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Authors: Jennifer Estep
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pumpkin orange.
I zipped up my hoodie, stuck my hands in my pockets, and headed across the quad, skirting around the groups of students whoâd stopped to talk, pull out their cell phones, and check their messages. Iâd made it about halfway when high, trilling laughter caught my ear.
I turned my head and saw Jasmine Ashton holding court underneath the towering maple tree that stood in the center of the quad.
Jasmine Ashton was the most popular girl in my class, which was made up of the seventeen-year-old, second-year students. Jasmine was also a Valkyrie with a mane of strawberry-blond hair, bright blue eyes, and the most expensive designer clothes that money could buy. She was the kind of girl who made everyone else look plainâeven her thin, gorgeous, similarly dressed friends. Jasmine sat on an iron bench underneath the maple tree, looking at something on her laptop and giggling, along with Morgan McDougall, her best friend.
With her black hair, hazel eyes, curvy body, and supershort skirts, Morgan was only slightly less beautiful and popular than Jasmine, which made her the number-two diva in our class. Morganâs reputation for being a raging slut whoâd sleep with almost anyone made her number one with the guys, though. Naturally.
Two more girls sat on either side of Jasmine and Morgan, while Daphne Cruz perched on a fleece blanket on the grass in front of the bench. All the popular Valkyrie princesses tended to stick together.
The girls werenât alone. Samson Sorensen stood behind Jasmine, rubbing her shoulders with the rapt devotion of a slave. No wonder, since the Viking was Jasmineâs boyfriend and one of the cutest guys in school. Sandy brown hair, hazel eyes, dimples. Samson could have easily passed for a Calvin Klein model. He also happened to be the captain of the swim team. No football here. All the kids at Mythos did fancy, froufrou sports like swimming, tennis, archery, and fencing. Seriously, fencing. What was the point of that?
Seeing Jasmine and Samson together was like staring at a life-size version of Ken and Barbie. They just looked that perfect together, like theyâd been made for each other.
The other students at Mythos might not pay much attention to me, but I was still able to hear plenty of juicy gossip on my own. Rumor had it that there was Big Trouble in paradise between the happy couple. Evidently, Samson was ready to go All the Way, since he and Jasmine had been dating since last year, but she wasnât ready to cash in her V Card just yetâ
I was so busy staring at them that I slammed into a guy walking the opposite way across the quad. And, of course, my messenger bag slid off my shoulder and hit the ground, spilling my books everywhere. Because thatâs just what happened to girls like me.
âSorry,â I muttered, falling to my knees and attempting to scoop everything back into my bag before anyone got a good look at anything, especially the now-empty tin of chocolate-chip cookies that Grandma Frost had baked for me and the comic books that had slid out. The colorful pages flapped and fluttered like dragonflies in the breeze.
Instead of walking around me like Iâd expected him to, the guy Iâd hit decided to crouch down next to me instead. My eyes flicked up to his face. It took me a second to recognize him, but when I did, I froze. Because Logan Quinn was the guy Iâd just rammed into.
Uh-oh.
Even among the rich warrior kids at Mythos, Logan Quinn was the kind of guy who scared everyone. He did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted to. And a lot of what he liked to do involved hurting people.
Everything about Logan screamed bad boy, from his thick, silky, ink-black hair to his intense ice blue eyes to the black leather jacket that highlighted his broad shoulders. Oh yeah, he was sexy, in a rough, rumpled, I-just-climbed-out-of-some-girlâs-bed kind of way. Apparently, Logan lived up to the hype and was well on his
I zipped up my hoodie, stuck my hands in my pockets, and headed across the quad, skirting around the groups of students whoâd stopped to talk, pull out their cell phones, and check their messages. Iâd made it about halfway when high, trilling laughter caught my ear.
I turned my head and saw Jasmine Ashton holding court underneath the towering maple tree that stood in the center of the quad.
Jasmine Ashton was the most popular girl in my class, which was made up of the seventeen-year-old, second-year students. Jasmine was also a Valkyrie with a mane of strawberry-blond hair, bright blue eyes, and the most expensive designer clothes that money could buy. She was the kind of girl who made everyone else look plainâeven her thin, gorgeous, similarly dressed friends. Jasmine sat on an iron bench underneath the maple tree, looking at something on her laptop and giggling, along with Morgan McDougall, her best friend.
With her black hair, hazel eyes, curvy body, and supershort skirts, Morgan was only slightly less beautiful and popular than Jasmine, which made her the number-two diva in our class. Morganâs reputation for being a raging slut whoâd sleep with almost anyone made her number one with the guys, though. Naturally.
Two more girls sat on either side of Jasmine and Morgan, while Daphne Cruz perched on a fleece blanket on the grass in front of the bench. All the popular Valkyrie princesses tended to stick together.
The girls werenât alone. Samson Sorensen stood behind Jasmine, rubbing her shoulders with the rapt devotion of a slave. No wonder, since the Viking was Jasmineâs boyfriend and one of the cutest guys in school. Sandy brown hair, hazel eyes, dimples. Samson could have easily passed for a Calvin Klein model. He also happened to be the captain of the swim team. No football here. All the kids at Mythos did fancy, froufrou sports like swimming, tennis, archery, and fencing. Seriously, fencing. What was the point of that?
Seeing Jasmine and Samson together was like staring at a life-size version of Ken and Barbie. They just looked that perfect together, like theyâd been made for each other.
The other students at Mythos might not pay much attention to me, but I was still able to hear plenty of juicy gossip on my own. Rumor had it that there was Big Trouble in paradise between the happy couple. Evidently, Samson was ready to go All the Way, since he and Jasmine had been dating since last year, but she wasnât ready to cash in her V Card just yetâ
I was so busy staring at them that I slammed into a guy walking the opposite way across the quad. And, of course, my messenger bag slid off my shoulder and hit the ground, spilling my books everywhere. Because thatâs just what happened to girls like me.
âSorry,â I muttered, falling to my knees and attempting to scoop everything back into my bag before anyone got a good look at anything, especially the now-empty tin of chocolate-chip cookies that Grandma Frost had baked for me and the comic books that had slid out. The colorful pages flapped and fluttered like dragonflies in the breeze.
Instead of walking around me like Iâd expected him to, the guy Iâd hit decided to crouch down next to me instead. My eyes flicked up to his face. It took me a second to recognize him, but when I did, I froze. Because Logan Quinn was the guy Iâd just rammed into.
Uh-oh.
Even among the rich warrior kids at Mythos, Logan Quinn was the kind of guy who scared everyone. He did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted to. And a lot of what he liked to do involved hurting people.
Everything about Logan screamed bad boy, from his thick, silky, ink-black hair to his intense ice blue eyes to the black leather jacket that highlighted his broad shoulders. Oh yeah, he was sexy, in a rough, rumpled, I-just-climbed-out-of-some-girlâs-bed kind of way. Apparently, Logan lived up to the hype and was well on his
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