Page 82 of The Prince of Broken Crowns

“Do you ever smile?” I wonder as I jump off the final step and onto the asphalt.

Instead of answering, he rushes by me, his shoulder brushing against mine.

“Well, bye then!” I call out. “And you’re welcome for the numbers.”

He completely disregards me, quickening his pace and making a beeline for the trail that weaves through the trees. On the other side of those, frat and sorority houses line a narrow road. I wonder if he’s heading to one of those. Noah doesn’t seem like he’d belong in a frat, but who the hell knows?

Sighing heavily, I make my way toward the center of the asphalt, then turn around, watching as students and professors pour out of the buildings. The alarm is still screeching like a dumbass banshee that doesn’t realize she’s doing the wrong job. No one’s dying here, bitch, so shut up.

Speaking of bitches, a group of people standing about a handful of feet away are staring at me. Some are smirking, and others are glaring at me. One guy in particular, who has dark red hair, winks at me and blows a kiss. I’m unsure if this is because I’m a north-sider, but they’re lucky I don’t want to get kicked out of school. If someone did that to be back home, I’d throw down. But I need to be Proper Maddy or else get expelled.

“Why do you look like you’re about to bitch-smack a panda bear?” Finn moves up beside me, all blond hair and glittering bright blue eyes.

“That bitch is staring at me.” I flip the redhead my middle finger because it’s about all I can do.

Redhead’s smile fades, and he starts to step toward me when he notices Finn.

“Did you just call that guy a bitch?” Finn questions with an arch of his brow.

“Yeah, so?” I quip. “Guys can be bitches, too. I bet you are sometimes.” I toss him a smirk.

“You’re so feisty,” he retorts, mirroring my smirk. “Seriously, though, you want me to go talk to that guy? Get him to stop?”

“No. That’d be weird.” Giving the guy a dirty look, I turn my back on him and ignore the problem.

Finn matches my move. We’re facing the sun now, and he squints against the glaring light as he glances at me. “So, what has my bestie been up to these last couple of days?” he wonders while shielding his eyes from the sunlight with his hand. “I haven’t seen you since I brought you back to school the other day? Got into any more car chases?”

“Disappeared into any library walls?” I retort, eliciting a faint grin from him.

“Again with the feistiness.” He faces me, his gaze straying behind us then to me. “I think this might take a bit. You want to go sit out front and order some food?”

“I wouldn’t mind going and sitting down.” I reach down to massage my thigh. “My legs are killing me.”

His gaze drops to where I’m rubbing. “Why? What’s up?”

“Your brother is what’s up.” I grimace. “He kicked my ass today with hill climbs.”

“Ah, hill climbs. I remember those days.”

“You were on cross country?”

“Yep, freshman year. Totally hated it, hence the reason I was only on it for a year.”

“Then you switched to football?” I wonder as we wander across the rest of the asphalt and toward the grass.

He nods, sweeping his fingers through his blond locks. I swear to God, a few women passing by swoon at the move.

“I like football better,” he admits as he slows to stop underneath the shelter of a massive willow tree.

Branches canopy above and block out the sunlight, offering a bit of a wall against the cool breeze.

I drop my bag onto the grass then take a seat beside it. “How come you like it? I’m just curious.”

He sits down in front of me, stretches his legs out, then rests back on his hands. “I like that it’s a team effort. I like that it makes sense to me. I like that I’m good at it.”

I stretch one of my legs to the side, wincing from the pain. “I feel that way about running.”

He eyes me as I slant to the side. “What got you into running?”

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