Page 40 of Poison Touch

“It’s not my fault, Chelsea. She?—”

“It’s never your fault, Brielle. Now get to work. I do believe, from the looks of your project at the beginning of the week, you’re behind.”

I don’t try to hide the smile on my face. I do love watching that bitch get put in her place.

Knowing that art is far from one of my strengths, I spend the rest of class attempting to draw some semblance of my face. Fail.By the end of another grueling hour, my hope of art class being an easy A has been crushed to merely a long-lost dream.

By the luck of the gods, I managed to find my way to biology without any missteps or unwanted visuals. Eden’s not unfriendly when she asks me how I am, but her tone is still stiff.

At the end of class, she slides her notebook toward me. “These are my notes from the beginning of the year. You can use them to copy, then give them back to me tomorrow. I always print them, I find it easier to study.”

“Thanks.” After only knowing her for a few days, it’s obvious she’s got something on her mind. “Hey, is everything okay?”

She plays with the hem of her jacket. “Yeah, just got a lot going on.”

I nod. “Okay.” I thumb through the pages of the notebook. Like everything else about Eden, her handwriting is neat and precise. I slide it into my backpack. “I’ll see you later.” She’s most definitely not okay.

“Yeah, see you.”

I head to the library to study. I’ve pretty much gotten the hang of knowing where everything is, thank freaking God, which means no more walking in on unauthorized sex-ed classes.

Josh catches up to me just as I reach the entrance to the library. “Hey, Kinsley,” he says, slightly out of breath.

“Hi, what’s up?”

He hands me a small piece of paper. “I didn’t have your number, so here’s the party's address. I put my number at the bottom so we can hook up. I don’t mean hook up like— I mean?—”

“Josh, chill, I know what you mean.”

His shoulders relax, and he smiles. He has a nice smile. It’s a little crooked. The higher side gives way to a dimple. “Yeah. Okay.”

We say our goodbyes, and then I go inside. The enormous chandeliers light the windowless building. Plopping down at my usual table near the back, I toss my bag onto the table, pull out the chair, and silently pray Edge has better things to do than harass me today. Lucky me, he never shows up.

As I review Eden’s notes, making copies of most of them, I wonder where Edge goes if he doesn’t come here. Then I immediately want to kick myself in the ass for even letting that thought through.

Tossing all thoughts of Edge into the imaginary fire in my head, I focus back on Eden’s notes. Despite the growling in my stomach, I stay to finish copying the biology notes. An hour later, I’m not nearly done when I pack up. The skies decide to open up as soon as I step into the courtyard.

Running for cover, I take refuge from the downpour in the cafeteria. I have no idea what to expect, but what’s in front of me is very familiar. It’s set up like my last school, with a fresh salad bar, a grill for burgers and grilled cheese, and a hot buffet line with already prepared food.

Having no idea who sits where or what groups have already staked their claim on the still-empty tables, I head for the saladbar. I figure it’s a safe bet, giving me time to get my food while everyone files in and settles into their usual seats.

“Hey, girl.” Bryce gives me a toothy grin. It falls as soon as he eyes my salad. “You’re one of those, huh?”

“One of what?” I ask.

“One of those healthy bitches who watches her weight, only eating salads and apples. Blah, blah, and boring. Don’t lie, I’ve paid attention.”

I laugh. “Actually, no. You have me all wrong. I love cheeseburgers, a loaded deep-dish pizza, and ice cream on all the days of the week.”

He props his hands on his popped-out hip. “Okay, spill?”

“Spill what?”

“How do you do it? How the hell do you look as hot as you do and eat all that crap?”

I don’t give details but answer, “Exercise. And lots of it.”

He glances at the salad and the bottle of water. “So what’s up with that?”