Cassandra Nolan is known as the daughter of her ridiculously wealthy father, a surprisingly successful business owner, and the most trusting person alive. What else is new?
At first glance, Sam Parkins is the opposite of Cassandra. He seems judgemen...
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"So, you and Derek?"
"Lea, it's been a month. We broke up. I'm not into him, and he's not into me." Lea pouts for approximately five seconds but shrugs after realizing I won't give her more details.
We didn't break up because we were never together. We went on one dinner date a month ago, but as I anticipated, it didn't work out—Sam didn't react to our dating rumors in any way, but I guess it doesn't matter.
Yes, it does. So much I want to cry.
And Derek wasn't quite my type. He was overly confident and made it clear he wanted us to go to his place to make out and stuff—his words, not mine. Gladly, after I rejected his bold proposal, we agreed to return to being friends.
Derek sits at the back of the class, chatting unnecessarily loudly with his friends about a cheerleader he "hooked up with." I roll my eyes in exaggeration, but when Derek shouts across the room for a spare pen, I give him my toothiest smile and throw him my pencil.
"It's been two months!" Lea whisper-shouts.
Furrowing my eyebrows, I turn on my chair, ignoring the warning glare our history teacher slips me. Not that it'd be as hostile as the one he gives Derek.
"What are you talking about now?" I question, my gaze flickering to Lea's crinkled, perfectly trimmed eyebrows.
"Since the whole Sam case ended. Don't you think it's time to move on?" Lea pops her gum.
"Eating isn't allowed in the classroom," our teacher reminds Lea.
"I'm chewing," Lea answers boldly, popping the gum again. Mr. Heaming meets Lea's narrowed eyes with a dominating stare, but Lea doesn't yield.
"Buckle up," I mouth. It's always the same with Lea. Like a child, she wants to test how far she can push with the teachers. The funny thing is that she always ends up with the winning hand. It doesn't matter she clearly isn't supposed to.
"Detention after school for you, Leandra," I know Mr. Heaming purposefully uses Lea's birth name, the one she hates, to get a rise out of her. Lea, the female warrior, doesn't flinch.
"Cool," she nods, then returns her attention to me. Mr. Heaming is going to give her hell over this.
"Leandra," he thunders, but it's pointless.
"One of these days, the school is going to get rid of you," I mumble, avoiding significant movements to stay off Mr. Heaming's detention list.
"Oh, calm down. You say it as if they would kill me. My mom pays their salaries. They won't lift their fingers."
I shake my head with a light chuckle. Actually, Lea's mom doesn't pay their salaries, but she does make considerable donations to the school each year.
Mr. Heaming writes a page number on the board and assigns us to read until he returns from reporting Lea to the principal.
"Scary!" Lea shouts after Mr. Heaming, who pretends he doesn't hear her. Lea could set the whole school on fire, and her mother would explain why her dearest Leandra would be inspired to act that way.
