“Okay.” I kissed his cheek.

Grandpa grinned and got into the car. I waved as he drove off, then turned back toward the girl with the clipboard.

Okay.” I took a soothing breath and faced my future. “So where to?”

“Name?” she asked, sounding bored.

“Trace Rooks.”

The girl smirked and shook her head as if my name was the most amusing thing she’d heard all day. Was everyone rude here?

“It’s your lucky day,” she announced, motioning toward the building. “You are in the United States.”

I looked around just to make sure I wasn’t getting punked. “Um, yeah, I know. I’m American.”

“Gee.” She put the pen in her mouth and sighed heavily. “I didn’t know that. You seemed foreign to me. Where did you say you were from? Wyoming? Do they even have electricity there?”

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but she interrupted me… again.

“I know where we are, New Girl. Rooms are themed based on countries. Don’t ask me why, it’s just how it’s done. Your room is the United States Room. Go make yourself at home, oh and welcome to Elite.” She eyed me from head to toe twice before finally spinning around and returning to the building.

How was I supposed to get all my stuff in the building? Wasn’t there some sort of welcome packet or directions or something?

I vaguely remembered some information that had come in the mail the week before. It had my student ID card amongst other things. I rummaged through my purse and found the packet and quickly began scanning it for the schedule.

“Are you lost?” a deep voice asked from behind me. I turned around and quickly came face to face with the same guy I’d seen before. Only this time he had three friends with him, not one. Lucky me.

“Nope. Apparently I live in the United States.” I gave him my best smile and tried to lift my heavy suitcase with my free hand. It didn’t budge and I almost fell over. Awesome.

“I’m Nixon.” He moved to stand in front of me. His icy stare did weird things to my body. I’m pretty sure what I was experiencing was called a panic attack. Every part of my body felt hot and then cold as if I was going to explode any minute.

“Tracey, but everyone calls me Trace.” I held out my hand.

He stared at it like I was diseased.

I quickly pulled it back and wiped it on my jeans.

“Rules.”

“What?” I took a step back.

The guy from before named Chase left the waiting group and approached us. “He’s right. As cute as you are, Farm Girl, someone needs to tell you the rules.”

“Can it be fast?” I asked with an overwhelming sense of irritation. I was tired, jet-lagged, and about five seconds away from crying again. I’d never done public school, let alone a private Elite school where the guys were tattooed, pierced, and better looking than Abercrombie models.

“You hear that, Chase?” Nixon laughed. “She likes it fast.”

“Pity.” Chase winked. “I’d love to give it to her slow.”

I gulped. The two guys behind them laughed hysterically and high-fived one another.

“The rules.” Chase began circling me slowly, making me feel like one of those carcasses the vultures fed on. Fantastic.

“No speaking to the Elect, unless you’ve been asked to speak to them.”

“Who are the—”

“—Nope. You’ve already broken a rule. I’m speaking, New Girl.” Chase smirked. “Geez, Nixon, this one’s going to be hard to break in.”

“They always are,” Nixon replied, lifting my chin with his hand. “But I think I’ll enjoy this one.”

Okay. It was clear someone had just dropped me into a horror movie where I was going to be offed at any minute.

“If an Elect talks to you, never make eye contact. Because, technically you don’t exist. You’re just a pathetic excuse for a human being, and at this school, you’re a real tragedy. You see, while one of the Elect is out running for president and basically ruling the free world, you’ll be lucky to be working for one of our companies. You follow the rules, and maybe we’ll throw you a bone.”

Furious, I glared at him, ignoring their second rule. “Is that all?”

“No,” Nixon answered for Chase. This time his touch was smooth as he caressed my arm. I tried to jerk away. His face lit up with a smile, and honestly, it was like staring at a fallen angel. Nixon was gorgeous. He was an ass, but he was a gorgeous ass. “You feel this?” His hand continued moving up my arm until he reached my shoulder, and then his hand moved to my neck and his thumb grazed my trembling lips. “Memorize it now, because as of this moment, you can’t touch us. We are untouchable. If you as much as sneeze in our direction, if you as much breathe the same air in my atmosphere, I will make your life hell. This touch, what you feel against your skin, will be the only time you feel another human being as powerful as me near you. So like I said, feel it, remember it, and maybe one day, your brain will do you the supreme favor of forgetting what it felt like to have someone like me touching you. Then, and only then, will you be able to be happy with some mediocre boyfriend and pathetic life.”

A few tears slipped down my cheek before I could stop them. I knew I needed to appear strong in front of Nixon and Chase. I just… I didn’t have it in me, not when he would say such cruel things. I choked back a sob and stared them down, willing the rest of the tears to stay in. I didn’t care who these guys were. They had no right to treat me like that, though it still stung. I so desperately wanted to fit in.

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.”