Duke Kingsley is the reigning President of Goldwater Academy. He made sure everything was done in perfect order and only the highest standards were allowed to be portrayed by students.
He was Immaculate.
And I, Norah Saunders, am about to turn his...
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Our drive back to school felt peaceful until I saw Goldwater Academy's beautiful structure zipping past us. Confused, I swung my head towards Duke.
"Um..."
He turned the radio volume down, which was playing some sort of indie music and kept his head towards the road. "You like food, yes?"
I blinked. "What?"
"Girls seemingly enjoy food on a whole other level than males...so I'm asking what you-"
"But why?"
My heart began hammering in my chest. Was he asking me out? Why did he want to buy me lunch? Did I like the idea of him buying me lunch? I suppose I was a bit hungry-
He pressed on the brakes harder than needed as we approached a stoplight and I groaned as the seatbelt squeezed across my chest. I gripped the door handle tightly, my rage fuming. "What the bloody hell!"
"Why can't you ever answer questions directly?" He finally turned towards me.
"Why must you always get things your way?" I retorted.
His eyebrows rose. "Did you just shout at me?"
I opened my mouth to shout some more but caught myself upon remembering my plan.
No fighting with the Duke Norah.
But he made this way more difficult than it needed to be and my short temper doesn't appreciate it.
"No," I lied, "My voice accidentally raised because you stopped the car suddenly," Knowing he wasn't buying my lame excuse, I continued. "Plus, why do you care whether I eat or not?"
He pulled his glasses halfway down his nose, staring at me like I was crazy. "Who said I cared? It's already lunchtime and I'm starving. I don't know why I thought asking for your recommendations was a good idea," he scoffed, pushed his glasses up and looked towards the road again.
Slightly embarrassed, I folded my arms and looked ahead as we drove into the main square. I suppose I may have jumped to conclusions.
"I don't know anywhere in town. I only moved here two weeks ago., I mumbled, looking at the various Cafes and restaurants swishing past us.
"Your tone shows your disappointment."
"It doesn't matter. We can't always control everything in our lives," I replied, fully understanding that my father was only trying to protect me.
"I beg to differ," he said, and I looked at him curiously. "If it's my life, I must be able to control how I will be affected by it, especially since I have the money to do so."
I scoffed. "Correction, you mean your dad's money."
"Correction invalid. I mean my money," he turned towards me then, no doubt with an icy gaze eyes behind those glasses.
