Page 9 of Envy

I swallow the pain. Forcing my tears down.

Garret stands. Grabs a set of clothes from the dresser.

“You figured me all out,” I say, voice flat.

He tosses me a sweatshirt and sweatpants. I pull them on, the fabric soft against my skin. They smell like him.

It’s a shame. I’ll have to burn them.

I stareat the lettuce sticking out of my sandwich, the edges turning brown from sitting out too long.

I haven’t touched it. I’m sitting in the far corner of the cafeteria—the only seat far enough from anyone else.

Another twenty minutes until my next class. I keep my gaze down, but I can feel the stares. It’s been like this all week. And every time I hear someone bring up Garret—Kenyan’s richest student. Senior. Gorgeous. Star of the swim team.I turn and head in the opposite direction.

I don’t want friends. There’s no such thing when you’re Prey. Especially after everyone heard about the fallout between Melody and me. How I’m not in their circle anymore. How I’m adopted but don’t have the right bloodline. Why I’m in the dorms instead of a mansion.

The table shakes. Someone just sat down. I should leave before?—

“Hey.” A male voice.

I pretend I didn’t hear.

“Hey.” I look up. Intense brown eyes. A grin, the kind that makes his top lip thinner than the bottom. I don’t know him. But apparently, he knows me. “You’re Rose, right?”

Laughter pulls my attention to the right. A group of seniors. I can tell by the way they carry themselves. Not Prey. Rich. The kind of troubled kids you don’t send to Harvard. The kind yousend to an Ivy League school built for the one percent. Some say it wasn’t built, but found.

I recognize some from Babylon—the off-campus hangout.

The two blondes and one brunette. Their skirts are so short that if they bend an inch, they will reveal what type of panties they’re wearing, if at all—fall weather in Ohio be damned.

When the blondes shift, the brunette leans in. Her sultry smile practiced, perfect. She pulls her sweater low, the neckline dipping.

Her breasts push together, aimed at one target.

Garret.

He stares. Not interested. Not disinterested. Just watching. Her lips move, but he barely listens. He tilts his head. Like he’s deciding something.

“That’s Cassie.”

Almost forgot someone was sitting across from me.

“I’m Luke.”

I don’t respond. Cassie licks her blood-red lips. Garret smiles. Something twists inside me. I don’t want him. I hate him. Right?

“They hook up sometimes,” Luke says, watching me. “Garret gets around.”

My eyes stay locked on him and Cassie. They have chemistry.

Luke shifts. “Do you know Garret?”

I rip my gaze away, meeting his stare. Like he just asked if I’m friends with a celebrity. “No.”

Luke lowers his voice. “You like him, don’t you?”

I scoff.

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