Page 12 of Crooked Crows (Boys of Briar Hall 1)

“Detention,” Mr. Jameson called back over his shoulder without turning to look at me as he made his way to the blackboard. “Every day this week after last period.”

Bri grinned gleefully at me as I gathered up my notes, and I got an idea. It wasn’t nearly as much as she deserved, but I remembered one of the cardinal rules of Briar Hall from the pamphlet my aunt gave me.

No cell phones in class.

I knocked my hip into Bri’s desk as I bent to retrieve the pen I’d purposefully dropped, easily slipping my hand into the darkened mouth of her desk to grab her phone.

“Oh, so sorry about that,” I said, my voice dripping sarcasm and growing loud enough that the teacher would be sure to hear me. “I didn’t mean to make you drop your phone.”

Her eyes went wide.

“Here.” I dropped it onto her desk, and she went white as she scrambled to grab it, eyes shifting to Mr. Jameson who looked like he was ready to blow his top.

“Miss Moore, you should know better.”

“Mr. Jameson, I didn’t—”

“Detention,” he shouted over her plea. “And I’ll take that for the rest of the day.”

I gave her a one-shoulder shrug as she fumed with a declaration of war clear in her haughty stare. I hadn’t waved the white flag like she wanted, like she expected, and I got the feeling she didn’t know how to handle someone who stood their ground.

On a whim, I tossed a wink at the asshat who’d colluded with her to set me up, letting him know that I knew exactly what he’d done. That I wouldn’t forget it.

His stony blue eyes watched me, never wavering, as I left homeroom. It was me who had to break the connection, my throat going dry as I recognized something in his stare: a darkness that should’ve terrified me, but instead had me curious to see how deep it ran. My finger aching to press his buttons.

No.

I shook my head, clearing it of any lingering shadows. Freedom was within my reach. One school year away.

Another run before second period sounded like a good idea. If I stayed here, I couldn’t guarantee I wouldn’t wait around to give that blonde bitch a rude awakening after class.

At Lennox High, I was the girl everyone knew better than to cross. All it took was my curling a fist around the disappointingly small cock of the Lennox Lions’ quarterback, and pressing one of my blades firmly against its base. I only drew the tiniest dribble of blood, but it did the trick.

If the jerkoff didn’t already think I was insane for turning down his offer to fuck me in his truck, the blade helped finish the job.

By the next day I was branded a psycho and shunned by the rest of the school. Just how I liked it.

I half wondered if the same trick would work here before remembering the way the guy behind me had been staring. If I got his vibe right, the fucker would probably enjoy that. I sighed, tucking the idea away in a back pocket of my mind just in case I needed to use it.

By the timelunch rolled around, my legs were stiff from my run and my brain was absolute mush from second period history.

Left with only my baser instincts, I followed the smell of roast chicken like a stray dog, practically panting as I found the entrance to the dining hall.

Dear sweet baby Jesus, I wasstarving.How long had it been since I’d eaten anything? A day at least. Probably more. My stomach burbled loudly as I made for the serving line, eyes saucer wide as I took in the heaps of steaming, glistening goodness along the self-serve counter.

Every kind of salad you could imagine. Not one butthreedifferent soups. Sandwiches with little toothpick flags sticking out of their tops. Steaming trays of lemon and herb chicken. Seared tofu. Artfully cut fruit that looked too pretty to actually eat. Sushi. There was fucking sushi.

“Drool much?” A girl sneered as I got into line behind her. She abandoned her tray, leaving the line presumably just to get away from me.

Her loss was my gain. She’d already filled one small plate with salad, and not knowing where she’d gotten the tray, I helped myself to hers, adding a bowl of creamy soup and three sandwiches to the pile. I promised myself I’d come back for some sushi after I was finished when I realized there wasn’t room on the small black tray for anything else.

I spotted Becca as I turned and blew out a breath, glad to see a face that wasn’t staring at me like I might be contagious. She flashed a smile my way, and I slid into the seat next to her, barely getting out a ‘hey,’ before stuffing the first sandwich in my mouth.

Becca picked at an orange on her plate and watched me with an amused look on her face.

“What?” I managed between mouthfuls.

“Just get out of prison?” she joked, eyeing my plate and mayo coated fingers.

---