I hit Dan’s number on my phone again. He still doesn’t pick up.
I remember that we agreed to meet at the car park so I opt to wash my face and head out there.
My hand sakes while I clutch the phone and make my way down the hall, searching for the washroom. There’s something else Dan mentioned about tonight’s party that somehow flashes into my fuzzy head.
Don’t go into the pool house. It’s restricted access.
I don’t know why I’m thinking about that now. Couples are on either side of the wall, making out and whatnot. Surely, if this was a forbidden area, they wouldn’t be here.
I push the first door to my right and stop. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh and unmistakable moans make me slam it shut immediately.
I try the next and the next, but they’re all either locked up or occupied.
And I might have pissed off a few couples.
My clothes stick to my heated skin and my legs become wobbly and weak. A summer vibe song blurts from the speakers and buzzes through my ears.
A rush of energy wobbles through me and a weird urge to dance takes hold of me.
After what seems like a trip down the similar halls, I spot one of the football team's players follow a girl out of an isolated room.
Thank God.
I run towards it as fast as my legs allow.
As soon as I’m inside, I head to the door on the right and almost cry with joy when it turns out to be a bathroom.
The automatic faucet opens, and I splash water on my face over and over, but there’s no extinguishing the fire on my skin.
I know something is wrong with me, I just don’t know what. Could it be the pizza I had with Dan on the way over?
All I know is that I need to go home. Now.
With one last splash of water, I trudge back to the bathroom’s door.
I should’ve heard the male voices. I should’ve hidden in the bathroom for a bit more.
Hell, I should’ve never went into ‘the room’ in the first place.
The moment I open the door, pale blue eyes peer into my soul.
King.
The same king I was warned to stay away from. He’s watching me with a smirk and a glint in his eyes as if he found his next prey.
“Looks like a little lamb lost her way.”
2
Astrid
Invisibility 101: Don’t mingle with the most popular boy in school.
* * *
Holy shit. Are those eyes for real?
It’s the first thought I have while staring up at the eldest of the school’s two kings. The blue is so pale, it’s almost grey, but not really. It’s like a cloudy sky with a promise of some blue. It’s impossible to predict whether they’ll darken into a storm or clear into a mesmerising day.
And it totally has nothing to do with how much I love the colour blue or how his eyes have one of the rarest variations I’ve ever seen.
I’d take hours and still not be able to come out with the right colouring.
In my two years in RES, I never paid attention to the ‘Kings’. Of course, they were shoved down mine — and everyone else’s— throats at school for being the rulers. The kings. The prodigy football players. The future heirs of King Entreprises that owns half the country and controls the other half through politicians.
You can’t escape the King surname in the UK — unless you live in a cave and even then, their name might follow you there. They dominate The Daily Mail and every mail. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they’re after the queen’s throne. Only, well, some might argue they’re already more powerful than her.
However, this is my first up-close and personal look at a ‘King’.
Levi King.
Captain of the football team.
Crowned king of the school.
And attractive as shit.
It’s not his eyes, but more like all of him. His golden blond hair is short on the sides and long in the middle to be pushed back in a tousled, sexy kind of way. His jaw is too sharp for a seventeen going on eighteen-year-old. He’s too tall, I have to look up to stare up at him — or ogle the shit out of him, basically. The hard ridges of his shoulders and arms hint at muscles honed by hours in the practice room. He’s like a young Viking in dark jeans, a black T-shirt and the team’s royal blue jacket that has the school’s