Defiant Princess (Boys of Oak Park Prep #2) - Callie Rose Page 0,63
cushion beside me and dived back into the books. I really did want to do well. Not for Jacqueline, and not even for Philip—but for me. I’d risked a lot to come back here, and I was determined to make it worthwhile.
I felt a little nervous as I walked toward Craydon Hall on Monday morning, and despite my efforts not to feel anything, my heart slammed harder in my chest when I walked through the front door and saw the Princes standing several yards down the hallway.
Elijah’s gaze landed on mine, and every inch of my skin warmed. Maybe his did too, because I swore I saw a blush tint his cheeks. His face was still banged up, although the swelling near his eye had gone down.
And surprisingly, Mason looked about the same. I hadn’t thought the fight was even between them, but for the minute that Elijah had held the upper hand, he’d gotten some serious punches in. The tall, green-eyed boy had a healing cut near the corner of his mouth, a black eye just like Elijah, and a purpling bruise on his jaw.
His sharp gaze tracked between me and Elijah, and I had to force my expression to stay neutral. Did he know?
The suspicion on his face made me think he didn’t, but that he suspected—which meant Elijah hadn’t told him.
None of them said anything as I walked by, but they all watched me openly, and I watched them right back. The feud between Elijah and Mason that’d led to the fistfight had obviously been somewhat resolved in the ring, but the Princes still weren’t the united front they’d once been. They were fractured, keeping secrets from each other, each functioning as an individual rather than a mindless part of the four-headed monster.
That was good. It would be easier to take down four boys than one monster.
But my heart twinged a little as I walked by and took in their bruised faces, Finn’s earnest brown eyes, and Cole’s carefully stoic expression.
I didn’t always know what I wanted from the four of them. Did I want their apologies, like Elijah had given me? Or did I just want to ruin them?
When had they all gotten so deep under my skin?
And how was I supposed to get them out?
At least classwork ramping up gave me a distraction. I had noticed Adena and her crew—which solidly included Preston and his friends now—holding court in the hallways more often. More kids seemed to be scared of her than had used to be, and her hangers-on were always eager to be assholes to me, knowing it’d get them in good with their queen. But I ignored all that to focus on getting through the week.
I spent every sixth period working on my audition piece under Finn’s watchful, quiet gaze. I could tell he was itching to talk, and to be honest, I missed our conversations in that little room. But I wasn’t ready to let him in like that again.
My two tests went okay. American Lit was tough, and when I glanced over at Finn, I almost felt sorry for him. He wasn’t a stupid guy, I knew that from talking to him, but he obviously had a hard time with certain subjects. I wondered if his dad would have to make some kind of donation to the school or something if Finn didn’t pass his final exams on his own.
My Spanish test was on Thursday, and since we were allowed to leave once we finished, I got released from class early. I was just hitching my backpack onto my shoulders when the door opened, and Miss Wallace poked her head into the room.
“Talia? There’s a phone call for you in the office. Can you come with me?”
My brows pulled together. “Um, sure.”
She nodded, barely waiting for me to join her before striding down the hall. I glanced at her curiously as we walked, trying to guess who might want to speak to me. Who even knew I was here? Maybe the lawyer, Erin Bennett? But she had my cell number. The judge who’d ruled on my appeal to access my trust early?
Inside the admin offices, Miss Wallace ducked back behind her desk, picked up the phone, and pressed a button on the large cradle. “Here you are, dear.”
I took it, putting it to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hello.” A youngish-sounding male voice spoke on the other end of the line. “Is this Talia Hildebrand?”