Page 247 of Filthy Elites

I crack a smile, opening the booklet. “No, I’m just a slacker. I ran out of time to do my homework last night and need to prepare for my next class.”

“Should’ve told me. I could’ve alerted my nerd army and had a briefing ready for you this morning.”

“You have so many connections,” I say, shaking my head as my eyes scan a page before I flip to the next.

“Yep.” His tone is teasing. “Do you find that sexy?”

“Yes, actually.” Before he can make a fuss about my admission, I look over at him and ask, “Any news about my car?”

His expression playfully somber, he says, “Another good news, bad news situation.”

“Why is it taking so long to replace tires? The guy I called said it could be done the same day. I could have literally waited in their waiting room and driven the car home.”

“It will definitely be done tomorrow,” he promises. “You have my word.”

I sigh. “All right. Well, do you mind giving me another ride home?”

“Nope.” He stands, startling me by grabbing the lunch bag I didn’t even get a chance to open yet.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m hungry. Let’s go out to eat.”

“Like, leave the premises?”

“That’s the idea.”

I look around uncertainly, but close my book and shove it and my phone back into my purse before standing. “I don’t usually leave school for lunch. Are you sure we’ll make it back in time for our next classes?”

“Live a little, mermaid.”

I’m startled as he reaches down and takes my hand. My heart flutters as he leads me out of the cafeteria, with fear that someone noticed and… something else.

I tell myself it’ll be fine as he hauls me out to his car. I’ve never paid attention since I’m usually doing homework at lunch, but maybe he and his friends go out for lunch all the time.

The car is an oven when we get in, so I expect him to turn on the air conditioning. He rolls down the windows instead. My hair blows like crazy when he picks up speed. I laugh as it whips my face, and he looks over at me with a smile.

We head toward the beach, but there are a lot of restaurants and hotels that way, so I figure that’s why.

We pull into the driveway of a place called Underworld. The owner must be a mythology buff because the sign has three dogs guarding the blue neon letters, like the three heads of a Cerberus guarding the gates of the underworld.

“You been here before?” Dare asks as he climbs out of the car.

I climb out too and close the car door. Smoothing down the short skirt, I say, “Nope.”

He nods, then leads me inside. He tells the hostess we want a table on the beach. She grabs two menus and leads us through the restaurant and back outside.

“Can I get you started with something to drink?” she asks once we’ve taken our seats.

“Yeah, can we both get a Malibu mango sunrise and glasses of water?” Dare says, causing me to blink at him a few times.

“Sure.” Her eyes narrow good-naturedly. “Can I see ID?”

His eyebrows rise like he’s surprised she’s even asking, but he says, “Sure,” and leans forward to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. I watch as he hands her what must be a fake ID because she looks at it, thanks him, and hands it back. Her gaze shifts to me, but before she can ask, he says, “You know what? Can you also put in an appetizer order? We’d love some spinach and artichoke dip, but we’re meeting with the interior decorator at our new place in about an hour. I’d hate to keep her waiting.”

Uncertainty flickers across her face, but he sounds so sure of himself as he casually utters that absolute bullshit, she decides he’s probably telling the truth and nods, turning away to go put in our order.

Dare leans back in his seat and smirks over at me.

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