Page 26 of Brutal Prince

Briar gives me another of his shark-like grins.

Holy crap. Tough crowd.

Maybe it’s because I was brave enough to stand up to their deviant Briar. I guess that kind of stuff just doesn’t fly around here, especially judging from that French teacher’s response.

“Now, who would like to volunteer to buddy up with Indi for the first week?”

Wait…what?

Too late, I realize I’m gaping at Ms. Parsons. And in that moment, I lose every chance of declaring myself unfit for supervision. I mean, shit, I’m seventeen, not seven.

“I’ll be happy to do her, Ms. Parsons.”

The class roars with laughter.

Ms. Parsons — idiotic flower child she is — doesn’t seem to notice Briar’s Freudian slip.

I do.

My eyes go wide. My chest tightens.

Briar has his hand up real fucking high. He’s wearing a grin that I can tell is both smug and weaselly, but one which Ms. Parsons seems to think is completely innocent.

“Why, Prince,” Ms. Parsons enthuses as she stands, a hand to her chest. “That’s marvelous.” She turns to me, and points between me and Briar as if this is some kind of special school where your IQ has to be in the single digits before you can even apply.

“Indi? Prince will be your Lavish Buddy this week. He’ll show you around and help you find all your classes.”

Briar grimaces at that, and there’s a moment where my utter panic flutters into pure ecstasy.

So I guess his first name’s Prince and — just like me — he despises it to the n’th degree.

But no one’s staring at him. Everyone is staring at me. And the weight of all those expectant eyes compels me to let out a reluctant, “Thanks.”

“Good.” Ms. Parsons claps her hands. “Time for announcements.”

I glare at the back of her head as she turns to get a clipboard from her desk. I bet bluebirds chirp around her head every morning when she wakes up, and she sings them a goddamn song about what a beautiful day it’s going to be.

Mentally, I do my darndest — but her hair simply fails to catch on fire.

“The chess club has had to reschedule this week’s tournament against Mallhaven High. A new date will be set…”

Briar stands up, and Ms. Parson’s voice fades away as my ears begin to buzz in dread anticipation. He weaves through the desks until he gets to the empty one behind me, and lets his bag fall before dropping his ass in the chair with an audible thump.

“Morning, my little virgin.”

I press my eyes closed. But, alas, along with the inability for me to set someone’s hair on fire, I seem to have lost my talent for time travel and teleportation as well.

“Fuck off,” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest and slouching in my chair as Ms. Parsons starts rattling off the names of the students who were accepted into some or other club.

“Hey, I’m your buddy.” The way Briar drawls the word makes my hair stand on end. “I got nothing but good intentions, Angel.”

I glance at him over my shoulder, but somehow he fails to see my scowl.

The cut I gave him last night should have looked horrible, like all puffy and gross and oozing and shit.

Nope. All it does is give his face a roguish charm it doesn’t need.

“Admiring your work?” His full lips curve up as he lifts a hand to finger the cut. He winces dramatically and inhales a hiss. “Buddies shouldn’t cut each other.”

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