Page 9 of Crooked Crows (Boys of Briar Hall 1)

“Do you know where room 701 is?” I finally managed around the lump in my throat, lengthening my spine. It didn’t matter that in my rush to shower and get to class I’d had to forego my usual five-minute makeup routine in favor of some hastily applied mascara. Or that all my clothes were wrinkled to shit from being stuffed haphazardly in my suitcase. At least I had my baggy black sweater to cover most of it up, though that wasn’t exactly pretty either.

It didn’t matter one little bit.

“701?” he repeated, making me wonder if he was daft. Someone as gorgeous as he was had to have some sort of flaw. As he slid his tatted fingers through his damp dark hair, I noticed the word inked into his knuckles was, in fact,ROOKand that his knuckles were bruised and cut. I also noticed how his left cheek was blooming with a patch of red that looked suspiciously like a handprint.

“That’s what I said,” I snapped and then remembered myself.Play nice, Ava Jade.“Could you tell me where it is?”

“I’ll do you one better.”

Without another word, he brushed past me, a nasty vanilla scent trailing along with him that made my nose wrinkle. I assumed he meant to show me instead.

I considered saying fuck it and finding the room myself, but in a building this massive, it could take me all day. So, instead, I caught up to the guy, brushing the stray hairs that’d snuck out of my messy bun back behind my ears.

“Won’t you get in trouble for being late?”

If the rules were as archaic as the old building, I was willing to bet they beat you with rulers for a tardy.

He seemed amused by my question and his lips tipped up into a crooked grin. “Nah.”

We fell back into silence and that suited me just fine. I wasn’t about to make friends with a guy who looked like he might be here to stage an attack on the place. Though I did do a sweep over his hand and neck tatts again, checking for any discernible gang ink.

Finding none, I was satisfied for the moment.

We passed several classrooms where teachers prattled on to the whispered drone of student conversation until I noticed the pattern of the numbers.

“I think I can find it from here,” I said, eager to leave the guy behind in the hallway. His nearness was setting my teeth on edge, and not least of all because he kept sneaking glances at me when he thought I wasn’t looking.

I called back a hastythanksbefore rushing forward to room 701 which should be...ah.Right there. I shoved my way inside, pulse thrumming in my ears. My sigh of relief turned to something entirely different as the teacher halted mid-lecture, his gaze piercing me in place.

My eyes skimmed over the class, searching for one specific face, but not finding it. No Becca. Great.

“I,uh,I’m Ava Jade, I just started—”

“You’re late,” came his sharp reply, and my first instinct was to snap right back at him with a comment about his Harry Potter wannabe glasses, but I smothered it with a forced nod.

“Sorry, sir, it won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t. Late students aren’t welcome in my classroom, is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well don’t just stand there, find a seat.”

I bit the inside of my cheek and surveyed the rest of the class, face heating as I realized all eyes were on me. Eyes ringed in false lashes and faces framed in too-perfect hair. Clothes that looked like they were stolen right off the mannequins at Prada or Chanel.

The door bumped into my ass as it reopened at my back, sending me staggering forward toward the two empty seats in the room.

“Sorry,” I muttered at whoever’s way I was in, gaping when I saw it was the guy from the hall.

“Rook,” the teacher said, removing his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “Glad you decided to grace us with your presence.”

What?

Was he seriously not going to give the guy hell for being late after basically just verbally bitchslapping me for doing the same? Awesome, so the school was sexist as well. Why wasn’t I surprised?

“Of course, Mr. Jameson.” Rook tipped his head to the teacher, giving a little salute and absolutely no excuse as to why he was late.

He shouldered past me and took his seat, leaving me only one option: the desk and chair in the absolute center of the classroom.

---