Elite (Eagle Elite) (6 page)

I made my way out down the hall, but Chase caught up to me and whispered in my ear as we walked. “Protection.”

“What?”

“See ya!” He waved and walked down the hall, leaving me to wonder what in the heck I needed to be protected from? Or whom?

Chapter Seven

“So tired…” I mumbled, swiping my card across the elevator door. Okay, so I knew it was lazy for me to use my one pass on the first day of school. But my brain was fried. I was chosen to speak during my last three classes. My final class had been a KI elective which was basically like PE. I had no idea colleges forced exercise!

Lucky for me, I had it all wrong.

They don’t do P.E. at Elite.

No, they did defensive arts. Seriously. That’s what they called it. As in, not dark arts from Harry Potter, but defensive arts. It could have easily been the same thing with how my body felt.

For the past hour, I swear, my soul left my body and I was victim to some guy named Spike brutally attacking me.

At least now I knew how to gouge someone’s eyes out, which I knew was going to come in handy if I had to sit and eat with Nixon every day.

I chewed my lip. The elevator doors opened. I stepped in and leaned against the wall. Why would he be so mean to me and then make sure I was always around him?

The elevator stopped. Great. I hit my floor again. It still didn’t budge and now a shrieking noise began coming from above me.

I hated small spaces. Panic set in. I was just about to use the little red phone to call the fire department, or the SWAT, or something when the elevator moved again.

“Thank God,” I mumbled as the doors opened to my floor.

I shuffled to my door and stopped in front of it.

On my door was a picture of my face on a cow’s body.

Should have known that was going to happen sooner or later.

Clever. Bet they nearly killed off all their brain cells to come up with that one. I decided to join in the fun and drew a heart around my head with a little bubble that said
MOO
.

Take that.

I pushed open the door and immediately threw off my jacket, followed by my shirt, and then I addressed my skirt. I heard chuckling.

My hands froze on my skirt’s zipper. I looked up.

Nixon lay across my bed. “Please, don’t let me interrupt. Continue.”

I flipped him off.

He laughed harder.

I quickly pulled on the tank top I’d worn to bed and thrown across the chair. “What do you want?”

“Not sex, but thanks for the offer.”

“I was not…” I took three deep breaths. Arguing got me nowhere with Satan. “Why are you here?”

“Waiting for my sister. What else?”

I exhaled in relief.

“What, you disappointed I didn’t want an afternoon screw?”

“Not at all.” I sat far far away on Monroe’s bed. “Besides if you needed one, all you have to do is knock on any door on this floor. Just be sure to use protection. I know how you are about germs.”

“Only yours,” he sang.

I threw a pillow in his direction hoping to smack him in the face. He caught it mid air and scowled. “Can you at least wait for her outside?”

“Nope.”

“Why?” I ground my teeth together. At the rate I was going I would have nothing left to grind.

“Because, I like your bed. It’s comfortable.”

“It has my germs and I swear to you I drooled all over my pillow last night.”

He shrugged. “I only hate germs on people, not objects.”

Nixon looked at his watch then put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.

“Why?”

“Why what, Farm Girl?”

“Why don’t you like people touching you? Is that
your
rule or an Elite thing?”

“You ask a lot of questions for someone so stupid.”

That stung, but I was too tired to let it sink too far into my consciousness. “It is the only way to find out how to survive in this place.”

“You’ll survive, if you follow the rules. I thought I told you that.” He propped up on his elbow. “The system works, Trace. I know you think I’m an asshole, but if I was nice, they would eat you alive. Wouldn’t you rather I do the tasting?” He smirked.

Damn, I was literally itching to punch him in the jaw.

“Why can’t everyone just be nice and get along?”

He groaned into his hands and stood. “Maybe I will wait outside.”

“You do that.”

He walked to the door and then stopped. “Has anyone made fun of you today?”

“Is this a trick question?” I asked, jumping off Monroe’s bed. “You make fun of me all the time!”

“Other than me.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “Tell me the truth.”

“N-no,” I stuttered. “No one made fun of me today.”

“I guess my point is made.”

“The hell it is.” I bent down and picked up another pillow to throw at his face. “You think you have that much power? To protect me from them? You think you’re that much better? That what you do is better than what typical college kids could do to me?”

His eyebrows rose. “Care to make a wager?”

“Fine!” I poked him in the chest.

Nixon closed his eyes as if in pain. “Please don’t touch me.”

I backed off but only because he said please.

“I’ll stop bothering you… but when I win — when you can’t take it anymore — when you are living in hell every single day, I want to hear it from your lips. Not Monroe’s, not Chase’s. I want you to approach me. I want you to tell me…”

“Tell you what?” I whispered.

“That you need me.”

“When hell freezes over!” I snapped.

“Bring a parka, because life’s a bitch and you just bought a first class ticket, sweetheart.”

I was still in a crappy mood when Monroe finally arrived. True to his word, Nixon sat outside, at the door waiting for her. Why he didn’t text her or call her I have no idea.

I couldn’t really hear what they were saying. But Monroe was yelling, and Nixon was yelling, and I was pretty sure one of them was going to throw a punch.

So I was really surprised when Monroe bounced into the room with a wide smile on her face. “Guess what!”

“You killed your brother?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not that lucky, no.” With a huff she sat on her bed. “The Elect are throwing a party tonight and I get to bring you!”

Excuse me while I pull out my pom-poms. “Swell.”

“Boots, don’t go raining on my parade. Besides, Tex will be there and…”

I raised an eyebrow.

She flushed. “Fine. I like Tex. Happy?”

“Does Satan know?”

“He sees all,” she grumbled.

“Is that why you guys were fighting?”

“What should I wear?” Monroe clapped her hands. “I don’t want to look too easy, but I still want to look hot, you know? Hmm, maybe a red dress? You think? With Loubuitan heels?”

“Uh… Louib—who?” I laughed. “You’re beautiful in pajamas. Just wear something you feel confident in.” I didn’t miss that she changed the subject, but I decided maybe it was best if I didn’t know all of the happenings of their family.

Monroe began pulling clothes from her closet and tossing them onto the floor. Finally, she chose a purple dress with a plunging front and back. Only it was covered with some sheer material so technically it could not be defined as slutty.

I did say
technically
.

“Your turn.”

“Um, I have a lot of homework and—”

“—Nope, you’re going. Nixon said you could.”

“Oh well, if the great and powerful OZ said I could go….”

Monroe threw her head back and laughed. “Can we please call him Oz from now on?”

“Sure, he’d love that.” I smirked. “He’d probably threaten me again.”

“Whatever.” Monroe rummaged on the floor and grabbed a tight t-shirt and short jean skirt. “Here.” She tossed them at my face.

I caught them. Both pieces of clothing were smaller than the tank top I wore to bed. How was that supposed to work?

“Um, Monroe, this outfit is kind of—”

She rolled her eyes. “Wear flip flops so you don’t look as tall, and we’ll give you a leather jacket. It will look awesome. Trust me.”

I wasn’t sure I could trust anything coming from her mouth, considering she was the one wearing a purple get up that would make the Jersey Shore blush.

“Are you sure I should go? I don’t know, Nixon and I got in a fight and—”

“I need you!” She stood to her full height and stomped her foot. “I need a wing person.”

“For Tex? You’re kidding right?”

“Please?” She jutted out her bottom lip.

I glared, but she kept giving me that pitiful stare of hers. “Fine, I’ll go.” I had a really bad feeling about this party.

Chapter
Eight

Note to self — if you have a bad feeling about something… If your gut is twisting at the idea of following through with a bad choice… Just say no. Do not be a
yes
person. I closed my eyes and opened them again. Maybe if I closed my eyes I’d become invisible. I tried it again. Nope. No such luck. Crap.

“Monroe, I should go,” I yelled above the music.

“No! Stay!” She was dancing with Tex. I mean, I guess you could call it dancing. His hands were everywhere, and honestly I was waiting in anticipation for Nixon to punch him in the nose for holding his sister that close.

But Nixon was nowhere to be found.

Not that I was looking for him.

And even if I was looking for him, it was only out of self-preservation and survival. Like on the Discovery channel, when the antelope see a lion. They don’t just hang out and give the lion a chance. No, they run like hell.

“Okay, five more minutes,” I chanted to Monroe, but she was too busy making out with Tex. Hmm, I’d never really found red heads attractive, but he was kinda cute. When his tongue was in his mouth and he wasn’t completely drunk and humping my roommate.

So basically he was cute this afternoon. Tonight? Not so much.

“Hey, New Girl,” a male voice said from behind me.

I turned.

Phoenix stood there two drinks in hand. His Harvard good looks would get him far. His sandy blonde hair was slicked to the side, but it totally worked for him because it made his thick black eyelashes stand out against his chocolate eyes.

“Drink?” He held out the red plastic cup.

“Did you put a roofie in it?” I asked nicely.

“If I did I wouldn’t tell you,” he said with a deadpan expression.

And there goes that sick feeling again in my stomach.

He smiled warmly and tilted his head. “Take the drink, Trace. I promise I didn’t drug it…” I grasped the cup and took a tentative sip. “This time,” he finished.

“Good to know.”

He put his free arm around me and guided me to the outside. I hadn’t realized how stuffy it was in that tiny room until now. It was some sort of party house located on campus. One that security literally guarded so that kids could get wasted without having to worry about driving or doing something stupid.

Were there really no rules here?

“Rule number six…” Phoenix folded his arms across the banister of the balcony and sighed. “Never accept drinks from a stranger.”

“Do you qualify as a stranger?” I asked, taking another sip.

“No. We’re…” He seemed to think about it for a few seconds. “Friends.”

“Wow, that must have been hard to say out loud.”

“You should be more careful.” He sighed into his hands. “Look, I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. If Nixon finds out, he’ll kick my ass, but he’s just trying to protect you. You don’t know what the people are like here. I mean, you’re from a farm for crying out loud.”

“You sound just like him.” I played with the plastic cup in my hands and then set it on the balcony. “Everyone here is under the age of twenty-one, right?”

He shrugged. “Some are, some aren’t.”

“And they’re so bad that you guys have your own mafia to keep everyone in check? I don’t believe it. Sorry, but what about the security, what about the adults, the teachers?”

Phoenix looked down at the ground. “They look the other way.”

He started to look like he had two heads. I licked my lips. My throat suddenly felt really dry. I drank some more of the liquid from the cup. I felt parched. Finishing the drink, I put it back on the banister and looked at Phoenix.

“I… I’m so thirsty.”

He smirked. “Really? Do you want some of mine?”

I reached out to grab his cup and it tipped over the edge sufficiently landing on someone’s head. They flipped me off. Or at least I think they did. I saw like twenty fingers.

Something was wrong. My mouth felt like cotton. “Y-you said no drugs…” Why did my words sound so funny?

Phoenix laughed loudly. “I also told the new history teacher that I was a virgin in need of an older woman’s expertise…” He pulled me close to him and tilted my chin up. “Now you’ll see why you need us. Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’m doing this for Nixon, so he can see. He needs to see. Nobody can control us, especially not some farm girl who moos in front of the entire student body.”

I was being carried or pushed. I wasn’t really sure which. But suddenly we were back inside, and he was carrying me down the stairs and out to the front of the house. I tried to fight him, but it was like I had no strength in my body. This was bad. So very bad.

“H-help.” It was a weak pitiful yell. Actually, it sounded loud to my ears but everything sounded loud.

“Phoenix… pleashhh.”

“Sorry, Trace. I really am. But this is for your own good.”

How is drugging me for my own good?
This is what I wanted to yell to him, but when I opened my mouth nothing came out.

“What the hell, Phoenix!” I heard another male voice.
Please let it be a teacher or someone,
or Tex even!

“She’s drunk. I’m taking her back to her dorm.”

“Like hell you are! And her dorm isn’t in that direction. What are you doing?”

I saw Chase’s face. Well, I saw three of them. At least I think it was Chase.

“I’m doing her a favor, doing us a favor. Back off, you’re already on Nixon’s shit list. I’m making everything better, you’ll see.”

I lifted my hand up to grasp Chase. He looked concerned but not enough to do anything. I wanted to cry, but then again, I wanted to keep my tears in. I felt so dehydrated.