Page 27 of Cruel Legacy

“That’s impossible. It’s reserved for legacies.”

I pick my parfait back up and spoon out another scoop. “I don’t know about any of that.” I say, waving my spoon in the air. “Sounds like more bullshit and rumors, to keep people fawning after those assholes. My aunt and uncle paid my tuition and room and board. The school gave me a shiny key fob for all the doors, and it works. I’ve been entering and exiting and sleeping there for two weeks now.”

She still doesn’t look like she believes me, and not that I have anything to prove, but I decide to put her mind at ease. “When we’re done with breakfast, I’ll prove it to you.”

Chapter14

Holden

“Enchante.”

I roll my eyes at my French-speaking friend. Finn loves to pull out his language skills when he meets new girls, and they eat that shit up.

“The three of you, walking around campus, together. Now that’s not fair. There should be a rule about it. How am I supposed to decide which one of you to hook up with?”

They giggle and do various versions of hair flipping and trying to look seductive. If this were a contest, none of them would rank higher than a three on the originality scale.

“Isn’t it hard, Holden?”

The sophomores he’s talking to exchange nervous looks. They can relax. I’m not about to ask for their numbers. Why would I? In the five minutes we’ve been standing here, I haven’t heard any of them say one thing of value. I grunt a response, letting them take it any way they want.

When I was younger, I was told I talked too much about things other kids weren’t interested in. Now people think I’m weird, because I don’t talk. Sometimes, I thinktheythink Ican’ttalk, despite having the highest GPA in school. There’s nothing wrong with my ability to communicate. It’s everyone else’s limited knowledge about a vast range of topics and their lack of comprehension skills that’s the problem. So I’ve stopped trying to engage them in conversation.

I tilt my head towards the building, letting Finn know it’s time to get to class. We’re already later than I want to be, because he made me wait for him while he polished his favorite knife. Most of the students are already in their seats. His delay throws off my routine. Next time, he’s walking to class alone.

Finn grabs a seat closest to the window, and is staring out of it before I’m even settled in my chair on the opposite side of the room. We rarely sit together. Finn’s a talker and he knows I like complete silence when I’m working.

The door squeaks open, drawing everyone’s attention to the front of the room. Our new neighbor, Theona LaReaux, rushes in with seconds to spare. I was so lost in my head I didn’t even notice she wasn’t in class. Austin gives her a wave, which she returns before plopping down in the chair. Right. Next. To. Me. No one does that. The other students would rather sit on the floor to avoid having to be near me.

Theona’s fumbling around in her bag looking for something, cursing up a storm. I can honestly say I’ve never heard that string of profanity before from a woman. Maybe not even a man. It’s amazing how she uses fuck as a noun, adjective and verb. Finally, she stops muttering to herself and straightens in her chair.

We’re supposed to be following along with what Professor Roberts is saying in our workbook. This is one of the few classes where we have actual textbooks to use because the teacher wants to make sure we understand the work and aren’t relying fully on computers to get the answers. I’m glad she’s done. Her mumbling was distracting as hell. I’m engrossed in what the teacher is saying, which is why I don’t notice her leaning in until she bumps into me.

“Is there a reason you’re crowding my space?” I infuse every bit of annoyance I can into my voice. It’s not hard. Iamannoyed.

“Yes.” Her eyes flick to the front of the room to make sure Roberts isn’t watching us. “I was running late, and I left my workbook. I’m taking notes, but I need to see the example to understand what he’s talking about, and since he said work in teams to check each other’s work, I figured we’d do it together.”

I missed that part. Or ignored it, because nobody works with me. Except Finn and it’s usually via text, after I’ve explained the project or lesson to him.

I turn my head slightly, and ask, “You want me to team up withyou?”

Her violet-blue eyes narrow into slits, her irises constrict. Her pouty lips part. I can tell she’s pissed off before she even opens her mouth. “And what the fuck is wrong with me? Or does the little boys’ club you’re in not let women work with you? Is that against your club rules or something?”

She says it like it’s a tree fort and we’ve posted a sign that says no girls allowed. I have my reasons for wanting to work alone, none I’m willing or interested in sharing with her, and explaining fraternity and sorority dynamics to her isn’t my job. She can pick up a campus brochure and read all about it. She pushes the paper she was writing on towards me, and says, “I started the first equation.”

Does she not understand I’m saying no? Out of a morbid sense of curiosity, I look down to see how badly she butchered the problem. “You understand the lesson?” I look back up and wait for her answer. You can tell a lot about a person’s intentions by looking at their face and blocking out their words. Her features transform from an impenetrable fortress to a look of understanding.

“Of course. Um, I can explain it to you. I know probabilities can be hard in the beginning.”

I dismiss her offer to help. “I don’t need an explanation. I can do the work.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

I don’t need to prove anything to her or anyone else, but I like solving complex problems, so I pull out my pencil and work the next equation with her, watching over my shoulder the whole time, waiting for her to say something about my weird brain, and how I’m not doing it right, since I’m working the problem backwards. But she doesn’t. She just watches.

When I sit my pencil down, she’s staring at me with this weird look on her face. “You worked it out in your head?”

I press my molars together. Here it comes. She’ll ask me to do her classwork or homework in exchange for being her boyfriend. I fell for that scheme when I was in high school. It took me a minute to realize the dating part of the agreement wasn’t real.

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