Taking my hand in his, he tugs me behind him, leading me toward the cafeteria. “I’ve never had a girlfriend before, but I understand it’s customary to speak to one another while you’re not together. Judging by the lack of texts and calls on your cell I can see you don’t adhere to this with your other loved ones, but if we’re not together, Starling, I expect you to text me and tell me where you are, who you’re with and what you’re doing.”

“You went through my phone?” I gasp.

“I did,” he says, not a hint of apology in his tone.

“And you think that’s okay?” I admonish.

“You’re my girlfriend, there won’t be any secrets between us.”

“Firstly, I’m not your girlfriend and secondly, even if I was, going through my cell phone is completely not okay,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Hmm.” That’s it, no apology, no admission that he understands being a controlling asshole is not okay, just hmm. God, he’s such an asshole.

We reach the cafeteria doors and I yank at my hand, trying to free myself from his hold. “I don’t want to go in there with you.”

“Little bird.” It’s a warning, not an endearment, but I don’t heed him.

“Everyone will see me with you.”

“Good, now march your cute butt in there, or I’ll put you over my shoulder and carry you in.”

“I don’t want this,” I tell him, my voice taking on a pleading note that I despise myself for.

“This isn’t about what you want, this is about making sure that everyone in this school knows you’re mine,” he growls, dropping my hand and wrapping his arm around my waist, holding my hip in a just shy of punishing grip. It’s a warning that he can and will hurt me if I don’t do as he says, and I’m helpless but to comply.

The room doesn’t fall silent like I expect it to, but I doubt there’s a single person who isn’t watching Sebastian touch me. They don’t see the fact that I’ll no doubt have a bruise from the strength of his grip, all they know is that one of their kings is with a girl. A girl he’s leading to their table, a girl that he’s placing in his lap and whispering in her ear.

Another tear tries to break free from my eyes, but I don’t let it. Being here, being seen like this by all these people who know I’m not like them, who know I’m below them, makes me want to curl up in a ball and disappear. I’m not Elite, I’m not popular, or even well liked, and I know what they’ll be saying the moment The Elite are out of earshot. They’ll be calling me a gold digger, a slut who’s getting on her knees to keep one of the kings.

They’d never imagine I don’t want to be here, that there’s blood in my mouth from how hard I’m biting my tongue to stop myself from crying. No, all they see is the poor girl from the wrong side of town, sitting in the rich guy’s lap.