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

Chapter 28: Back to Square One

Lunch came starting as the rich kids sat at their table, noise ringing in the air as they began to talk about this and freaking that.

The students who got into St. George's on scholarship or like me, whose grandmother was friends with the headmistress, were to serve the spoiled brats their hot meal, pushing silver carts filled with steaming plates of food and a large jug of apple juice. The headmistress and cooks gave the servers early lunches so that we wouldn't have to worry about our own appetite.

When I pushed the cart toward another table, I stopped a bit and narrowed my eyes. There was Michael and his crew. But it wasn't the same without Frederick by his side. Or Viv with me there.

All around him were the same people I used to hang out with, only there were more girls added to the group. It was a good thing I left them because, I swear, I would've smacked them all with the cooks' spatula.

With an angry exhalation through my nostrils, I pushed the cart and stopped at their table. For some reason, I always ended up serving them.

It was too late for me to switch tables with Cady Klarks. She was already starting to place steaming plates at the table she was assigned to.

Opening the silver covers of each plate, I served them all silently. The table was still noisy, but it kind of toned down a bit because I was there and Michael was, too.

He immediately stopped talking and accepted the plate I placed him. I practically banged the plate in front of him but he only grabbed his fork and knife, beginning to eat his steamed chicken with rich tomato sauce and mashed potatoes with gravy. I poured their glasses a hefty load of apple juice, then one of them began to talk.

"So Michael," Jenna Higgins said, batting her lashes at him, "wanna come to the movies with me? I heard there's this awesome new movie that is all the talk right now."

Michael shrugged, not looking at her.

The guys began talking about soccer, while the girls tried to persuade Michael to go with them to the movies, the beach, dinner, rockclimbing, or the park. Or to their place.

But all the while, Michael was busy eating while tapping on his iPhone with his left hand as the other was forking the mashed potatoes.

"Not sure, girls," he told them quietly but with an edge to his voice. I knew him too well to notice everything, and this made me grit my teeth involuntarily.

"More juice, please, before you go, Kells," Mitchell Llewelyn begged kindly, giving me a smile. I stomped toward him with the jug of juice in my hand. I poured it, then did the same into Clint Hefford's glass.

"But why?" the girls suddenly cried to Michael, who was still ignoring them.

"Because I'm not in the mood to go with any of you," he said plainly.

"You're acting so strange right now," Stacey told him.

It seemed like he suppressed rolling his eyes. Meanwhile, I grumbled. I really hated that girl.

"Just before lunch, you were totally flirting with me," she murmured. "Now you don't want to go with me back home later."

There was some part of me that wanted to jump up and grin, but I didn't. I forced myself not to.

Besides, Michael had been an ass. I knew I'd made a huge mistake with the whole plan eons ago; and I knew Michael had the right to be mad at me -- I even accepted him having his fun in England...but that didn't mean he had the right not to feel sorry for the things he'd done too.

So I pursed my lips and waited if anyone still wanted to drink the stupid juice. It was a rule that you had to stand and serve for fifteen minutes after you actually gave the students their meal. I was only waiting for my time.

"Michaaael," the girls chorused.

Some of the guys groaned because they were getting annoying. Huh. I could join with them on that one.

Another server named Kelly Pricken, who was a few tables away, eyed me and mouthed something I couldn't understand. She was waiting for her time to come up as well.

What? I mouthed back.

Blah blah blah blee blah! she mouthed back.

I REALLY didn't understand what she was saying.

I scowled. What?

She rolled her eyes and turned her gaze to the headmistress. When Mrs. Smith was busy talking with the teachers, Kelly quickly speed-walked toward me, her apron around her waist.

"What were you trying to tell me?" I demanded in a whisper.

"Someone dropped a note into my locker, but it's addressed to you. I think the person who's behind it messed up our locker number. Anyway, here it is," she told me, stuffing a white card into my hand. "See ya later, Kells!"

I stared at her, then at the note. "Yeah, Kells, you too."

As I waited for my time to come up, I leaned on my cart and opened the note.

Keller, meet me in the second storage room. East wing. See you after school.

-C

Was this some kind of sick joke? Whoever wrote this stupid note was a moron. But still...I was curious. Howerver, this person might kidnap me! He might strangle me, kill me! Who knows? There might be the Strangler inside the school campus.

But I was still curious.

With a sigh, I placed the note inside my pocket and checked my watch. My fifteen minutes were up. Groaning, I pushed my cart, not realizing then that Michael left his table as well, leaving his group behind.

^^^^^

Calculus was about to be done, and it was my last subject for the day.

I couldn't shake the feeling inside me. What was it? In my hands, opened and re-opened for the hundredth time, was the letter that Kelly gave me, who was mistaken to be me.

Well, Kelly and I were both called Kells at some point. And our lockers were one locker away from each other. Still. It had my name written on the note. Keller, not Kelly.

"Now for your final homework --"

All the students began to whine.

Our teacher ignored us and gave us our task for the day. With that, the bell rang and everyone quickly got up from their seats, leaving the room with such speed, it was a miracle nobody got hurt in the stampede they created.

I walked out of them room, adjusting my mailman bag and my books. I checked the note again, furrowing my brows at the sender.

C?

C?

Who the hell was C???

Maybe Clint Hefford? Well, if he liked me, then he wouldn't have mistaken Kelly's locker with mine, right? So it wasn't him. I thought about all the guys with names starting with the letter C, but I only knew a few.

Or maybe it was a girl?

Oh crap, why would it be a chick?

Whatever. I'd find out soon enough.

"Whoever you are, C, you better make my time worth it. I don't want to die," I grumbled, marching my way toward the east wing.

The place was deserted, but I heard some scuffling inside the second storage room. I knew that place. It was filled with utility items. You could say it was the janitor's closet, but the school was too fancy so they named it the "second storage room."

With a snort, I walked toward the door and pulled it open, a scowl on my face.

"You," I scoffed, masking my surprise. I crossed my arms. "What do you want?"

Michael Cutting -- C! Cutting! Why the hell didn't I think of that? -- stared at me.

He opened his note. "I might have to ask you the same question," he said in a more gentle tone.

Before anyone could answer anyone, two people in black ensembles pushed me inside, locking Michael and me from the inside of the storage room.

Again.