Devil Incarnate (Boys of Preston Prep #4) - Angel Lawson Page 0,52

his laces and falls flat on the floor, right beside the faculty table. The entire lunch room erupts in cheers and laughter, even though we all wince in sympathy. It was a hard hit, face-first into his lunch tray. As soon as he pushes up onto his knees, a rivulet of blood bursts from his nose, dribbling down his chin. The teachers all gasp, scrambling out of their seats to rush to the boy’s side. Dr. Ross holds a roll of napkins to his nose, while Mr. Francis clears the area. Mr. Lee is already on the phone, probably calling the nurse.

Heston doesn’t spare the gruesome scene a single glance.

He tears a bite from his sandwich and keeps scrolling on his phone.

My jaw drops. “See what I mean?” I toss a hand in his direction. “He’s the worst!”

I’d been on a video call with my mother all night, trying to clear up that whole veranda debacle. Apparently Kitty Klaus, who’s in Irene Babbage’s tennis class, heard from Yvonne Pugh that Heston and I had lunch together. Here I’d been worried about Warren’s reputation being marred, when the chatterboxes at the club are too stupid to reliably transfer gossip.

Rolling my eyes, I explain to Ozzy, “Heston and I have history. And it’s not the fun kind of history, like that time Napoleon got attacked by a horde of bunnies. We’re talking the fall of the Roman empire.”

“Oh!” Caroline says, looking excited. “We’re totally the Visigoths in this metaphor!” She laughs, but I just stare at her, blank-faced and lost.

“Come on, girl. I’ve got Mr. Francis for World History. Nothing penetrates.” I’m way too busy thinking about his fingers. Come to think of it, I might have to transfer out before it reaches Mr. Kent's levels of destructive to my GPA.

Ozzy seems to get it, though, letting out a little chuckle. “Visigoths. Nice one.”

Picking at my ravioli, I add, “Anyway, long story short, Heston is garbage and I’m single. Gloriously single.”

“Are any of you on the AcadaNeeds app?” He looks between us, hopeful.

Oh, yes. Ozzy is putting some serious feelers out here.

Vandy shakes her head. “I’m gloriously not single.” The look on her face makes me want to barf. It’s a miracle she doesn’t whip out her phone to show Reyn off. It’s obvious she wants to. It must suck to still be in high school when your super hot boyfriend has already graduated.

“I tried AcadaNeeds,” I grumble, “but it was an epic fail. Total confirmation that I need to focus on myself this year.”

“Oh, yeah?” He looks beside him, to where Caroline is splitting her attention between the food and a textbook. “What about you?”

She looks up, eyes wide and startled. “Me? A dating app?” She gives a nervous laugh, adjusting her tray just-so. “I’m way too focused on school to worry about boys. As it is, I’ll probably end up going to the Debutante Ball with Georgia’s brother. Or Vandy’s brother.” Quieter, she mutters, “Someone’s always got a brother.”

Vandy and I share a sympathetic look. Poor girl. She’s way better than that.

“You realize AcadaNeeds isn’t really a dating app, right?” He grins at her, trying to catch her gaze. “It’s just for hooking up. You know, anonymous, casual fun.”

“Oh,” Caroline says, cheeks blooming scarlet. “Casual. Like, for sex. That’s…um…” Trailing off, she looks majorly uncomfortable.

Ozzy thankfully realizes this, swiftly changing the topic. “So, lasagna, spaghetti, ravioli. Did my dad strike a deal with a pasta wholesaler, or is this Italian cuisine week?”

But when I look back at Caroline, she’s shoving her textbook into her bag and suddenly standing. “Um. Bye.”

“Wait,” Vandy calls. “Where are you going?”

Caroline doesn’t stop, and the whole thing bothers me. She’s always been shy and prone to getting flustered. God knows, Sebastian spent the first half of last year flirting with her enough that it’s a miracle she didn’t faint. But it was different. There was never any real heat in the way he’d tug her pigtails and call her pretty. It was the teasing kind of flirting.

I exchange a look with Vandy and she nods. Hopping up, I collect my bag and follow Caroline out of the room. I sense Heston’s hot gaze on my back as I pass by his table, but I’m better this time—armed with something better than the rubber band.

I jam the sharp point of a pen into my thigh.

Jab!

It only takes a few minutes to find her, tucked in the periodicals section of the library. Unsurprisingly, she’s going over the