under the hem of her skirt.
When I straighten back up, I glance away, hoping no one can see the pink of my cheeks. I’m not a prude—far from it. Christ, I’m a river rat, born and bred. Skinny dipping is in our blood. But the sight of his fingers gliding up her thigh—slow, intentional, painfully intimate—right in the middle of a public lunch bustle makes something inside of me squirm.
My eyes land on a familiar head of blond hair a few tables away. He sits with other boys who are as loud and brash as he is. In that moment, our eyes meet. His are stone cold and aloof, passing over me like I’m no one. Nothing. I’m only worried about the heat on my face. Does he notice? Can he tell that my skin feels like it’s on fire? If he does, he doesn’t reveal it, turning back to his friends. I want to say that I forget him, ignore him, but I don’t. Even here in the dull roar of the dining hall, I find myself tracking him—his hands, his movements. He’s constantly gesturing, touching, hands curling into fists and releasing, so easily. Hands that can break. Hands that can hurt. My skin itches, just watching how easy it is for him. He’s wild and carefree. Impulsive and unrestrained.
He’s the opposite of everything I am.
“So, Sugar, you in for Friday night?” Georgia asks, drawing my attention back to the table.
“In for…” I raise an eyebrow, hoping no one notices my distraction. Or the source of it. One look at Vandy proves she’s too engrossed in Reyn to notice anything else. Maybe because of where and what his hands are doing at the moment. Shit. Now my face is red again. Who does that at the lunch table?
“The guys are all into these ‘car shows',” she says, using finger quotes. “I don’t know why they call them that.”
“Because,” Afton chimes in. I didn’t even know she was listening. “Basically, it’s a bunch of guys showing off their cars and driving like maniacs. It may as well be a dick-measuring contest.”
This is what rich kids do? I’m somehow both curious and completely uninterested.
“Uh,” I tap the edge of my fork on my tray. “I should probably catch up on some of my homework. I’m a little behind.” Understatement. Freshmen like the twins are probably learning shit that I would have been taught this year, had I gone back to my old school. Things here move so fast that it makes my head spin.
“Aw, come on,” Georgia pleads. “Didn’t you say you came here for the new experiences?”
I chew the inside of my cheek. “Partly.”
“Well, this is one of them!” She looks around, prompting other nods of encouragement. “Sneaking out of the dorms, heading off campus, participating in borderline illegal behavior.” She lists them off like it’s a badge of honor. “It’s fun, seriously. Total Preston rite of passage.”
It doesn’t sound particularly fun. Honestly, it sounds exactly like the kind of dumb shit the kids back home would do. But my new roommate looks at me expectantly and it feels wrong saying no to someone making an effort to include me.
I mean, how bad can it be?
The thick stench of sulfur and the sound of squealing tires meet us as we get to the overpass. Down below, on the state highway, a barricade of cars has blocked the road in both directions, headlights illuminating the area. The harsh scent of chemicals—spray paint, I realize—hits me. On the other side of the street is a kid in a black sweatshirt, hood up over his head, tagging a cement pillar.
“So this is what rich kids do on a Friday night, huh?” I lean over the rail, looking into the street below. Georgia is on one side of me, Caroline the other. Vandy and a few other people from the lunch table are milling around. There are other kids, but they’re the kind who don’t seem like they go to Preston. They’re more like kids from home. For the first time in my life, I feel weirdly split between two worlds, even though neither of them are actually mine.
“I’m sure some kids are partying tonight. I think Miranda Bradshaw is having people over,” Georgia says with disinterest. “Things have kind of been weird around Preston since homecoming.”
“What do you mean?” I have to shout the question since one of the drivers below decided to open their trunk, revealing a massive stereo system. Rap music