Savage Royals (Boys of Oak Park Prep #1) - Callie Rose Page 0,11

of the class.

The teacher—Mrs. Gates, if I remembered right from my class schedule—resumed her lecture as I picked my way through the desks, and most people turned back toward the front to listen. But as I settled into my chair, a prickle of awareness made me look up, and my gaze landed on another familiar face.

The blond boy from the convertible.

He was sprawled in his seat on the opposite side of the room, about as far back as I was, and when everyone else had turned away from me, his gaze had remained. He was fucking built, maybe bigger than Cole, and his broad, muscled frame looked almost comically large crammed behind the tiny desk.

Shit, he looks like some jock wet dream. All golden hair, tan skinned, and light brown eyes, like clover honey. He looked like the perfect stereotype of what all girls craved, and I was surprised to find the look did it for me.

But it did.

It really did.

He was smiling, just like he had been in the car that day—as if he couldn’t not smile, as if life was all just one big, hilarious joke, too funny not to grin at.

I couldn’t exactly relate to that sentiment, but I had to admit, his smile was one of the most gorgeous things I’d ever seen. He had perfect white teeth framed by two dimples in his cheeks, and when he caught me staring back at him, his eyes sparkled with humor and… heat.

His gaze trailed from my face down to my toes in a slow perusal, and I could feel a flush creeping along my skin as my body reacted to his attention. He wasn’t exactly being subtle about checking me out, but it didn’t seem to bother him one bit that I knew what he was doing.

He tugged his full bottom lip between his teeth, sinking deeper into his chair as he spread his legs languidly, tapping the bottom of the desk in the row next to his with his foot. He’d loosened the tie of his uniform, and somehow he managed to make even the stuffy, uptight outfit look casual.

“Are we boring you, Mr. Whittaker?” Mrs. Gates called from the front of the class. “Eyes up here, please.”

He flicked his gaze up toward the front of the room briefly, but I got the distinct impression he didn’t do it because he had to. In fact, I got the impression Mrs. Gates couldn’t make this guy do much of anything if he didn’t want to—and not just because he was practically double her size. He had an air of easy confidence about him, as if the world had opened every door he’d ever stood in front of, and he had no doubt it would do so again and again.

Must be fucking nice.

I peeled open my book, flipping to the chapter number that was written on the whiteboard and following along as Mrs. Gates lectured. I didn’t look at the guy again, but I didn’t need to. Every time his gaze landed on me—and it happened quite a bit—I felt it, like a feather being dragged lightly over my skin.

When class finally let out, I made a break for it quickly, not wanting to give Mrs. Gates a chance to pull me up to the front and make me introduce myself or some shit like that. Not that she seemed too interested in that sort of thing. Everyone here was already a week into classes, and she clearly didn’t feel the need to slow down her lesson plan with “new student show and tell”.

And I’d been right about the curriculum being harder here.

This class was way ahead of where I’d been at Sand Valley High, and if all my classes were like this, I was going to have to kick my ass into gear to catch up—or at the very least, not fall any further behind.

Since I hadn’t actually made it to my first two classes, the next period after History was lunch. At least I knew where the dining hall was, thanks to Leah’s tour. I left my schedule tucked away in my bag, not wanting to look any more like a tourist and an outsider than I probably already did, and hiked across the quad toward the large cafeteria building.

It was done in the same style as all the other buildings in campus, with arched windows, white walls, and a red tiled roof. The look was actually starting to grow on me. Between that and the