Page 34 of The Prince of Broken Crowns

She chuckles as she reaches for the door handle. “We’ll stop by when we’re done so we can go to the party together. And no getting out of that,” she playful warns as she pulls open the door.

“She’s not going to get out of it.” Wren gently pushes her out of the door. “Now, come. Let the new girl get her homework done.” With that, Wren grabs the door handle and starts to pull the door shut.

When she smiles at me, I find myself mouthing, “Thanks.”

“No problem,” she mouths in return then closes the door.

I slump back into the sofa and release an exhausted noise that matches how I feel inside.

Day two here, and I’m already feeling the social class difference, but I knew this coming in and chose to be here.

That’s what I have to keep reminding myself of.

Since I actually don’t have much in the line of homework and need to eat, I get up, grab my phone, and head out of my room, toward the cafeteria. The place is empty, but the food, as I have learned, is wonderful. Like restaurant quality. I decide on pasta and garlic bread, grab a drink, and take my food with me as I wander back toward my room.

“You know, I think you might be the only person in this school who uses the cafeteria for dinner.” Finn falls into step beside me as I’m going through one of the quads.

“And your point is?” I question with an arch of my brow.

“There wasn’t really a point.” He stuffs his hands into his pockets and offers me what some girls probably think is a charming smile. “I was just trying to make small talk.”

“I bet you do that a lot.”

“What? Make small talk?”

“No, don’t have a point when you talk.” I bite back a smirk when his lips part in shock.

Then his shock morphs into a sputtering laugh. “You know, you’re probably right. I really do have a lot of pointless conversations.” He studies me as we veer down the hallway to my dorm room, tapping his lip with his finger. “I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone be such a smartass to me. It’s kind of refreshing.”

We reach my dorm room then and come to a stop.

“You think my smartass-ness is refreshing?” I cock a brow at him as I attempt to balance my food in one hand so I can dig my phone out of my pocket.

“I do … Here, let me help.” He takes the plate and drink from me before I can protest. “Most of the people who go here are fake—plastic. And what makes it even worse is that because of our last name, so many people kiss our asses. Not that I’m complaining that I have it that bad. I get my entitlement.” He grins at me.

“I never said anything about that.” But I was thinking it.

“You were thinking it, though,” he says, like he can read minds.

I hate that he can, at least with me. Typically, I’m not an open book, but more like a locked journal stuffed under floorboards, underneath a bed, in a dungeon.

His smile widens. “And now you’re wondering if I can read minds.”

I roll my eyes but have to bite back a smile. “That’s not what I was thinking.”

“Liar,” he teases as I scan my code and the door beeps open.

“Maybe I am a liar. Maybe not.” I take my plate and cup from him. “You’ll probably never figure it out.”

“Actually, I don’t think you’re a liar. In fact, I think you might be the most honest person I know.”

“I’m really not.”

“We’ll see,” is all he says.

Resisting another eye roll and potential smile, I step over the threshold and into my room, lifting my foot to kick the door shut. But he places his hand against it, stopping me.

“I actually have a question for you.”

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