Page 16 of Princess of Hawthorne Prep

“Any day now,” Mom mutters, tapping her foot.

“Sorry.”

Before I can reach her side, she swings away, stalking to the entrance of the sprawling stone building. We pass pockets of students talking and joking with one another. My face heats as they turn and glance my way. Smirks simmer across their faces as they point and stare at their phones before flashing the screens at their friends and laughing. A couple guys shoot sly looks my way before elbowing the person next to them.

I haven’t taken more than a handful of steps on school property and already I know every single student at HP has salivated over the photographs.

If I didn’t realize it before, I do now—today will be a total nightmare.

Mom’s brows pinch together as she frowns. From the side of her mouth, she mutters, “Is it my imagination, or is everyone staring?” One hand flutters over her skirt to smooth out the nonexistent wrinkles. “Do I have something on me? Is my hair sticking up?”

“No. You look fine.”

There’s no way I’ll make it through the morning without someone bringing the pictures to her attention. And then…

I wince, not wanting to imagine her reaction.

“Hmmm.”

It’s a relief when she remains silent before hustling up the wide stone stairs to the set of double doors and slipping inside. My steps slow as I reach the entrance. Even though I feel dozens of eyes crawling over me in the parking lot, I’m loath to enter the building. The daunting realization that the entire day is stretched out ahead of me brings a sharp pinch to my belly.

Mom throws a glance over her shoulder as she holds open the door. “I need to get to the office. I’ll see you after school. And remember, you’re grounded. No staying after and no friends.” Her voice turns stern. “Andcertainlyno Austin Hawthorne.” Her face scrunches as if she’s spotted something grotesque.

I almost snort.

There’s nothing for her to worry about on that front. I reached out at least half a dozen times over the weekend and he never responded, which is a pretty clear indication of where things stand between us.

It’s obvious he believes the worst in me and is unwilling to hear my side of the story.

“Okay.”

With one last steely look aimed in my direction, she swings away before getting swallowed up by the crowd in the hallway and disappearing. Now that I’ve been left to my own devices, I hunch my shoulders and lower my head before moving through the thick press of bodies. A growing wave of whispers and giggles ripples in my wake.

I wish the shiny black and white marble floor would open and swallow me whole.

“Hey, Delilah,” Aiden Wendt yells, his voice echoing off the paneled walls, “you look hot on your knees. Any chance I can get in on the action? Is there a rotation or request form I can fill out?”

My gaze collides with his smirking one before I rip it away and stare down at the floor, moving as quickly as I can through the hallway. More questions and comments are shouted as I pass by.

They’re impossible to ignore.

It’s a relief when I finally reach my locker. My fingers tremble as I spin the dial. It takes four attempts at the combination before the metal door pops open. I just need to grab my books, and then I can get the hell out of here. The corridor is like shark-infested waters and I’m bleeding out.

For a few brief seconds, I consider ditching school. I could walk right out the front entrance and never return.

I glance longingly toward the exit.

It’s so tempting.

Except, it would only exacerbate the situation at home. Tears prick the backs of my eyes as I resign myself to the next eight hours of hell.

When a shadow falls over me, I steel myself for the inevitable. I know who it is without looking.

“What do you want?” I growl, trying to mask the quiver that weaves its way through my voice.

When the question is met with silence, I force myself to meet his gaze head-on.

Deep down, I knew that when we broke up, Jasper would make my life miserable, but I never imagined he would stoop so low.

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