Page 553 of Filthy Elites

Leyland drones on for what feels like a day, and then surprises us with a test on nucleic acids, although we wrapped up the subject before the midterms. She's truly lost the plot.

The bell rings, and Iwait, as I was told. Leyland stares me down wordlessly until the last of the student hands in their paper and leaves. Then, I give her mine.

She takes it and immediately looks down at it, red pen uncapped. Her eyebrows knit, and her frown deepens as she scans through it.

"Another perfect score."I don't imagine her reluctance to admit it.

I wait for her to add something, because she clearly has something to say.

"Hundreds ofexcellent students have graced these halls, Ms. Simons, and do you know how many have historically been this consistent?"

Why does this sound like a critique? She says it like I'm to blame. I just shrug.

"None. In three months, you've never had anything but correct answers. Why is that?"

"I study?" I say.

That's not quite accurate, though. Studying her stupid textbook and listening to her boring lectures wouldn't get me far. I've just looked up the subjects we're studying ages ago.

"Mm-hmm. If you're somehow cheating, getting the answers early…"

Naturally she'd assume that. "If that were the case, how do you suppose I would have known we were having a surprise test, Mrs. Leyland?” I'm batting my lashes and smiling at the troll.

Her lips thin. "I'm watching you."

She dismisses me with a wave of her hand.

Gosh, I'm tired.

ChapterTwelve

Calculus and Spanishsuck as much as usual, but no one accuses me of cheating for my passable grades, so yay.

In the restroom, I stare at myself in the mirror long and hard, trying to see what they see. I see a heart-shaped face with a turned-up nose, a pouty mouth, big, round hazel eyes with endless eyelashes. My hair can look dark in spaces like the restrooms, but at the first ray of sunshine, I notice the red tint. I'm pretty. Not drop-dead gorgeous or anything, but pretty. More than that, I'm confident. I know exactly what I am: eighteen years old, with round perky tits and long legs. My life's ahead of me. I haven't done anything to completely ruin my future, like getting knocked up. I have every reason to hold my head high. Yet the world wants me to kneel. Everyone expects me to amount to nothing more than the side of the river I was raised in. Not just Mrs. Leyland: the kids from the science club, Chase.

Since the world is so consistent in its dismissal, the problem might start with me.

I take a paper towel, wet it, and wipe the lipstick from my mouth. I frown at my reflection. It’s not gone, as much as faded, but I don’t look much different. Just more vulnerable. That might be what the world prefers to see.

I shake my head and apply another dark layer before heading to the cafeteria. I’m famished. I didn’t get a chance to eat anything this morning. I pile my tray high, picking a salad, enchilada and sweetcorn, an apple, and a tarte Tatin.

At the counter, the lady ringing me up lifts an eyebrow. “That’s a fair bit of food.”

I press my phone against her card reader to pay. The school tuition includes one meal and one side, so when we want more, we have to pay for the difference—which seems highly ridiculous, given that this place costs five freaking figures per year.

The lunch lady’s probably waiting for a reaction on my part, but I ignore her entirely. I’m done being judged by assholes over nothing. I’m not allowed to be hungry now?

I spot a half-empty table and start to make my way over there, when I hear my name. My first reaction’s to stiffen, but from the corner of my eye, I see Bella waving at me, with a big smile.

She’s sitting with Rose and Oscar, and there’s a space right next to her. She pats it welcomingly, so I make my way over there, forcing a smile of my own.

“How's it going?” Rose is as friendly as ever, but I notice Oscar’s looking anywhere but at me, although I do sit right in front of him.

“I’ve had better days. I overslept.”

“Urgh, don’t you hate when that happens?” Bella winces. “I always feel out of sync for the rest of the day.”

“It doesn’t help that the harpy made you stay behind,” Rose commiserates. “What did she want?”

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