Crushing on Royalty (The Cuttings #1) [To Be Reconstructed]

4 | Dunk and Plunk

When everyone got out of history, I couldn't help but notice Michael and Frederick talking in hushed tones to one another in the back row of the classroom.

It totally piqued my curiosity but I tried to hold myself together because I knew it wasn't my business to interfere at all in their lives.

But really, when they'd gotten back from Mrs. Smith's office, Michael had looked somehow arrogantly smug while his cousin's lips had been twisted into a combination of a scowl and frown. I really didn't know what Michael's father had said to them in the headmistress's office, but I knew that Michael'd seemed satisfied and Frederick had looked like he was in pain.

Then I had seen Michael slap Frederick on the back heartily, saying, "You'll be petted again, cous!"

Frederick'd only grumbled.

Hmm. What did Michael mean by "petted?" I mean, it wasn't my business and all, but you know. Just my curiosity. Plus, I hadn't seen Michael's father yet. Not even once. Considering his son was rich and spoiled, I guessed he was an entrepreneur or something -- maybe a stockbroker? A CEO of a vastly booming business?

With a grunt, I hefted my backpack over my right shoulder and filed out of the classroom with Viv to get ready for lunch. Mr. Logan instructed us to pick up our "baby" later and take it home so we could start caring for it.

He said each flour had a unique serial code at the bottom, so we really couldn't replace it if ever something happened to it.

As everyone went to their respective lockers and fled toward the lunchroom, we all split to head to our table. We didn't have those cliché cliques, but somehow, wherever Michael went, all the cool kids were there. And that included Viv and -- for some reason, me -- because Frederick insisted that we should eat with them.

Michael wasn't happy about that, and neither was I.

As I settled my books for the next class on our lunch table, I quickly went to the kitchen and placed an apron on my waist, tying my natural waves lazily with a hair band. The rich kids were all waiting to be served outside the kitchen, chattering about this and that.

Nothing could beat the decibel of a school lunch room.

I thought I was going to be deaf or something, but I ignored it with a concentrated look, heading to Viv's side with a cartload of food on a hot platter. I gave her her meal, then I circled around our table, giving everyone their food.

When I reached Michael, though, that was when everything started to go bad.

"Roast beef," I said blankly, placing the plateful of food in front of him. "Eat."

Michael raised a brow at me. "I thought you hated serving me?"

I rolled my eyes. "I got assigned to serve the food here. I had no choice, as you can see quite clearly, my lord," I muttered.

Somehow, Michael's eyes twinkled, but they hardened just as quickly. I saw his eyes fill with sarcasm at every turn, quietly asking, You think I'm your lord? Funny. Also, Frederick choked on his bottle of Crystal Geyser when I'd said what gad come out of my mouth.

Michael and Viv had to whack him on the back several times before he started breathing normally like a sane human being ought to breathe.

I looked at Frederick oddly, hands on my hips. "What was that all about?"

Frederick shook his head, wiping his mouth with a white linen. "The water. I drank too much," he choked, coughing again. Viv and everyone else -- except me and Michael -- looked at him with deep sympathy.