Saint (Angelview Academy #1) - E.M. Snow Page 0,15

was running away.

“Mallory!” she cried, catching me before I walked into the building for my first period English class. “Hold up!”

I stopped, hauled in a massive breath, and turned to her. She ran up to me, her ponytail flapping behind her, and a concerned expression twisting her features. A guy was with her that I hadn’t seen yet. He was handsome—go figure since this school seemed to be full of Hollister models—with light brown hair and amber eyes.

She quickly introduced him as Henry Reynolds, one of her best friends, before she demanded, “Holy shit, Mallory, what did you do?”

I didn’t know how to answer, so stupidly, I sloughed off a lame shrug. “He’s was being a dick to this girl, and I—”

She grabbed my shoulders and shook me like a rag doll. “What did I tell you? Steer clear of Saint Angelle! He’s beautiful on the outside, but poison on the inside. Everyone will be against you now, babe.”

“He can’t turn the whole school against me.” But even as I said that, panic clenched like a tight fist around my chest.

Loni had simply pressed her fingertips against her shut eyes. “Oh, you sweet summer child. He already has.”

She’d been right. So, so fucking right. I walked into my first class and felt as though I were facing down a firing squad. Everyone glared at me, and to my horror, I found Liam Halloway sitting near the back of the classroom, his expression dark and foreboding. I’d slunk to an empty seat in the back row, careful to avoid his murderous gaze.

Someone coughed into their hand. “Bitch.”

“Fucking trash,” someone else spat, not even trying to cover it up.

My blood began to boil with hot anger. Just before the bell rang, the pale, frizzy-haired girl I’d saved from Saint walked into the room and I felt a small wave of relief wash over me. Surely, she’d be a friendly face?

We met eyes, and to my shock and disgust, she turned her nose up and away from me. Making a point of ignoring me, she strutted to the other side of the room.

A piece of wadded-up notebook paper hit the side of my head. I turned in Liam’s direction to find a girl with red hair flipping me off. Sighing, I picked up the paper and smoothed it out.

In big, bold letters, the note read:

DEAD BITCH WALKING.

I crumpled it back up and flung it away.

The rest of my morning only gets worse from there. Second period I get a modicum of relief as none of the gods are in that class with me, but it’s clear that everyone else would rather I drop dead right then and there than keep on going about my day. Third period brings a fresh wave of grief as I stumble into my government class to find Gabe sneering at me, as though he knew I’d be there. Like Liam, he doesn’t say anything to me, but he doesn’t have to. His rabid fangirls and boys are verbal enough in their taunts and abuse.

By fourth period PE, I’m exhausted and furious and one sarcastic word away from flipping shit on someone, anyone. I’m dreading this class more than the others, though, because my physical safety will be at risk. It sucks because I usually enjoy PE, but I’m going to have to keep my guard up the entire time, or risk being clobbered with whatever sporting equipment my jerk classmates can get their hands on.

Thankfully, it’s also my last class of the day. My afternoon will be spent in self-study electives the guidance counselor arranged for me, so I won’t have to deal with anyone else until dinner. I step into the locker room to change, intent to just get out there and get the period over with, when a familiar, vicious voice freezes me.

“Well, well, look who it is. Angelview’s newest leper.”

This asshole again?

I take a deep breath before turning to face Laurel. She’s standing at the end of the row of green lockers with arms crossed and her hip cocked, surrounded by a group of girls who are clearly trying to look just like her. It’s such a cliché mean girl scene that I almost laugh out loud.

“What do you want, Laurel?” I ask, exasperated, and she does her best Regina George impersonation, hair flip included.

“Well, I’d say I wanted to warn you to watch your back, but I think it’s too late for that. You’ve got a target on your flat chest that’s so big,