“What the hell do you want?” she snaps.
Her hands are on her hips and she looks ready to come over and kick my ass. Fortunately, I already know I can hold my own with her. We threw down, literally, just a few weeks into classes.
“Just wondering who you ate for breakfast,” I answer sweetly.
“Freshmen, of course.” She smirks at me. “Don’t you know? I like them young and tender and weak.”
“Of course you do. Anyone strong would scare the shit out of you.” Which is why Jordan doesn’t like me.
“You know what would scare the shit out of me? Climbing into bed with a murderer.” Tossing her long dark hair over one shoulder, she walks over to her gym bag and pulls out a water bottle. “Or are you so jaded from all the guys you’ve slept with that normal ones don’t turn you on anymore?”
“You wanted him before,” I remind her.
“He’s rich and hot and supposedly has a good dick. Why wouldn’t I want him?” Jordan shrugs. “But unlike you, I actually have standards. And unlike the Royals, my family is actually respected around these parts. My father has won awards for his philanthropy. My mother heads up half a dozen charity committees.”
I roll my eyes. “What does that have to do with you wanting Reed?”
She scowls. “I just told you—I don’t want him anymore. He’s bad for my image.”
A laugh pops out. “You’re saying all this as if you and Reed hooking up is actually a possibility—which it isn’t. He’s not interested in you, Jordan. Never has been, never will be. Sorry to burst your delusional bubble.”
Her cheeks flush. “You’re the delusional one. You’re screwing a killer, sweetie. Maybe you should be careful. If you make him angry, you might be the next person in the coffin.”
“Is there a problem?”
Mr. Beringer, the headmaster of Astor Park, appears out of nowhere. Even though he’s all bluster—I’ve seen Callum pay this guy off more than once—I still don’t want to make any waves.
“Not at all,” I lie. “I was just admiring Jordan’s form.”
He eyes me suspiciously. The last time he saw us together, I’d taped Jordan’s mouth shut and paraded her, bloody nose and all, in front of the school.
“I see. Well, perhaps you can do that another time,” he says in a clipped voice. “Your father is here. You’re being excused for the day.”
“What?” I blurt out. “But I have classes.”
“Your father?” Jordan echoes in disbelief. “Isn’t he supposed to be dead?”
Crap. I forgot she was here. “It’s none of your business.”
Jordan stares at Beringer, then at me, and then collapses on the gym floor, laughing so hard she needs to wrap her arms around her stomach.
“Oh God! This is amazing,” she gasps between giggles. “I can’t wait to see the next episode where you’re pregnant but we don’t know if it’s Reed’s or Easton’s baby.”
I scowl at her. “Every time I start thinking of you as a human being, you have to ruin it by opening your mouth.”
The headmaster directs a glare at my nemesis. “Ms. Carrington, this behavior is completely uncalled for.”
Beringer’s reprimand only makes her laugh harder.
Visibly clenching his teeth, he takes my arm and guides me away from the doorway. “Come along, Ms. Royal.”
I don’t correct him about my last name, but I wrench my elbow out of his grip. “I’m serious. I have classes.”
He bestows a smarmy smile on me, the kind he probably gives to old ladies when he asks them for a donation to the Astor Park endowment. It says that he’s doing me a favor. “That’s all been taken care of. I’ve informed your teachers that you’ve been excused. And you won’t even need to make up your coursework.”
Yup. He thinks he’s doing me a favor. “What kind of bullshit school are you running if you can just excuse a junior from classes and not have her do the makeup work?”
His already thin lips flatten in a disapproving line. “Ms. Royal. Just because your father has returned from the dead doesn’t mean you can mouth off to me like that.”
“Give me a thousand demerits, then,” I mock. Or maybe I’m pleading. “I’ll serve them today.”
He simply smirks. “I don’t think I will. It sounds like you’re already serving a punishment.”
Seriously, I hate everyone in this school. They’re the worst. I wonder what Beringer would do to me if I just refused to walk out the front doors. Would the police show up and drag me away?
The headmaster stops at his office and tips his head down the hall toward the lobby. “Your father is waiting.” He gives a slight shake of his head. “I don’t understand why you aren’t excited to spend time with him. You’re a strange girl, Ms. Royal.”
With that, he disappears into his office, as if he doesn’t want to spend one more moment with the weird kid who doesn’t want to see her father.