the blinds back in place, she spins toward me so fast, Dorito tries to leap from her lap, but she pulls him close to her chest. “Laurel is, and excuse my basic bitch lingo, the worst.”
“Sounds about right. In the thirty minutes I was forced to spend with her, she told me that the academy has lowered its standards, whined about the cleaning service she’s hired for her dorm, and vowed to have ICE arrest her stepmother.”
She blinks several times, then throws her head back and roars with laughter. “God, I can’t….” Tears of merriment glint at the corners of her eyes when she lowers her head. “I think Dorito and I need to make a trip to Jacoby House so he can roll around on her bed.”
I draw a stack of neatly folded uniform shirts, complete with tags, from the box and take them to the dresser. “Why? Is she allergic—” When it hits me, my heart drops all the way to my kneecaps. “Oh no, please don’t tell me she’s your—”
She confirms with a groan and a dramatic roll of her eyes. “Lucky me, right? Of all the nasty mean girls in this school, I end up with that thing as a stepsister.”
“Ugh, I’m so sorry,” I mutter. “How’s your mom?”
“Fine.” But she makes a face. “I mean, other than being married to the greedy old bastard that spawned Lilith, she’s fine. Mom was born in Brooklyn, plus she’s Puerto Rican, so ICE essentially told Laurel to suck a dick.”
A bark of laughter bursts from my throat. “No shit? That’s amazing.”
“It was pretty great.” Alondra nods. Then, her gaze turns serious. “Look, you should avoid Laurel because she’s a hateful bitch, but you should definitely avoid anyone associated with Hot Draco.”
Up goes my eyebrows. “Wait, who?” Because I’m pretty sure Draco Malfoy’s not going to pop out from behind a corner and start firing unforgivable curses at me.
“Gabe’s tall, blond, and evil bestie,” she clarifies. “Laurel will ruin your day. That boy and his friends will ruin your life.”
“That sounds … ominous.” And extreme. Gabe was a sarcastic, shallow ass, but he didn’t seem like someone who goes around ruining lives. Who are these people?
I open my mouth to probe her further, curiosity eating at me, but her phone buzzes. Grabbing it from the pocket of her dress, her eyes light up in delight.
“Sorry, Mallory, it’s my dad. I gotta take this.”
“No problem,” I tell her, though I’m dying to know more about these guys she’s warned me about. “I’ll see you later maybe?”
“Definitely,” she confirms, standing up with Dorito clutched in one hand, and her phone in the other. She hurries to leave my room, and I hear her gush, “Hey, Dad…” as she wanders back down the hall.
I sigh. Must be nice. Then I remember that I need to call Carley. She’s probably going out of her mind wondering if I died on the ride to the school. I grab my phone from my bag and sit on my new bed, punching in her number.
When I find the dining hall across campus a few hours later, I’m floored by the utter opulence of the huge space. It looks like a five-star restaurant—well, at least what I think one should look like—complete with cloth covered tables and real silverware. I wander inside, scanning the room for a seat, a little lost as to what exactly I’m supposed to do. Do I sit and order? Do I go pick out my food myself? Where the hell are the trays?
Maybe I should’ve sucked up my pride and taken Laurel and Gabe up on their offer for a tour. Then I wouldn’t feel so clueless.
“Mallory! Hey, over here!”
I look to my left and spot Alondra waving at me from a table by the wall. Relief sweeps through me as I make my way over to her. She’s alone, but it doesn’t appear that’s been the case the whole time. There are dirty plates at a few of the other seats around her.
“Hey,” I say, smiling as I reach her. “Are you finishing up?”
Blowing a loose curl out of her face, she shakes her head. “Nah, I was waiting for you. I figured you had to come down out of hiding eventually.”
I laugh, sliding into the only seat with a clean place setting left at the table.
“So, how’s this work? Don’t tell me there’s waiters for the cafeteria.”
“This place is pretentious as hell, but it’s not that pretentious. There’s a serving