The redhead arched a sassy brow at me. "You kinda need a miracle for all of that." She indicated to my frizzed-out Sasquatch hair, and I cringed.
She laughed, then headed into a cubicle while I squeezed out a small amount into my hand and went to work smoothing it through my tangled mess of hair. By the time I was finished—after having to squeeze out more product three times—I had to hand it to the girl. It really was a miracle balm.
"Thanks," I said after she finished washing her hands, holding the tube out to her. "You probably saved me some seriously shitty first impressions."
As I said that, I took a better look at her, and my stomach sank. She was gorgeous, perfectly dressed, not a hair out of place—probably thanks to her miracle balm—and holding a black leather handbag that no doubt cost more than an entire year’s rent back home. Chances were, this chick was one of the school bullies.
Contrary to my morbid thoughts, she gave me a genuine smile and shook her head. "Keep it. You need it more than me today." She picked up a plush white hand towel to dry her hands, then tossed it in a little laundry basket. "You must be the new student."
I gave a small nod. I guess it was pretty obvious just by looking at me. "Violet," I introduced myself.
"I'm Mattie," she replied. "Good luck for your first day."
She didn't hang around for any more chitchat, but she also didn't sneer or call me names, so that had to be a win. Right?
With a sigh, I ran a hand through my now tangle-free, silky hair.
"You really are miracle balm," I told the tube of product in my hand and tucked it into my bag before leaving the bathrooms in search of my room.
As it turned out, the map really didn't give me the full scale of the school-within-a-castle. The place was freaking huge, and some twenty minutes later I still hadn’t located the girls wing.
Voices, cheering, and the distinctive sound of a ball hitting a wall reached my ears as I wandered down yet another endless corridor, and I paused, checking my map.
“Indoor sports center,” I read from the page, and my mood lifted. When I’d seen all the snow, I’d worried we would be cooped up indoors for half the year, but of course Arbon Academy thought of that. I dropped my bag beside the doors, then slipped into the sports center as quietly as I could.
Nothing could have prepared me for what was behind those doors. It was practically an indoor stadium, complete with tiered seating and a full-sized, floodlit soccer field.
No prizes for guessing what the school's sport of choice was. If the million-dollar—or more—indoor field wasn't a dead giveaway, the athletic, sweaty boys engaged in what appeared to be a very serious game would have been. Or maybe it was the crowd of girls cheering on the sidelines.
I made my way farther into the arena, my gaze sweeping over all the features of the place, wondering if they catered to all sports and activities or just soccer. I really hoped they had some solid gym equipment or even just a running track indoors; otherwise I’d have to invest in some warmer workout clothes.
Invest with what money, though?
“Watch out!”
The warning came just a millisecond before a high-speed soccer ball damn near flattened my face, but thankfully that was all the time I needed. My hands flew up, instincts working faster than my brain, and I caught the ball just inches from my nose.
“Holy shit,” someone exclaimed from the soccer field, but I didn’t notice who’d spoken. Every boy on the synthetic field stared at me as I scowled back at them.
“Thanks for the warning,” I snapped, sarcastic as fuck as I flexed my fingers against the ball.
A blond guy jogged over to me, running his hand through his shaggy hair and offering me a sheepish smile. Holy crap, scratch that, a seriously gorgeous blond guy with blue eyes that were the exact color of the ocean. Or what I imagined the ocean looked like, anyway.
“We’re so sorry,” he apologized as he drew closer to me. “Some guys just have zero control over the ball when they see pretty girls wandering into the arena.” His voice held an accent that hinted at somewhere exotic, not the Swiss I’d heard so far, but a drawl that tingled down my spine, and I found myself eager to hear more.
“Fuck you, Alex,” one of the other boys spat, and I arched a brow in curiosity. That was no good-natured ribbing between friends. The guy who’d spoken—tall with dark hair, a dark T-shirt, and an even darker glare—must have been the one who’d kicked a ball at my face. “Get the ball and get back on the field. We don’t have all day for you to chat up the charity case.”
My stomach lurched, and my eyes narrowed in a scowl. Apparently everyone already knew who I was. So much for good first impressions.
“No worries,” I muttered in reply to the blond boy, holding out the ball for him to take. When he did, our fingers brushed, and if I was more of a hopeless romantic, I’d have said sparks flew. Whatever it was, my stomach fluttered and my cheeks heated under his intense sapphire gaze.
He shook his head dismissively. “Ignore him, he’s just butthurt that his team is losing the match.” His grin was all mischief, and I needed to blink a couple of times just to make sure I wasn’t staring like a loon. “I’m Alex, by the way.” He shifted the ball to one hand, then offered the other for me to shake. “You’re Violet, right?”
I cringed slightly, still feeling the dark-haired boy glaring at me like I was a fucking trespasser. “Yup, that’s me. I guess the whole school already knows who I am, huh?” I took his hand, though, and tried not to focus on how nice his grip was. Not too firm, like he was trying to prove his masculinity, but not so weak that he was automatically assuming I was a fragile flower. Despite my name.
Alex gave a small shrug. “Not hard to guess.” His hand left mine, and I was pretty sure I imagined the way his fingers lingered a little on my inner wrist. “How are you settling in?”
“Uh…” My brows shot up. “Well, I pretty much just got here. Someone was supposed to show me around, but they never showed so…” I bit my tongue, mentally chastising myself for immediately leaping into complaining. I was lucky to be at Arbon Academy. It was my one chance at a better life. If that meant being a social outcast for a few years, well then tough shit. I cleared my throat as Alex continued to stare at me. “So, I’m still finding my feet.”
Embarrassed now, I dodged his piercing gaze and looked past him to where the rest of the soccer players stood around chatting and laughing, but the tall, angry guy still had his gaze on us. Glaring. Hostile.
Who the fuck pissed in his cornflakes this morning?
“That’s shitty,” Alex commented, not seeming to notice how my attention had wavered. “You’ll probably get a lot of that, though. Not many of these pretentious rich kids are accepting of the, ah, lottery winners.” He had the grace to look a little apologetic, but he had no reason to. He’d been perfectly nice so far.
I shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me. I’m here to get an education, not make friends.”
For some reason, Alex found this funny and started laughing. I didn’t fully get why that was amusing but kind of loved the sound of his laugh. Damn, was it that time of the month already? I was never usually so hormonal.