He jerked his hand away from my face. “Pathetic. Are you going to cry? Really?” Nixon scowled and held out his hand to Chase. Chase handed him some Purell.
“Don’t want to get farm on my hands, you understand.” Nixon smiled such a mean smile that I literally had to clench my hands at my sides to keep from punching him in the face and getting expelled.
“Don’t even think about it, New Girl. You touch me, I tell the dean, who just so happens to be Phoenix’s dad. We control the teachers because, guess what? My dad pays for everything. Now, if you have any questions about what we talked about here, please direct them to Tex and Phoenix, kay?”
The two guys who had been standing back from us waved and then flipped me off.
“That’s how they say hello,” Nixon explained. “Alright, Chase, it seems our job here is done. Oh and, Farm Girl, don’t forget. Classes start tomorrow. Welcome to Hell.”
Chapter Two
Four tears. I counted them. I only let four escape, which was pretty good considering the circumstances.
I left my suitcase outside and prayed it wouldn’t get stolen or run over or anything, and took the box from my grandma into the building with me.
My purse kept banging against the box, making the contents shift inside. I tried to put everything in one hand in order to use my finger to look at the map of the place. The United States room was on the third floor in the right wing.
Great. Stairs.
I looked around for an elevator but didn’t see a sign or even a place to put one. Blowing the hair out of my face, I jimmied the door open to the stairs and made my very slow ascent to the third floor.
By the time I reached the third floor door I knew three things. One, I was horribly out of shape. Two, I should have eaten something this morning, and three, apparently I was the only one checking in right now. I didn’t see anyone else, which was weird. But then again, maybe they were already in their rooms.
I jerked the door open, again balancing everything in one hand, and walked down the hall to the right wing.
The door to the stairs slammed behind me, and slowly people began trickling out of their rooms. Girls who looked more like my Barbie than a real person openly stared at me. Some cursed in my direction, and others just smirked as if they knew a giant secret that I didn’t.
I kept my eyes focused ahead of me even though I knew I looked a mess. I was sweating, my hair was falling all over my dripping face, and my hands kept slipping on the box.
Finally, I saw the end of the hall and a sign that said The United States.
“Thank God,” I whispered under my breath.
I placed the box on the floor and dropped my purse next to it.
The girls had yet to say one word to me unless it was derogatory, and now they were watching me as if something terrible was about to happen.
Dear God please don’t let there be some scary clown hiding in my closet. I’d probably jump out the window and kill myself in the process.
I reached for the door and turned the handle. Nothing happened.
I pushed against it.
Again, nothing happened.
Finally, I used all the strength I had left in me and slammed my body against the door. It flew open before my body made full contact, sending me sailing onto the floor.
My head landed smack onto a pair of shiny expensive boots. Boy boots to be exact. I hated those boots, because for some reason I knew that they had to belong to a boy. And if any boy was waiting in my room, it had to be one of the Elect trying to make my life hell.
Speaking of, how in the heck did they make it up here so fast?
Girls giggled as I slowly pushed myself to my knees and looked up into Nixon’s perfect face.
Of course it was Nixon.
He offered his hand, but right before I took it, he put on a glove.
“Germs, you understand.” He winked.
Maybe it was because I was tired. Maybe it was because I was going insane with stress, but instead of taking his hand, I slapped it away and got to my feet on my own.
People gasped behind me.
Muscles twitched in Nixon’s jaw. “Leave us,” he barked.
The sound of doors slamming down the hall may as well have been nails in my social coffin. One, two, three, six… I closed my eyes and waited.
My door was the final one to close, but I hadn’t done the deed. No it was Nixon, and now he was behind me.
“You don’t like rules, do you, New Girl?” he whispered in my ear. He wasn’t touching me, but my body shivered involuntarily anyways. Treacherous hormones.
“There is one, final, rule.” Nixon moved from behind me and was now standing a foot away from me.
“What?” My voice sounded braver than I was feeling.
He closed the distance between us. I backed up, he pursued.
The cool metal door met my back making me shiver. My sweat had run cold and now I was completely terrified.
“You earn the right to use what we have. The elevators are locked. The Elect have copies of the key card. The pools, the weight rooms — everything you have access to, even your food — has a key card.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue key card and dangled it in front of me. “Say thank you.”
“For what?” I would not cry. I would not cry!
“Allowing you to eat, of course.”
“What?”
“I’m not finished talking,” he said smoothly. “This key card gains you access into the elevator only once a week. It also gains you access into the cafeteria, twice a day. Not three times. We don’t want you gaining weight. Use it wisely and if you impress me with your ability to follow directions. I may just up your freedom. Until then…” He shrugged and cleared his throat. “Move aside.”