Rina Kent

Manifesting the ability to punch people on the internet.

I kicked Aiden in the balls.

I kicked Aiden fucking King in the balls.

When I’m dead, bury me facedown so the world can kiss my ass.

No wonder they say the quiet ones are the kinkiest.

“Why are you so interested in joining our club?”

“Isn’t that where all the cool kids go?”

“Nice try, but no, it obviously isn’t your scene.”

“Because I’m a girl?”

“And a nerd and a scaredy-cat and an introvert. You name it.”

“I…can change.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why would you change? You’re fine the way you are.”

What. The. Fuck?

I’m going to kill this bastard. How dare he look at Bran—my fucking twin brother—like he’s his next bitch?

My. Fucking. Brother.

The Landon King’s identical twin.

“Don’t call you what? Baby?”

“Nikolai!”

By the entrance, I spot a student who’s avoiding the crowd by sneaking her way along the side pathway leading to the huge double doors. I notice her because I was also contemplating the same path.

While I’d love to fit in, crowds cause that familiar itch to rise under my skin.

The loner’s skirt is bigger. She’s on the thick side and has the roundest, cutest features I’ve seen on a girl my age. With her huge rounded eyes, plump lips and braided long brown hair, she almost looks like a child.

And she’s the first presence in this school that doesn’t give me the ‘untouchable’ vibe.

I catch up to her and match her fast-walking pace. “Morning.”

Her head snaps my way, but she soon stares at her feet and tightens her grip on the strap of her messenger bag.

“I’m sorry.” I offer my most welcoming smile. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Perhaps she’s one of the new kids here, too, and feels intimidated.

“You shouldn’t be talking to me,” she whispers under her breath. Even her voice is cute.

“Why not?”

She stares at me for the first time with eyes so green, they nearly sparkle like a tropical sea. “Wow. You have beautiful eyes.”

“T-thanks.” Her lips curve into a tentative smile as if she shouldn’t be doing the smiling thing. She kicks imaginary rocks as she speaks. “You’re too pretty, you shouldn’t be talking to the school’s outcast.”

“Outcast?” I echo, incredulous. “There’s no such thing as an outcast. If I want to talk to you, I will.”

She troubles her bottom lip and I swear, I’m itching to pinch her adorable cheeks.

“Are you new here, too?” I ask, instead of acting like a creep on the first meeting.

She shakes her head. “I studied in REJ.”

“REJ?”

“Royal Elite Junior.”

“Oh.”

Sure.” I interlink my arm with hers. “What’s your name?”

“Kimberly. You?”

“Elsa — and in my defence, I was born way before the Disney film came out.”

She chirps a little laughter. “Your parents must have psychic powers.”

Who are they?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

“They’re the elite of the elite.” Her voice trembles, genuinely, it trembles. “If you want to have a peaceful life in RES, you have to be on their good side.”