BITE ME

CHAPTER SIX: The Prodigal Son

CHAPTER SIX: The Prodigal Son

Ares Hawthorne had been anything but amused. His cousin was sitting three rows behind, staring right back at him with tangible charisma and evident arrogance. And sitting beside her ... a girl whom he’d never thought he’d meet again.

In Ares’s unfavorable criticism, Bree Carter was an average girl with an even more average personality. In other words, she was dull. Her dark brown hair, scorched and tangled, was a statement of that dullness. She had paper-white skin, almost way too pale that if he’d looked hard enough, he’d probably be able to tell where the rest of her organs goes.

But that was the least of his concerns. Because when he’d looked back at her from over his shoulders, Bree had the expression of someone who was wondering where she saw him from.

And if there was anything in this world that would annoy him more than the existence of his cousin, it was the idea of someone as unremarkable as Bree not recognizing who he was. Maybe arrogance really did run smoothly within the family. Unfortunately for him, he’s too arrogant to see that.

“Good morning,” Professor Albert Walton, their Global Politics professor, greeted them as soon as he walked in. The students murmured back their replies—a confusing mixture of ‘good mornings’ and ‘yes, professors’—then settled back into their seats.

Ares gave Bree one more swift glance before turning his full attention in front.

“Now, before I start, I was informed that you have a new classmate joining you today?”

He could feel half of the room roll their eyes at this. And Ares, seeing as he’s a little sh*t who basks on the misfortunes of his enemies, gave a short lopsided smirk when he saw Bree moving uncomfortably past their classmates who were judging her with every fiber of their being.

“Uh ... “ Bree started, her hands clasped together behind her as she felt everyone’s hard gaze condense into what she could only assume was disdain. “My full name is Aubrey Carter. But you can call me Bree. I used to live in De Sales Hill but because we had to move, I had to transfer schools, and ... here I am.”

A fat guy sitting in the second row, his blonde head designed to look like a punctured beach ball, cleared his throat and raised a hand. “You lived in De Sales Hill?” he repeated dumbly, and Bree nodded with an innocent smile. The guy laughed. “Were you raised by cows?”

Nearly everyone in the room laughed and Ares could see the way Bree’s smile faded into a solemn expression. He didn’t say anything. But if the look on her face at that time did bug him, he was doing a great job hiding it.

“Quit being daft, will you?” Kaz’s lazy drawl broke through the noise of the room that even the professor couldn’t stop. “She wasn’t raised by a cow. Your mother was already way too busy milking you to be able to find the time.”

Now, it was his turn to be humiliated.

Ares didn’t look directly up at the commotion. But he could almost feel a small smile tugging at his lips. And he knows, even if he couldn’t see it, that Bree was also fighting back the same thing.

“But don’t get me wrong, okay, Barney? I’m not fatphobic,” Kaz added and tilted her chair. “I know five fat people. And you’re three of them.”

✧ ✧ ✧

The bell indicating their lunch break rang and everyone scrambled to get past the doors, looking like a torrent of hungry people racing to get to the dining hall. Ares, his bag slung over one shoulder, started walking the other way.

Their school lockers were kept in a windowless monotone gray room, every private locker brocaded with black letters that are indicated at the back of their IDs. Once you walked in, the first thing you’d notice would be the way the gray marble floors seemed to feel detached from the rest of the school’s antiquated French Renaissance history. Normally, he would’ve scorned the idea of a modernistic renovation. Thinking of it as an abomination that was meant to leave a scar on the face of a timeless castle.

But at that moment, Ares couldn’t care less. He was promised his share of privacy in that room. His locker was at the far back, facing a large mirror that took up the entire back wall and surrounded by other lockers that, so far, have not been occupied for years.

“Hey, twinkle-toes, you got a sec?”

A rough groan left Ares’s body and he opened the door to his locker with a frown. “No, Kaz. I don’t have a sec. I’ve got work to do for the council.”

“Oh, yeah? I thought you were your own boss?” Kaz’s smirk had been taunting. Ares just reminded himself over and over again that she wasn’t worth ruining his day over. “By the way, I really need to have a talk with you this time. It’s quite urgent.”

“Look, unless someone is dying—”

“I might as well be.”

“—nothing is that urgent.”

Kaz circled him and leaned against her locker, her arms and feet crossed. “You do know that your father’s not gonna stop until you come back to the estate, right? In five or so years, the old man’s gonna be deciding who gets the company.”

“But you don’t understand!”

“Well, I’m trying my absolute hardest to see things from your perspective. I just can’t get my head that far up my ass.”

Ares clenched his jaw and slammed his locker shut, startling the girl on the other side of the room who immediately took that as a sign to leave for lunch. “Will you just leave me alone, Kaz? I don’t know why you’re even doing this. The last time we talked, you hated my dad.”

“Don’t you think that maybe it was our fault? That’s what Astors do best. They scare the sanity out of people.”

“Well, then, I’m through being an Astor.”

“Oh, you thought you had a choice?” Kaz gave him a short, scornful laugh. “You’re every bit Astor, did you know that? You sound more like the old man than the old man himself.”

Ares clenched his fist around the strap of his bag and left, not once looking back at her who just decided that the conversation was a lost cause.

He ran away several days ago. Selling his watch and every last valuable thing he had brought with him, he found enough money to last him a few months without ever asking for anyone’s help. It had been tough, trading his brand-new first-edition books for retail cheap ones and living off of convenience store food for dinner. But he realized that all of that had been for the best the moment he saw how angry he made his father feel.

He was furious with him. And this was the only way he knew how to react. By rebelling.

As soon as he turned a corner, a familiar blurred figure rushing past the crowd caught his attention but before either of them could even stop, Bree had already smacked face-first into Ares’s chest, successfully pushing him off to the ground.

Bree just looked at him in shock, her hands covering her mouth.

Ares stood up and brushed himself off with a hand, eyes running over the entirety of her as though she’s been every last bit repulsive. “Were you born this stupid, or did you take lessons?”

There was a short pause before she said, “Prick.”

He just raised an eyebrow at her, his sharp gaze nearly breaking her ironclad stare. “I have every right to be.”

Bree scoffed and finally let her hands fall over to her sides. “Why? Because daddy gives you money?” She saw Ares’s expression change—his eyes darker—but she wasn’t at the least bit fazed. “What makes you think your life is worth more than mine?”

“What makes you think your life is worth anything at all?”

She couldn’t respond to this. Off the back of her head, she could hear people whispering as they passed them.

“What kind of flowers do you think would fit at her funeral?”

“Oh, don’t kid yourself. At this point, she wouldn’t even have a funeral.”

“Be careful where you tread, Carter. I’m not one you should be messing with.”