Page 15 of The Prince of Broken Crowns

I mean, I’m trying not to judge, but I have this feeling I’m going to draw attention, and not in a positive way. Not that I give a crap. If I can survive northside, my mom and my dad, then I sure as heck can survive going to a school with a bunch of rich kids. I have to if I want to get to a better place in my life.

I slide the strap of my backpack onto my shoulder then dig my card out of my pocket to pay the driver. Once the transaction is complete, I collect my other two bags, shove open the door, and move to get out.

“Good luck,” the driver says snidely as I lower my feet to the pavement.

I resist an eye roll and climb out without responding. The moment I bump the door shut, he drives away, and I’m left standing at the gated entrance, staring up at the stairway on the other side.

I’m fairly early, so not too many people are around, but I immediately get confirmation on my original speculation that I’ll draw attention.

I have a pair of sunglasses on, my hair is down in waves and swept to the side, and my gray top reaches mid-stomach. My wide-leg jeans are in style and everything, but they’re also frayed at the bottom, and my platform sneakers are faded. I don’t think I look bad or anything, but the people around me are dressed in nice, expensive clothes, and it’s evident that I don’t fit in here.

But, like I said before, I’m not backing out of this deal. So, squaring my shoulders and lifting my chin, I step onto the sidewalk and head toward the iron gate. Between the three bags I’m hauling around, I struggle to get up the stairs.

“You look like you could use some help.” The upbeat voice carries a hint of amusement in it.

When I glance up to see who spoke to me, I immediately grimace.

Finn—aka, the blond guy I saw in jail—is standing a step above me, looking like some sort of Greek god with the sunlight casting across his back and creating a halo of light around him.

Great. The last thing I need is for some guy who saw me in jail to be here, talking to me. Not that I’m that surprised. Even when he was in jail, wealth flowed off this guy.

“I’m good,” I assure him, resisting another eye roll when he grins at me.

I start up the stairs again, trying to look more relaxed than I feel.

The dude turns and follows me. “You don’t look like you’re good. In fact, you look like your legs are going to buckle.” He reaches for one of my bags. “Here, just let me help.”

“Hard pass, dude,” I say as I sidestep him. Then I narrow my eyes. “And don’t just grab my shit without me giving you permission.”

Usually, when I throw attitude at someone like this, they get annoyed. Nope, Finn’s smile broadens as he flashes me his pearly whites.

“All right, fair enough,” he says while stuffing his hands into the pockets of his pants.

Before he can open his mouth again, I start walking up the stairs, and much to my dismay, he follows. I try to ignore him, but he’s intent on running his mouth.

“You know,” he says as we near the top of the stairs, “after our first meeting, I honestly thought we’d never see each other again. I guess wishes do come true.”

I throw him a gaping look. “Are you for real right now?”

“What?” He bats his eyelashes innocently at me. “I’m just telling the truth. The night after we met, I made a wish on a shooting star that I’d get to see the beautiful jail girl at least one more time.”

“Oh my God, please, do not call me that,” I hiss under my breath.

Too many people are already staring at me. The last thing I need is for word to get out that I was in jail a handful of days ago.

“No one’s going to care that you’ve been in jail. But if you want me to keep it a secret, I will.” He gives a short pause. “Although, I’m curious why you were in there.”

“Why? Because I look like someone who’s never been arrested?” I reply, my voice oozing sarcasm.

He chuckles. “Yeah, there’s no way I’m going to answer that question. It’s like walking straight into a trap.” He scratches his wrist. He’s wearing a watch that looks like it costs five times as much as everything I own, if not more. “I’m honestly just curious as to why you were there.”

We reach the top of the stairs, and I dig out my phone to open the map I downloaded of the school. “Why were you there?” I challenge, flicking a glance in his direction.

His smile is all Cheshire cat. “I’ll show mine if you show me yours.”

“Hard pass.” I direct my attention to my phone and the map on the screen. It’s overwhelming to look at, with all the paths of sidewalks, the roads, the hallways, the corridors.

“I can show you around, if you need me to,” Finn offers then extends his hand toward me. “I’m Finn, by the way.”

---