Page 19 of Cruel Legacy

“No, um, I mean you can’t sit there, because it’s intheirterritory.”

“Whoseterritory?”

“The fraternities, sororities, and organizations. Basically, all the popular and powerful people. This is the area where they all sit.”

She points to the left. “The jocks and cheerleaders sit there.” And sweeps her arm right. “And the entertainers and social media influencers sit there.”

Then she points to another table. “The Trium sit there. They each have their own tables, and if you’re not a member or a prospective member, you can’t sit on this side. Didn’t you see the rope?”

“There was no rope.”

She points and I turn to look behind me. There’s a red rope coiled on the floor under the next table. “Looks like they forgot to put it back when they cleaned. At any rate,” she says, looking over her shoulder as if she expects someone to jump out at us. “We can’t sit here.”

She looks really spooked, and I’m too hungry to argue with her, so I pick my tray up and move to another table. “Is this good?”

She gnaws on her lip, then nods. But she doesn’t look any less stressed. “What’s wrong with this one?”

“Nothing. It’s closer to them than I usually sit, but it’s not off limits.”

“Great.” I plop down and take a sip of my liquid energy. With this girl I’m gonna need it. “So listen, you wanna tell me your name before you interrupt any more of my breakfast hour?”

“Oh!” She looks away with a nervous giggle. “I didn’t introduce myself. Did I?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I’m Layla-Jean Breland.”

“Thea.” I thrust my hand out, which she takes, giving it a tentative shake. I bite into my toast and ask, “What’s your deal?”

“My deal?”

“You singled me out in front of the auditorium this morning, and now you’re sitting here. Are you this friendly with every stranger you meet?”

“Oh. Uh. Not usually. No.”

“So, how did I get to be so unlucky?”

Her face falls. Agh,shit. I wasn’t trying to make her feel bad. It’s just the way my brain works. I’m sarcastic as fuck, and I forget not everyone can relate to it. I’ve gotten so used to Sasha understanding my personality.

“Hey. I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m grateful you stopped me from sitting at the other table.”

“You are?”

“Sure. I don’t usually care about pissing people off, but I don’t need the drama today, so thank you.”

She beams at me like I just made her year. It makes me uncomfortable. I don’t like being responsible for anyone's feelings but my own. But here I am, getting ready to try thisnew thingcalled being social, because Sasha said I can’t spend the next two years living like I’m on an island of one. I disagree. I can totally survive on my own. Been doing it damn near my whole life. But I promised. To try. This is me,trying.

I’m half listening as Layla tells me about herself, and what she’s majoring in. I follow the conversation enough to ask the appropriate questions, but I’m also watching the room. That’s how I’m the first one to spot the three amigos when they walk in.

Since I’m no longer in fight mode, and don’t have the sun glaring in my eyes, I can finally get a good look at them.

The leader, Paxton, has massive shoulders. Like he spends all his time doing shoulder shrugs in the gym. Or maybe it’s the way they’re hunched up to his ears, like he’s trying to distance himself from the world. Who knows? I’m spit balling his height, but I’d say he’s about six feet. Six one if I’m being generous. His dark hair is styled to perfection, and his boots look like they’ve been spit shined for a military inspection.

His eyes are the most alluring thing on him. Jade green like this ring I saw once. When he turns and his face catches the light, I get a glimpse of some blue in them. They’re aquamarine, like the dual colors of the sea. That’s hot. I can totally picture myself staring into eyes like those while riding someone like a bronco at the rodeo. Too bad they belong to him.

The guy next to him. Holden? He’s a little shorter than Paxton, but still tall as fuck. That means I need to reassess my height assessment. I’d definitely put Holden at six one, giving Paxton another inch on him.

Holden’s mouth is the first thing I notice. Or rather, the shiny lip ring he’s wearing is the first thing I notice. The one in his eyebrow is next. He’s got dark brown hair, cut close on the sides, a little longer on the top. His skin is flawless. A dark natural tan, and his eyes are storm cloud gray.

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