.
"Shit, shit…"
I scramble back, skirt hiking up face burning as I yank it down.
He doesn't move. Doesn't help. Just stares down with those cold grey eyes, lips curling into ice.
"Watch it, scholarship."
"Rude, much?" I snap, planning my hands on my hips even as my skirt's still half-tangled and my face burns nuclear.
The crowd's laughter hits like shrapnel, but fuck if I'm letting him win that easy.
He pauses… pauses… one eyebrow arched like I'm the entertainment.
Those cold grey eyes rake over me: skirt disaster, thrift-blazer rebellion, safety pin glinting like a middle finger.
"Problem, scholarship?"
"You bet there's a problem, bitch!"
Cassian gasps, a sharp inhale that slices through the chaos, while everyone else in the courtyard freezes… wide eyes locking on me like I just pulled the pin on a grenade.
Cassian's hand shoots out, fingers clamping my arm like a vice as his grey eyes blaze.
"You dare call me that, slut?"
I gasp, pain shooting up my arm from his grip, but fury downs it out as I yank back hard.
"Get your fucking hands off me, asshole!"
Cassian laughs… low, cruel, like I've just handed him his morning entertainment.
"You think you can outrun me? Outsmart me? Think again, scholarship girl… you don't know who you're dealing with."
"Same with you," I fire back, yanking my arm free and throwing my hands out wide like I'm owning the whole damn courtyard. "Do you think I'm like all these girls? No… or they wouldn't have the guts to do this, to act like this!"
"You think you're the queen, then, well, queen bee? Prove it… because right now, you're just a loud scholarship girl about to get stung."
"Stung how?" I demand, voice sharp as I plant my feet, but Cassian just grabs my arms again… harder this time… and hauls me through the entrance of Eastwick Academy toward the lockers, the crowd parting like we're some fucked-up royal procession.
"Where are you taking me?" I demand, twisting hard to break free from his iron grip, but Cassian just drags me deeper past the entrance of Eastwick Academy towards the boys' lockers… an off-limits zone marked with stern "Girls Prohibited" sign that scream trouble.
"I'm not allowed back here!" I scream, digging my heels in, "Let me go!" But he doesn't even flinch, his fingers only tightening as he pulls me into the dim, echoing hallway lined with metal doors and the faint stink of gym socks.
He didn't speak once… just marched with purpose, jaw set like he owned every forbidden inch of this place, knowing exactly where he was headed.
We ended up deep in the boys' lockers, the air thick with chlorine and sweat, and he quickly pinned me to the cold tiled wall near the showers… his body caging mine, one hand braced above my head, the other still gripping mya rm like he dared me to move.
"You think you can tell me what to do?" he growled, breath hot against my face, lips so close I could feel the heat radiating off him. "Like I said, you don't know who you're dealing with."
"What makes you think you know who you're dealing with?" I shot back, chin jutting up even as my back pressed harder into the cold tile, his heat trapping me like a cage I refused to flinch from.
We weren't alone… his giggling fangirls had trailed us like hyenas, phones out and flashing like a paparazzi circus, whispering "Oh my god, is he gonna kiss her?" as they crowded the locker room doorway, turning our standoff into their personal live-action drama.
"You don't get to touch me… get off me!" I yelled, breaking free with all I had, shoving against his chest with everything in me as his fangirls' giggle turned to shrieks, phones still rolling out locker-room showdown like it was premium reality TV.
I hadn't even dragged my ass to the admissions office yet… still hadn't found the damn building… and here I was, already fucked, pinned in the boys' locker room by Eastwick's resident golden prick Cassian Vale, skirt half up my ass, his fangirls' phones flashing like seizure lights while they cackled "Is he gonna snap her?!"
"Where you are running off to, little thorn?" he chirped, all mocking-sweet like poisoned honey, grey eyes glinting as he blocked my escape, fangirls still shrieking and filming from the doorway.
"None of your damn business!" I yelled, ducking left then right, but he just sidestepped… smooth as a fucking panther… blocking my path completely, that smug thorn smirk still plastered on his face while his giggling hyenas filmed the whole shitshow.
"Oh, feisty… love that fire, scholarship rat," he drawls, all teeth and trash-talk, leaning in closer like he owns my fucking oxygen while his giggling phone-zombies cheer the chaos from the doorway.
I feinted right, then bolted left… ducking under his arm like a feral cat, skirt flapping wild, thrift-blazer flapping wilder… crashing straight through his shrieking fangirl pack at the doorway.
"Watch it, scholarship trash!" one hisses, sticking out a Louboutin heel… CLIP… I stumble hard, knee cracking tile, backpack spilling tampons and crumpled homework across the grimy floor while they cackle like hyenas, phones still rolling my total fucking wipeout.
"Fuck all y'all!" I snarl, scrambling up, snatching my shit mid-lunge… half a sandwich smushed under someone's sneaker… and sprinting down the hall, heart slamming, skirt riding up my ass, their laughter chasing me like a stink.
I finally stumble into the admissions office… disaster central, skirt still twisted up my crack, knee bleeding through ripped tights, tampons trailing from my exploded backpack like a slutty breadcrumb trail… SMACK… crashing right into some tweed-blazered admin lady who yelps and drops her coffee, splashing my already-ruined shoes while I mutter "Sorry… fuck… sorry" and trip over my own damn feet again, because apparently colliding with assholes is my new Eastwick superpower.
"Sit down," she demanded, pointing at the cracked vinyl chair like it was a jail cell, her tweed blazer now sporting my coffee carnage as she dabbed at it with a tissue, eyes narrowing at my whole hot-mess vibe.
"Here's your room assignment and roommate, kid… no choice, no swaps, not your call," she barked, slapping a crumpled schedule onto the desk, coffee stain creeping across the paper like it owned the place, her eyes daring me to argue while my knee throbbed and my skirt still screamed freshman walk-of-shame.
I stare down at the crumpled coffee-stained paper… holy fucking shit, Cassian Vale smirks back at me in tiny print as my goddamn roommate, heart slamming like a jackhammer while I screech inside, did these bitches plan this torture on purpose?
I look up at the lady, eyes bugging out.
"You've got to be kidding me… Cassian Vale?"
She sighs, pinching her noise. "You two met. Of course you did."
"Is this all some kind of joke?" I asked, voice cracking high as my bloody knee throbbed and the coffee-stained paper shook in my fist.
"No, it's part of how this clusterfuck housing system works here… random draws, no favorites, deal with it," she snapped, snatching the coffee-stained paper back while I was gonna burn it, her voice flat as the vinyl chair I was still half-sprawled in.
I stumble out of the office… schedule clutched like a death warrant… picturing Casian sprawled on my dorm bed, that smug smirk waiting, grey eyes daring me to snap again. Survive him first. Graduate later. Fuck my life.