Chapter 5 The Thing With Grayson Blackwood
Ginger’s POV:
“You should probably ask your mother,” Roman answers just as my mom waltzes into the kitchen. He gives her a quick kiss before leaving.
“Hey honey,” she throws over her back, retrieving a fresh set of wine glasses from the cabinet. “Here take this.”
I follow after her, abandoning my empty cup by the sink.
“What's going on?”
“We're expecting an important guest today,” is all she says in response.
I want to push further, but a single glance at her tired eyes kills that thought. She's wearing her bun a bit loose today, a few strands of her hair peeking out. Her clothing is light as opposed to her usual form-fitting outfit.
She must have been working on this a while.
Mom collects the tray and fetches my transcript, handing it over.
“Thanks dear,” she barely glances at me. “Have a great day at school.”
“Do you have your documents on you?” the lady at the desk asks.
“Yes.” I fish it from my bag and drop it into her waiting hand.
“Mikaelson,” she reads the name slowly, fingers flying over the keyboard. “You’re Roman Blackwood's ward, correct?”
“Uh huh.”
“You're cleared.” She returns my files, “Your first class is Geography.” Then slips me a note. “Show this to your teacher the second you enter.”
Perks of having a future stepfather that's a major shareholder on the school board.
Walking through the halls of Bayview High is tougher than expected, which is funny considering the fact that literally almost everyone stays out of my way.
Wish I could say it's great to be back, but really, it's not.
The usual groups of wolves are huddled in the corner, their eyes following my every move. I catch the mockery in their gaze, the word ‘traitor’ pasted on their lips.
The humans mostly ignore me, oblivious as always. To them, I'm the smart, geeky loner with the headset, short-pleated skirt, and fiery red hair. I am invisible, and for good reason too. How else would I be able to slip into the woods undetected after school?
Mrs. Morrison beams on seeing me.
“Mikaelson!” she smiles, waving me in. “So good to have you back.”
I give her the special pardon note and she nods like she understands before reintroducing me to the class. I only get some half-assed “welcomes” in response.
I plop down in my seat. Grayson is absent. No surprise there.
The door swings open mid-lecture and I look up, half expecting it to be Grayson, but a dark-haired girl struts in instead. You know…eyes closed, chin raised like those spoiled rich princesses you read about in romance novels.
I can already tell I won't like her much. The rest of the male population? Not quite.
They start rapping on the tables the moment she emerges. Hooting and catcalling.
“I guess your classmates are very excited to have you, Miss Xenoia,” Mrs Morrison chuckles, pulling her to the front. “Seems we have a new student joining us today, everyone. This is Miss Katelyn Xenoia.”
Whistles and cheers follow. “Be nice.”
Katelyn stops in the row beside me. “Is this seat taken?”
“Um…Ye—”
“Thanks.” She slides into Grayson's chair, slipping her bag over the table.
O…Kay.
The next few hours pass by in a blur of classes and information-sharing which I am only too happy to pen down.
It turns out Katelyn and I have multiple long-suffering courses together. And by fifth bell, it's like I can't seem to get away fast enough.
“Hey, Ginger right?” she calls. “Wait up!”
But I just walk faster, gripping my bag strap tighter.
Don't get me wrong—I don't hate Katelyn.
There's just something about her that rubs me the wrong way. The girl is too… Nice. Too chipper. Too friendly it's almost unreal.
I finally spot Grayson at the cafeteria, seated amongst his hockey team; the loudest in the room. He doesn't notice me of course, too engaged in conversation.
There's a girl in his laps. Brunette. The same one from last night. She has her eyes trained on him—likewise about twenty more females in this crowded messhall.
He's oblivious to all this as usual. Because that's the thing with Grayson Blackwood, he just naturally shines, radiating that aura of importance and sex appeal. Effortlessly fitting into the perfect image of the hockey bad boy and Alpha Prince; while I—on the other hand—remain the traitor's daughter.
The child of the man that nearly killed his father three years ago.
My heart clenches in my chest. I can't stay here and watch this.
I turn fast. Fast enough that I trip over something, or rather someone. My knees collide with the ground, knocking my tray packed with books to the floor.
I turn to shoot Katelyn a glare, and for a split second I think I see her smirk, but it must have been a trick of the lights, because the next second she's extending a manicured hand, fussing over me.
“Oh my gosh, Ginger are you alright?”
“Do I ‘look’ alright?” I snap, taking her hand. She starts pulling me up but pauses on seeing Grayson coming.
“Wait, what are you—” That's as far as I get before we're both falling again. This time with me landing hard on my butt and her elbow digging into my ribs.
Grayson arrives then.
“Ginny.” He doesn't hesitate.
But then there's a caramelized second hand.
Equally tall, equally thick skinned. But he's bigger, buffier, and lined with muscles.
Jayden Rivera.
Grayson's rival, and mine too.
As cliché as this sounds, the hall actually falls silent when he speaks.
“Need some help?”
