When lunch is over, I reluctantly let her go to class. Clay put an app on my cell so I can access the security cameras and watch her whenever I want, but I resist. She’s already my obsession, if I allow myself to watch her more than I already do I’ll fail every single one of my classes.

The afternoon drags, the weight of my cell in my pocket taunting me. My last period is in the classroom opposite hers and the moment the bell sounds, I leave, settling my back against the wall to wait for her.

The other kids pour out of the room, but she’s slower to leave. She’s not looking where she’s going, her backpack in her hands, her gaze fixed on it as she slides something inside, then concentrates on fastening it up. All eyes are on her, but she’s completely unaware. I don’t know if that’s because she doesn’t know that they can’t keep their eyes off her or if she just doesn’t care.

No one has dared to ask why her, but I can see the unspoken question on all of their lips. In terms of GAA hierarchy, she’s at the bottom. Her family’s not rich or powerful, she’s not slutty or infamous. To the other students she’s a nobody, or at least she was until I made her mine. Now she’s a curiosity, someone to study, to emulate, because she’s done what no one else has in the three years we’ve held our positions as The Elite, she’s caught our attention.

Don’t get me wrong, we’ve hardly been celibate since we took over from the seniors, in fact we’ve fucked more than our fair share of girls. There’s even some kind of club for girls who have fucked all four of us, but none of us have ever had more than a passing fancy.

The Lockwoods, Jansens, Morrises and Rossbergs all have legacies to protect, we all know what’s expected of us and that means we don’t have the luxury of dating indiscriminately. The women we ultimately marry will either have to bring an alliance, or have a pedigree that makes them an asset.

Starling has neither of those things, but my parents are romantics and when I realized my obsession with her wasn’t going away, I told them about her. If I was in my senior year at college they probably would have told me she wasn’t an option, but claiming her now when she’s only sixteen gives me and them time to shape her and our future together into something they deem worthy.

“Little bird, if you don’t pay better attention to what’s going on around you, you’ll end up falling over someone or something and getting hurt,” I say, curling my palm possessively around her neck, stroking my thumb over the purpling bruised bite mark I put on her.

“Oh god,” she gasps, startled. “Jesus, you again. You need a bell or something, you scared me.”

“Sorry, baby,” I coo, laughing as I turn her into my arms, lean down and kiss her.