Stuck With The Four Hotties

at yet, standing at the bottom of the wide, worn steps with my heart thundering in my throat. My school sche

entrance. According to the orientation email, I should be meeting my guide just inside the inner courtyard. I wonder if I look poor? I swallow hard aga

s standing on. There’s a boy sitting on the edge of the fountain, wearing a uniform that matches mine. So he’s a first year, too, I think, reminding myself that most of the students here have been attending

ith blond highlights, bright blue eyes, full pink lips. Always working outside the box. Now if I can only keep the res

ay across my lips. I’ve decided that if anyone asks me about my family, I won’t lie. No, I’m not shamed of where I come from. Actually, I’m proud of myself. Not

e …” Andrew trails off for a moment, and I catch the briefest flick of his eyes in the direction of a janitor’s closet. “Around here somewhere.” Andrew’s gaze switches back over to me and for a spl

t no loaded teen wants to date someon

hissing a little at the cold of the bronze against my thighs. Wearing a skirt like this is going to take some serious getting used to. But I asked

other. “I’ll be shadowing him all day.” Andrew smiles back at me, but there’s a slight grimace to his expression. Uh-o

he rafters above, a flock of birds lands, scattering feathers. The wind cat

ew cocks his head slightly, chucking under his brea

rom falling into the water. This thing not only holds my new laptop and tablet, but it also cost the scholarship foundation

streams between the four bell towers that surround the courtyard, turning Andrew’s hair a generous gold. “And I’m definitely not that gay— un

gh

mean to, I end up flirting with the guy. Great.

his eyes twinkling,

step back and lean against the cool stone walls of one of the bell towers, excited that classes are actually still held in these narrow buildings. I’m trying to give the boys a little space, so I tug o

itor’s closet flies open and a girl in a fourth year uniform—black skirt, black shir

I see him changes everything. Hell, it changes my whole life, rearranges my past, dicta

y hot, like I should take off my jacket and loose

ir glossy and raven-black, his mouth too dangerous to be tempting. My fingers curl t

a rea

over me. He takes the jacket that’s lying over his arm and shrugs into it, fixes the two center buttons, and then leans forward

n looks downright vicious. I open my mouth to respond, wishing I’d never made the decision not to lie. It’d feel good

er or something. So much for acting cool. Not that it would matter to this guy: he’s already made up