The Black Queen Card

chapter four - machkie

Machyllyn

Machkie's attitude hadn't improved. She was annoyed because she couldn't get that boy out of her mind.

Nobody had talked back to Machkie like that before. No one would ever dare. Not even The Queens. Her Queens.

She couldn't get her mind off the audacity of the guy. No one could touch her. But he did. Not looking at where he was going like the idiot that he is. Wandered as if everything he saw was some miracle.

She was worrying about her contacts then, she had never not once forgotten it but today was particularly tough and she was a mess and people couldn't see her that way.

She stopped. Gasped inaudibly. Someone bumped into her.

Machyllyn had glared at the guy who had no manners. She would have eviscerated his soul right then and there. What were the peasants doing at this school? Most especially what were they doing in her way? Of all days, why was she not in the mood to roast someone today? She lightly shook her head and muttered trash under her breath. She forgot to wear her contacts. For God's sake, she didn't have time for it.

When he realized what he'd done he'd approached her. To apologize. She really had no time. And he already saw her like that, freaky, vulnerable. People apologized to her so often it rarely meant a thing. It was said too much but not meant enough. She raised her chin and walked away.

But then he ran to them. Offered a peace offering.

Machkie snatched the bar to get rid of him. "Whatever. Throw yourself against the wall."

She looked at it. It's her favorite limited-edition chocolate that had been famed decades ago. Salt & Sin, supposedly to appeal both devils and angels as the name suggested: the dark chocolate the sin and the recherché spices the salt. Her mouth watered from the thought of biting into the diametrically opposing citrusy sweetness of the cacao bar and tasting the Himalayan sea salt. Where did he get this anyway?

She took another long look at him. Machkie never looked at guys twice. Never.

He appeared fine. He had prominent jaws and full lower lips. His eyebrows were quite beautiful, remarkable even. A little bit curly on the edges, thick but fine kind of thick. A gorgeous combed-back wavy hair.

What a waste.

This was yet another new student on the block who still didn't know about The Queens. He would soon find out though.

Men are still trash, she thought. No matter how good looking some of them are, they're still all trash. Machkie walked over to a dregsbox installed on building walls that could immediately sort out the garbage to biodegradable and recyclable. She dumped the bar into the bin and proceeded to walk away. And Chassie had to make her more pissed by playing the saint.

Then again, for some reason the universe is testing Machkie, the next day his stupid ass friend dumped a cheap scorching liquid on her. She wanted to scoff at the spunk of the guy.

Machkie's hand still itched to grab his black button-down shirt embroidered with little white roses up the chest stained with the drink she poured on him. But he'd already been too close to her face.

They had the guts to ruin a perfectly comfortable shirt. And he's going to pay for it dearly.

Theo never let her wear anything that wasn't made by their couturier and seamstresses. When Machkie was a kid her mother would tell her that her skin was sensitive and that not any random article of clothing would be suited for her—each fabric must be scrutinized and lab-tested first.