Page 570 of Filthy Elites

I know he’s on the football team, but I’m not great at placing their names.

“Well, go do it somewhere else, whoever you are.”

“WhoeverIam?” he echoes, looking between me and Chase.

Chase laughs easily. “She’s stayed on the periphery of things.”

I’m not letting him get away with this bullshit. “You made me an outcast, shoving me into a metaphorical closest since September,” I remind him. “And that’s very much where I’d like to remain. Go away.”

The golden-brown, wavy-haired pretty guy next to me lifts a brow. I know that one: Camden Hunt. “You don’tlooklike an outlier. I bet you ran your old school.”

Once upon a time, maybe, but after last year, all I want is peace. “Believe it or not, some of us aspire to things beyond being kings and queens of high school in this shitty town.”

“What do you aspire to, then?” I sense genuine curiosity from Chase, which unsettles me.

“Immediately? Solitude.”

As they don’t seem inclined to leave, I get to my feet and grasp both sides of my tray.

Chase places his hands flat on it, pinning it down. “Sit, Erica.”

My teeth grind. “You see all those people looking at me right now? They’ll be tripping me, calling me names, spreading lies about me, in their attempts to get me away from you guys. The moment I’m alone, they’re going to make my lifemoreof a nightmare, all because you felt like slumming it today.”

“It sounds like I shouldn’t leave you alone, then,” Chase shoots back smoothly.

I groan. The boy is a nightmare. “Fine. Have it your way.” I just leave my tray behind, and walk out of the cafeteria.

ChapterTwenty-Three

I fightagainst my instinct to follow Erica. Last week I would have done it. I would have trailed her andmade herlook at me, touch me, feel me.

Fuck, my mother really messed with a good thing. I would give just about anything to go back to feeling like Erica owes me her attention, her time, her cunt if I want it. When I felt that way, I could push her without feeling like shit. And pushing her is the only way I can get her, make her admit that she wants me as much as I want her. Not with her mouth, but I was content getting my answer from the rest of her body.

But her mother’s not ruining my parents’ relationship. She might even be a decent woman, though the jury’s still out on that one. She’s spending most of her time with my father, content to leave her teen daughter alone almost every night. Audrey hasn’t yet made it off my shit list. But she’s not ravaging my world. That means that this thing between Erica and I is just that. Between Erica and I.

“You need a tissue?” Camden’s expression remains cold and indifferent. Empty. He might be the golden boy of Thorn Falls to the rest of the world, but he doesn’t waste his fake smile on us. “I feel you might need a tissue.”

I’d punch him if he wasn’t on the other end of the table. “Wait until we get to the football field and fuck with me again.”

He lifts one imperious brow. “Looks to me like you’re well and truly pussywhipped. Which is all the more pathetic for a guy not getting said pussy.”

I shoot him the finger.

“He doesn’t need a tissue.” Rhys leans in, smirking. I know what he’s going to say before he finishes. “He needs intel.”

The asshole did a fucking background check on Erica without my say so. When he told me last week, I was so certain I’d never ask for it. Now, I know better. My mother taught me knowledge is power.

“What do you have?” I hate giving in to the conceited asshole. He’s never going to let me live it down.

His smirk broadens into a smug grin as he pulls a thick, laminated red folder out of his bag. “Everything.”

* * *

I’m fascinated.I don’t even consider heading to PE, though I know Coach is going to ride my ass for missing cardio. I read the hundred-and-fifty-page folder, including testimonies, Rhys’s notes, tests, and old photos.

Erica Simons, born the seventh of September, eighteen years old. She had a birthday living in the brownstone. If Audrey mentioned it, my parents didn’t speak about it in front of me. I would have remembered. I would have done something. Probably mocked her about the fact that she had no one to party with. Come to think of it, it’s a good thing I didn’t know.

Erica saw a children’s psychiatrist early on because of her difficulties at school. It was determined that her IQ was off the charts, so she was bored in her classes. Her low grades were mostly due to severe dyslexia. Children learn to write and spell first, and spelling just wasn’t something shecouldget. The school accommodated her for a while, giving her computer software to help. She’s refused them since the start of high school, and despite that, has kept incredible grades in everything even remotely scientific. The subjects requiring wordy answers are another matter, but her transcript is still astounding. In fact, she only needs to pass one language and PE to graduate. Rhys’s notes include her midterm grades. I’d already noticed she was doing well in calculus. I just never thought that was because she was acing it effortlessly. Her Spanish grades still suck.

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