9 | Snobbery At Its Finest

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A SCOWL GREETED ME, immediately.

Archer Redwood stood before me, a picture of wealth and elegance— with his slightly windswept, yet expertly done hair, and designer clothing. I needed a moment to collect my thoughts, dragging them away from his lean body and angular face. No, I could not fall into that hole... again.

I'd been with guys in the past, sucked in by their sweet words and sharp smiles, but they hadn't ended particularly well, to say the least. My most recent boyfriend had done everything you read about: the romantic dates, the swoon worthy lines, and feigning interest in your problems. And once he'd gotten what he wanted, he'd skedaddled. That was about four months ago, and I tried, really tried, not to think too much of it or him.

Miles's cough chokeslammed me out of that train of thought, and back into reality. Ah, yes. Time to deal with the matter at hand.

His fingers were digging into my arm, but he seemed oblivious to this as he gazed at the handsome boy in upmost amazement and with an equal amount of terror. I waited for him to make the move and help me up a bit, but his arms were limp or as good as.

My apology had fizzled out when I'd seen who it was. I would likely have re fuelled it, had he not made no motion to help me up or apologise himself. Yes, it had been mainly my fault, but wasn't it common curtesy to check if someone was alright?

He was alone. I imagined it was rare to see the three not with one another as they were said to be joined at the hip or that's what Miles had implied, anyway.

I received a small jab in my side as Miles hauled me up, and managed to throw me a pointed look, simultaneously. Internally, I huffed and complained, continually. However, on the outside, I slapped on an apologetic smile— I hoped my internal struggle to keep my thoughts inside wasn't being projected through my eyes, like my mother used to chastise me on being prone to. At the thought of her, my smile wavered. I hadn't even called her.

"I—"

His shoulder bumped into mine. It wasn't too hard, but the shock of it made my whole body turn sideways. I gaped at his retreating back.

"Damn, he's hot," Miles muttered, biting his lip as if that didn't just happen.

"That's pissed me right off, that has," I said as we continued on, in the opposite direction to the pretentious snob. My hunger was catalysing my anger, until I felt as if I was about to blow. Already, I was absolutely sick of the way I was being treated. First, Miles and I had been labelled 'peasants' and although Miles had pointed out why that wasn't so bad, it was still a degrading label I was not a fan of. And then, this constant snobbery from practically everyone that looked at us. The glares or whispered remarks were irritating, but the blatant prejudice and... and cruelty was infuriating.

"Let's just eat, and then we can lock ourselves in my room and binge eat the Pringles I brought with me," he said, guiding me towards a seat.

"Cheese and onion or..?"

"Obviously," he said with a minute tilt of his head. "I'm not a fucking barbarian."

There were four large tables, laid out side by side, which took up the majority of the hall. Each had the standard red cushions on the polished, wooden chairs. It was clear from what we gathered in the last day and a bit and just by looking, that there was a system to the seating arrangements. The table closest to the right wall was sparsely filled, but each person who did get the honour to sit there was one of the most admired in the school, whether that be Charles Richardson III with his aristocratic status or  Tatiana Nikolaev with her Russian princess mother.

Miles and I positioned ourselves far away from them, as far away as we could get.

As we sat, awaiting our pre ordered meals, I noticed the five empty seats on the farthest away table, right by the head of it.

When I mentioned it to Miles, all he said in response was: "The Elites." Ah, I thought, should have known. Maybe the three of them need the extra seats for space or something.

I laughed as a shepherd's pie was placed in front of him, so out of place with the various fish and other minuscule portions of food around us.

I'd pretty much forgotten about the whole Archer incident and the inferno raging inside of me as we ate and talked. That is, until Miles spilled some of his dinner down himself, and began furiously wiping it with his napkin.

"Dab," I emphasised. "Don't rub," I told him, cringing as it just smeared his white shirt. So much for not being a barbarian.

I handed him my glass of water and let him dip the material in it so that it could be used to clean his shirt a little. I knew the staining would be a nightmare to get out, but it was better than nothing.

I actual found it quite funny, but then the thing that had my face heating up and my heart beating faster happened; a boy, fair haired and brown eyed, had noticed what was happening from the table beside ours.

"Leaking nipples again, Reynard?" He said, painfully posh, pointing towards the dampness taking over the left side of his chest, almost entirely.

Miles halted his attempts and stared at his lap in embarrassment as people began to turn and take notice. Their whispered conversations were not at all subtle, but I don't think being discrete was their intention. Many muffled their laughs into their hands, tittering away. As was expected, they struggled to hide their distaste.

The blonde boy was smiling in triumph at the reaction from Miles and those around us. He was attractive, that much was evident, but that quality was completely forgotten as I pushed my sleeves up and went to stand.

Before I could do anything, someone beat me to it.

"That's quite enough, Harry," a brown haired girl said, literally standing in my way to pummel him. I suppose it wasn't such a bad thing, considering if I indulged in giving him a broken nose like I so wanted to, I would inevitably be kicked out in a hot minute. "Or must we mention the little summer fiasco?"

"N-no," he said, jittery and gulping heavily at the girl I couldn't quite recognise. She had her back to us, and I didn't recognise her voice or stature. "We were just having a joke. Weren't we, Reynard?" He seemed so nervous I really wanted to take a picture just to capture the moment. I couldn't, however, so settled with storing it securely in my mind.

"Y-yeah." I looked, confusedly, at Miles because of this response. He actually seemed nervous, too. What was going on?

She didn't say anything more to him, but turned to us as if she could no longer see the pompous arse. Those around us had stared at the girl, forgetting their previous amusement, preferring to watch on in awe and, if I read them correctly, fear.

"Follow me," she said. It didn't seem wise to disobey her, so without much deliberation, we were both leaving our plates where they were and were following her out of the door. "Are you alright?" she asked, when the three of us were stood a fair distance away from the grand double doors we'd just escaped from.

Miles answered the same way he had in the dining hall. I peered at him sideways again, wondering what on earth was going on with him to make him act so... strangely.

"Thank you," I said to her when Miles seemed unable to utter any other words. "For doing all that. You didn't have to."

She turned to me, and I was struck by just how pretty she was. Her large, brown eyes looked so genuinely sympathetic it almost made me step back. No one in this place, wearing such nice clothes and jewellery, had shown anything other than distaste towards either of us. For her to not only have stood up for Miles, but also to have checked up on him, was beyond anything I would have imagined people like us would have received here.

We were about eye level, but she intimidated me to no end. Something about her aura, her presence made me feel like I should be kneeling or some shit.

"Harry's always been a knob," she said with a light smile.

I jolted myself out of my haze and realised I needed to introduce myself and Miles, too, considering he was still gazing at her like the others had.

"I'm Jolie Dubois and this is Miles Reynard." I told her, pointing at him. With a small nudge in the side, he had closed his mouth but was still avoiding eye contact.

She raised her eyebrows momentarily and shock flittered through her eyes, but it was masked as quickly as it had come. Returning her smile to her blush lips, she held out her hand.

"I'm Autumn. Autumn Redwood."

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