Page 262 of Filthy Elites

I’m doing an okay job until I hear soft footsteps on the grass behind me. I turn, half-expecting to see a teacher who just noticed I’m outside telling me I’m not allowed to be out here, but it’s not a teacher.

A petite blonde girl with her hair pulled back into a pony tail approaches, her full pink lips pulled up in a smile. She’s carrying a lunch bag with her.

I don’t know who she is, so I’m extremely confused when she suddenly kneels on the ground beside me.

“Hello,” she says.

She has a lovely voice.

Still frowning, I offer a guarded, “Hello,” back.

She sets the lunch bag down and unzips it, her gaze focused on unpacking it, apparently. “I thought you might be hungry. This is my lunch, but you can have it. I’ll just go through the lunch line and get something.”

Embarrassment creeps up on me. “I don’t need your lunch. I can afford my own.”

“I know,” she says, her tone light since she can probably tell I’m defensive. “But I thought maybe you didn’t want to go in the cafeteria because of…” She trails off, not wanting to explicitly refer to the social media posts.

Oh.

She has seen them.

Of course she has.

It seems like everyone has.

Still a little untrusting, I look at her. “Who are you? I don’t think we have any classes together. You’re just offering your lunch to a complete stranger?”

“My name’s Hannah. We don’t have any classes together. I’m actually a junior. This isn’t my lunch period, it’s my study hall, but I’ve been seeing the things Anae and her friends have posted about you all day, and I think it sucks. I don’t know if you saw, but they posted another story through the window of you sitting out here.” She points back at the window into the cafeteria. “They were pretty proud to have chased you out of the building. When I saw it, I fibbed and told the teacher I needed to pee so I could go to my locker and grab my lunch.” She looks down. “I just thought people were being really mean to you, and I didn’t want you to be hungry just because you didn’t feel like being around them.”

My walls come down, my gaze shifting to the dish of fruit she’s opening for me. “That’s really kind of you, but you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” she insists. “It’s not a big deal at all. Like I said, I can just buy lunch today.” She opens a little container and looks inside. “You’re not allergic to nuts, are you? This is a banana nut muffin.”

My mouth waters. “That sounds amazing. No, I’m not allergic.”

She flashes me a smile and hands over the container. “I hope you like it. I made them myself.”

Since she seems to be waiting to see if I do, I sink my teeth into the moist, fluffy muffin, and my tastebuds explode with happiness. It’s probably only because I’m so hungry anything would taste good, but my God, this is the best muffin I’ve ever tasted.

“Oh my god,” I say, covering my mouth.

Her big blue eyes widen. “Is it bad? I just made them this morning, they should be really fresh.”

I shake my head, chewing and swallowing the mouthful of deliciousness. “Will you marry me?”

Startled, she bursts into laughter.

I grin back, meeting her gaze. “No, I’m not kidding. If it means you will make these muffins for me all the time, I wanna lock you down.”

Delighted, she laughs again. “I’m glad you like them. I’ve never had them trigger a spontaneous proposal before.”

“Then you’re giving them to the wrong people,” I tell her. “I’m more of a cook than a baker myself, but I’m tempted to beg for your recipe so I can try to make these at home.”

“You can have it,” she says easily. “It was my mom’s recipe. I’ll type it up over the weekend. I can give it to you Monday morning when I get my lunch bag back.”

“You’re an angel on earth,” I tell her, looking over at the delicious assortment of fruit she’s given me, too. “What did you say your name was again?”

“Hannah.” Her kind blue eyes flash with something that resembles guilt and she looks down. “I’m actually Anae’s stepsister.”

---