3

FLORENCE

I tensed as an unknown presence slid in next to me, my eyes focused firmly out the window. A whiff of his overbearing cologne clogged my senses, making my eyes water from the burning sensation. It was worse than when middle schoolers thought bathing in Axe body spray would bring about the pussy. I fought the urge to grab my bags and move to another cabin, knowing full well that any other place worth sitting for the remainder of the ride would be taken. That and the fact that moving now would raise suspicion. So, I just tugged my leather jacket – given to me by Aidan himself – tighter around my shoulders as if I was cold. His earthy smell surrounded me just enough that I could ignore whatever nasty scent the presence beside me had doused itself in.

We rode in silence for several minutes as the scenery changed from rundown streets and backroads to rich neighborhoods, littered with gold-gated parks and monuments as tall as buildings. Not sure who they were supposed to represent but it wasn't anyone I had learned about in school.

A shriek shot from the presence beside me, "There it is!"

I glared back at the presence for disturbing the peace. He was among the tidiest, put-together, highschool-looking kid I had ever seen in my life, despite the cologne. The fucking cologne was going to suffocate me. My nose twitched involuntarily, but I continued to ignore it as I took in his small form. He was dressed in a green button-down shirt, adorned with a plaid vest, khaki pants, and shoes shiny enough to see my reflection in. His slicked-back hair made him look like a douchebag, despite the innocence radiating in his eyes. He excitedly pointed out the window again as I followed his finger.

And sure enough, there it was. Fucking Pleasant Grove Institute. It looked like a fucking castle, like something little princes and princesses went to, which wasn't far off. Aidan might have gotten me a free ticket into the place, but I had done my own research. It wasn't just a place for rich kids to get an education. It was the place for rich kids to get an education. I was going to stick out like a sore thumb, what with my love for leather, artistic abstract tees, lack of fashion, and total disregard for social rules. I had no fucking problems going to class in my pj's, but I had an inkling that that wouldn't fly at this place.

Fuck me. The campus just kept going. I knew for a fact that the main building was the only one I'd have to worry about. All of the other sections belonged to different fraternities and sororities, none of which I would be pledging to. Keep my head down and stay out of everyone's way. That was my one and only motto. Well, that and passing the fucking graduate classes Aidan had signed me up for. He said it would be weird being 23 and starting as a freshman. I held an imaginary middle finger up to the sky, hoping he could feel it.

A faint tap on my shoulder brought me back to reality. Right, the little fucktwad was still here. "I guess you're going there too, right? Nice to meet you." He stuck out his hand with a big grin as if I was also supposed to be overly ecstatic to meet someone else going to the Institute. His clothes didn't scream money. I tilted my head to the side as I gave him a once-over. Maybe he was a scholarship kid? He took his hand back and shrugged, not minding my disrespect. His eyes drifted to my two bags, "You brought stuff with you?"

I frowned and stared at him. He sounded… confused? "Yeah?"

He scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. "I'm having mine delivered." Was that supposed to be an accomplishment? I furrowed my brows, trying to get a read on the kid. He was starting to sound bratty and I really fucking hated brats.

Besides, it was stupid to have items delivered when he could have easily just carried them on the train.

It was my turn to shrug. "It's only a few bags."

The kid's eyes flashed with understanding, but for what, I wasn't sure. His smile returned in full force with a quick nod. "I get it. Mom didn't want me to turn out like dad so she told me to ride the train like normal people. It's quite fascinating that people take transportation with strangers. I couldn't do it." I grimaced. The kid was a piece of work. I think he caught the confusion in my expression because all of a sudden, he wasn't so friendly. His lighthearted expression switched to distaste as if I was the reason for the bitter tension in the air.

He choked on a laugh, crossing a leg over the other with a haughty air to it, "Oh wait… that's all you have? Fuck, you're one of the scholarship students or something, right?" Why the fuck was he talking to me like that? Realization dawned on me. He wasn't a scholarship kid at all. He snuggled back into his seat, his lip curling up in disgust. It was almost hilarious how fast his hospitality changed once he realized we weren't on the same income levels. "I never thought I'd meet one that came to the school though. You seem a bit… old." The confidence that I would have expected from a rich kid began to seep through – the hardened look in his eyes and the way he seemed to stare down at me even though he was easily a head shorter than my 5'6".

I clenched my fists and bit my tongue, taking a few deep breaths before answering. I didn't need to beat down a kid to prove a point. Besides and unfortunately, it seemed that someone would miss this guy. "I'm in graduate school." Why was I even entertaining a conversation with him? He seemed genuinely intrigued by my lack of status, as well as why I was intending the Institute at all.

"And you're going here?" His eyebrows rose in surprise. I felt the train slowing to a stop, instantly grateful for a reason to leave my seat. But the kid either didn't notice or didn't care, "You must have pulled some strings. It's a pretty elite school." I muttered an 'uh-huh' and grabbed my bags, before shuffling to the nearest exit.

Three ways off the platform. No one following me. No one suspicious except that dickwad in the trench coat at the end of the platform.

The kid was following on my heels and still talking.

Adding the fucking kid to the list. He's suspicious as fuck for following me.

I stepped onto the pavement, reserving my 'fuck I made it' stretch for later. No need to give the kid more ammunition. There was one difference between here and the station Aidan had dropped me off at. The fucking elegance of the place. Everything seemed lined with golds and silvers. Fuck, even the cars – yes, even the taxis – looked like they cost upwards of $100,000 give or take. I hadn't seen half of the colors on automobiles like these in my entire life. And I had been around.

Butlers, or whatever rich people called their drivers, stood poised by the passenger side, eyes searching the crowds for their bosses. It pained me that most of the 'bosses' were my age or younger. These kids were rolling in money that I could only dream of even looking at. Hell, the most money I had ever seen in one place was the three hundred dollars that we had gathered in ninth grade for a school trip.

The kid tapped my shoulder and I clenched my fists again. Was this a rich people thing? Touching random people? Sure, we had shared one uneventful conversation but fuck if I was okay with his hands on me. It was the exact opposite of the feeling I got when Aidan touched me. Fuck, I already missed him. Any more of this kid's touching and I was going to smell like his fucking cologne. "Hey, never got your name. Wanna ride?" He pointed over to a particularly sleek black car, his butler standing by an open door, his lips tightened into a straight line.

"Mr. Edmundson?" The butler called, apparently again, because the kid hadn't answered him the first time. The kid held up a rude middle finger and then stared at me for an answer.

I wanted to throat-punch the kid. He had a driver and he just disrespected the guy? Fucking hell… wait. Edmundson?

Like hell was I going to show up as his charity case. The Edmundson's owned one of the most expensive perfume lines on the west coast. I knew that because I had stolen a few and resold them way above the asking price. Membership was required just to look at the new releases. The kid's fucking smell made sense now. Of course, he'd be walking around, drenched in his own product. I shook my head and waved him off. I could walk the few miles or take a bus to campus. I just needed to figure out which one.

He chuckled and dragged me to the car anyway, ripping my bags from my hand and shoving it at the butler. "What kind of man would I be if I left you here to fend for yourself? Come on."

You're not even a man. You're a fucking child.

I wanted to struggle against him, but the vice grip on my wrist told me that he was hiding strength beneath his lean frame. That and a whole lot of fucking power. What would it look like if I struggled against the heir to the Edmundson fortune? I slid in beside him, the velvet seats and ambient lighting soothing the experience, as I tried really hard not to gag at the additional assault of yet more stifling cologne. I wanted to relish in the awesomeness that was rich people's style, but I was too damn distracted by the way the kid was staring at me. I liked it when Aidan did it, adored it, even showed off a few times under that stare. But this? This was just creepy.

I turned my head to the window, hastily pressing the down arrow for fresh air. I tried not to be dramatic as I inhaled like I hadn't fucking breathed in my entire life, but the chuckle from behind me told me that my discreet attempt was anything but. "Sorry about the cologne. It's a requirement. Dad says we have to wear our products so that everyone knows we support it."

I knew I shouldn't. I knew I shouldn't make an enemy out of this kid. But like fuck, he was asking for it. "Did you have to bathe in it?" I met his gaze with my own, instantly feeling regret as the void in his eyes deepened. Gone was the innocent kid I had first met on the train. Seconds later, the expression disappeared and I would have believed that I imagined it if his jaw wasn't still clenched beneath the newly minted happiness washing over his features.

Fuck.

I whipped my head back to the window as the car started down the road, closing my eyes and focusing on the delicate thrum of the wheels passing over the pavement. I wasn't sleeping. I was listening for any sign that I might need to exit the car.

God, he was still fucking staring.