“As if! Don’t flatter yourself!” she hisses.
“I don’t consider it particularly flattering.”
“You think because the teachers paired you up a handful of times? You think because you were forced to do helping hand duties? You think because they’ve spoken to you once or twice, they like you? You really are freaking clueless. It’s sort of sad. I’m guessing nobody has ever shown you any attention in the past, which is hardly surprising,” she says, looking me up and down with an expression of disdain. “Except that Andrew dude and he was so traumatized by the experience he hasn’t been seen since.”
Her mention of Andrew has me bristling and I try to walk away. She blocks my path.
“They’re not interested in a girl like you. They’ll never be interested in a girl like you.”
“Are you sure about that?” I ask, not even sure why we’re having this stupid argument.
I don’t like either of them. They may be hot – really hot – but they are also cruel, vain and arrogant. Even if the pull in my stomach means something – which I’m not convinced it can – I don’t care. I could never be with men like that.
It’s been hard enough forgiving and trusting Azlan. And Stone?
“Yes, absolutely certain,” Summer continues. “You don’t move in the right circles. You don’t come from the right family. You’ll never understand them. You’ll never know what it’s like to be one of us.”
“Such a shame,” I say in my best bored tone.
She ignores me. “They’re powerful, dangerous, raw. If you’d ever seen them fight you’d know that.”
“I’ve seen them fight plenty.” I caught the tail end of countless dueling practices during my time as helping hand to the team.
“No,reallyfight.” Her eyes glisten and I think of what Winnie told me earlier about the underground dueling club. “They need someone strong and powerful. A weedy little girl like you – sneaking off to cry in the bathroom – couldn’t handle men like them!”
“And I suppose you can?”
“I’m warning you, Pig Girl. Back off and leave them both the hell alone.”
“And they couldn’t tell me this themselves?” I ask.
“Tristan is too much of a gentleman and so is Spencer.”
I laugh again. Gentlemen? Has she actually spent any time in their company?
“Yeah, I think they’re anything but.” I chuckle.
“I’m telling you, as their girlfriend–”
“Their girlfriend?” I say, the amusement waning away, my stomach twisting instead. “You’re dating both of them?”
She smiles like a crocodile at me. “Oh, no. Has that shocked that little puritanical mind of yours? Yes. Both of them. Why not? They’re both hot. And so am I. So what if I’m sleeping with them both?”
“Don’t you feel used?” I spout out, unable to help voice my own fears.
“Used? No. I couldn’t choose between them and so I chose both, and I guess I’m so damn alluring I’m worth sharing.”
Surprisingly, I actually find her words comforting (not the result she was hoping for I bet). Stone and Azlan both want me. They’re prepared to share to have me. They’re both prepared to risk their jobs, their livelihoods and their reputations too. When I come to think about it, it’s pretty darn flattering,
“I’m serious, Pig Girl. I don’t want you talking to them. I don’t want you looking at them. I don’t want you even sharing the same air as them.”
I shake my head and focus back in on Summer, remembering we’re talking about Tristan and Spencer here, not Stone and Azlan. Summer’s eyes brim with hatred and malice.
My own hatred seems to multiply in my chest. I would really, really like to slap her hard.
Because, though I hate to admit it, I have been looking at Tristan and Spencer, trying to work out what the hell the pull towards them can mean.
Are they meant to be mine, not hers? And if they are, considering I hate them both and they hate me right back, where the hell does that leave us all?