Every time I saw the dining hall it took my breath away, and I saw it three times a day. It was like a palace, so long and wide that the entire Pruitt student body could have fit inside. The interior was a study in beige and brown, all wood and stone. Aside from the windows of course, which were sprawling works of stained glass. From the ceiling sparkling chandeliers hung, light reflected off them and down onto all the students. The dining tables were long. Each one was big enough for maybe fifteen students.
Normally I sat at a table with outcasts. They weren't hard to find. Kids would sit spaced out along the table benches, with their heads down, focused on books or phones. As I carried my tray, laden with salmon, through the room I felt the pull towards those familiar safe havens. I stayed on target though, my eyes narrowed.
Most of the varsity lacrosse girls, the upperclassmen at least, all sat together. All of them were Pruitt pretty, with clean, straight, hair and high, tinkling, laughs that put me on edge. Despite that, I didn't stray from my path. I made straight for the side of the table where Heather sat at her place next to Talia Humphrey, her second in command.
As I neared my heart began to beat faster. I curled my shoulders in, trying to look smaller, less threatening. My tray shook in my hands and I clenched them into fists to keep it from dropping. I widened my eyes like I was lost, hoping for an innocent look.
Every head turned towards me when I slid on to the end of Heather's bench. Their eyes stayed fixed on mine. The message in each of them was clear. As clear as if they'd screamed it in my face. You don't belong here. I shook off the numb sadness that clawed at my chest. "Hey," It came out in a squeak. I tried it again. "Hey." That was better. Sure sounding, but not confrontational. At least, I hoped not. "Sorry, I don't wanna like bother you or anything. I'm just super freaked out." I turned to Heather, recognizing her authority. She alone would decide whether or not I could stay. "It's just... This guy keeps following me. He won't leave me alone."
She had on her practiced smile, but underneath it, in the creases and folds of her facade, I saw interest. It was genuine. "What?" She asked. Her voice was icy, still filled with condescension.
"That guy," I said, pointing. Fletcher was almost overdoing it. He sat alone at a table, facing me. One leg was draped over the other, and he leaned his head against his arm. His whole pose was a practiced nonchalance. His blazer lay draped on the bench next to him. His tie was loose, thrown over one shoulder. He stared at me like I was the only one in the room. There was a fire in his dark eyes. They were the only thing about him that didn't look calm.
"Oh. My. God." The words came from Maggie Fortworth. She was a junior, like me. She reminded me of a minnie heather, down her diamond earrings, and her red lipstick. The awe in her face was replaced with a kind of fear as she realized she'd spoken aloud. I didn't blame her, she'd spoken without her queen's permission. Luckily for her, Heather responded almost as quickly.
"No way!" She was pushing toward me, leaning forward so she could speak across Talia. "That's Fletcher Highgaurd."
"He's actually insane." Talia amended. She was totally expressionless, staring across the table, not looking at me. It was almost funny, how good she was at not caring.
"Oh, wow." I gave a little shiver, feeling sick. "That's scary."
Heather put a hand on my shoulder like she was confiding in me. "He almost got sent to jail last year." She smiled. "Don't worry..."
Then, she stood. Heather at her full height was enough to take anyone's breath away. Her hips swayed as she made for Fletcher's table. Her heels clacked against the tile floor. He looked up at her approach. His eyebrows pulled together like he was actually a little afraid. I almost felt bad.
"Highguard, honey," She bent so her face was level with his. Her voice dripped with enough sweetness that it could have caught a fly. She lifted a hand to touch his cheek. For a moment I thought I saw Fletcher's chest heave like he was afraid, but I blinked and it was gone. "I know you're all alone now, but it won't do you any good to go chasing after Murphy. She's with us, and she knows you're a desperate creep." Her tone turned sour. "So be a good boy and go back to whatever little hole you crawled out of, okay?" She gave him a little slap, right where she'd just stroked his cheek. The second hand embarrassment was overpowering. I knew Heather was bad, but this was something else. Fletcher stood, his face red. I could almost see the steam coming off of him. For a moment I was worried for Heather, because he looked like he was about to suckerpunch her, and I wouldn't put it past Fletcher. I didn't need to worry though. He turned without saying a word and stormed through the main doors. The whole lunchroom went silent as they slammed shut.
"Well," Heather said. I hadn't even noticed that she'd come back to the table. She sat next to me, pushing Talia over. "You won't have to worry about him anymore." She told me, smiling as if nothing had happened.
She didn't know how wrong she was.
"Your plan worked," I told Fletcher when I finally found him. He was in the journalism office, his feet propped up on the desk. He had a thick hardcover book in one hand. In the other, he held his #1 Mom mug.
"I know." Fletcher had that same scheming look in his eye as the day he first brought me into his office.
"I need your help." He'd told me. The desperation in his eyes had stopped me in my tracks. I wasn't used to people needing things from me. I wasn't used to them needing me in general. "This school..." His jaw worked like the words hurt. "It's fucked, okay.?
The sudden seriousness freaked me out. "What?"
"We're all so obsessed with our secrets and status..." He trailed off again, but I hadn't missed the use of the word we. Fletcher hadn't come off as someone who fit in with the rest of Pruitt. "You're new here so you don't know, but there's- There's this group."
"Group?" I asked.
"Society, whatever you want to call them... The Pruitt Lords."
The idea of a Pruitt secret society was so funny I had to laugh. I couldn't help but imagine the stupid handshakes and passwords. "Seriously? The Lords? That's amazing."
Fletcher didn't even smile. "It's not just a silly little thing. They're called The Pruitt Lords because they rule over this school. They can get away with anything they want." The look in his eyes made all of it seem a lot less funny.
I swallowed. "This is good information to have, I guess, but it doesn't really have anything to do with me." I wanted to get out of that room. The whole thing was getting too intense for me, and it didn't help that Fletcher was standing close. So close the swirling blue of his eyes and the flare of his nostrils. I flushed as my eyes fell unintentionally on his mouth and his full, pursed, lips.
"It has everything to do with you. I'm going to dethrone the lords, and I need your help."
There it was again. Me. He needed me. I couldn't quite wrap my head around it. "Why?"
"You're new, so you still have some mobility in the social circles here, and you're here on a scholarship. You're not a legacy like most of the freshman. They're too afraid of The Lords to go up against them. Also, you're pretty. You play lacrosse, and you're good. So, you already have a lot of the qualities we need to get in with the lords."
He said pretty like it was nothing, but it wasn't. I knew I looked fine, but I also knew I was nothing special, not the kind of girl who got noticed. I'd never really thought of myself as pretty. Then again, I also knew that wasn't the most important thing for me. I wasn't just good at lacrosse. I was great. That much I was sure of, and it annoyed me that he'd sold me so short. "What makes you think I'm going to help you?" I growled.
It was only then that he smiled. "You hate them as much as I do."
That had done it. He was right. I hated the rich Pruitt kids. With their straight smiles and their dismissive words. I hated how they looked down on me, and I knew that whoever the "Lords" were they would be the most entitled and egotistical out of all of them.
I wasn't wrong.
Fletcher explained that The Lord's were a boys only group, a fact that had me wrinkling my nose, but according to him, there was a group of girls who attended most of their functions. The Lord's Girls, he called them.
"And you want me to be a Lord's girl? I asked.
He smiled. "I want you to be The King's Girl."
"What?"
"The Lord's have a new king every year. The junior chosen by the last king. He rules over them and selects one of the Pruitt girls to be at his side. It's an honor."
"That is a lot of very hetero, very sexist, bullshit."
He laughed. "It is, and we're going to bring it all down."
The first step of Fletcher's plan had been to get in with The Lord's girls. Apparently, most of the lacrosse girls were members, and Heather was the favorite for King's Girl. No surprise there. But to get them to like me I had to bring them gossip, and get them to sympathize with and trust me. The only way to do that was to throw Fletcher under the bus. For reasons he refused to explain, the rest of the student body hated him. Apparently, The Lords more than anyone else. Probably because he was intent on destroying them. That made him the perfect punching bag to help put me in a good position with Heather, and it seemed like his plan had worked.
He certainly looked pleased.