Page 2 of Spearcrest Knight

“Sophie, Sophie, Sophie,” Luca says, looming over me. “Put that pen down.”

I hold both the pen and the clipboard up as a sign of capitulation. “Right, right, okay. Just go on in.”

“You better hope my name doesn't end up on the detention register,” Luca continues, leaning down so his face is right in front of mine. "Or we're going to be very upset with you."

I hate having my personal space invaded. I hate it more than anything else. I try to suppress my anger, though, because I’m not stupid. I know he’s waiting for me to slip up.

“Okay, Luca,” I say, looking down.

He pats my head.

“Good girl, good girl.”

“Come on, Luca,” Evan Knight calls. He’s leaning against the doorway, hands in his pockets. His loose sandy curls fall over his forehead, his blue eyes fixed on me. “She’s not worth your time.”

This time, I look up. I meet his gaze, hatred burning through me.

Because no matter how much I hate the Young Kings of Spearcrest, it’s Evan Knight I hate the most. He might have everyone fooled with his crooked grin, his natural athleticism and his care-free laughter.

In reality, it’s all a facade, a perfect illusion. I should know.

I used to be his friend.

Evan

It’sbeentwowholemonths since I’ve last seen Sophie, and she looks completely different than I remember. For some reason, in my memories, she always looks like she did when we first met in Year 9. Brown hair in pigtails, spotty cheeks, feet slightly too big for her body.

Back then, she used to stick out like a sore thumb. It was so easy to tell she wasn’t from money, that she was… normal. Common as they come.

Now, she looks more Spearcrest than she would care to admit. With her impeccable uniform, those shiny badges on her blazer lapel. Her long, straight hair parted in the middle, her thick-framed glasses. She’s not so spotty anymore, and she grew from the feet up. She’s one of the tallest girls in our year.

That’s probably why I can’t stop staring at her.

I don’t even hear a word Mr Ambrose says. I just stare at Sophie in a mixture of fascination and curiosity.

She’s holding her clipboard propped against her long legs, her eyes stuck firmly to it. I remember when she used to glare in the face of anybody who dared look down on her, how she used to pick fights with anyone that made her feel small.

Now, she’s tall and striking, but she never looks anybody in the eyes. She just keeps her head down and glides in the background of Spearcrest like a ghost.

When Mr Ambrose tells her to put our names down, there’s a tiny flash of panic on her face. She knows the consequences of Mr Ambrose’s words will be hers to face. Unlike Mr Ambrose, she has no authority to keep her safe from us.

In fact, the moment Mr Ambrose goes inside, she assures Luca she’s not going to write our names down.

For some reason, my stomach churns. It’s not like I didn’t work hard over the years to put out the fight in her. So now she’s so easily defeated, where is the sense of triumph I’ve been waiting for?

Then Luca’s face is right against Sophie’s, and the churning in my stomach turns to spikes of ice, almost painful. A brutal instinct roars through me, makes me want to grab Luca by the neck and yank him away from her. I can’t stand him getting close to Sophie.

I can’t stand anybody getting close to her.

“Come on, Luca. She’s not worth your time.”

She looks up then, for the first time. Her eyes are so dark they look black, but they are actually a soft, hazelnut brown. In sunlight, they are almost limpid, like dark honey.

But right now they are just dark. Dark and hard and full of hate.

A hot flame of triumph leaps in my chest. My blood pumps through my veins when her gaze collides with mine. The sharp, defiant look in her eyes makes me want to go toe-to-toe with her, to fight her to the death.

It makes me want to rip everything that separates us just so I can rip into her.

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