CHAPTER 449: KAYLA RICHARDS

And everyone was watching it happen. Connor Hayes’s phone was already Recording from his strategic position near the center tables. I could almost hear his livestream chat losing its collective mind.

Across the room, Jack Morrison sat with what remained of his once-mighty friend group, looking like someone had reached inside his chest and ripped out his soul. He watched Sofia holding my arm, saw the easy laughter she shared with Madison, and saw her choosing me, publicly, for the second time that day.

Tommy waved from a table utterly surrounded by a new breed of friends—social climbers, wannabe entrepreneurs, and opportunists, all angling for proximity to his newfound wealth. Lea Martinez sat with her quiet new friend, their expressions unreadable from this distance, but I could feel the weight of their focus.

And she was there.

Kayla!

Oh, man. That bitch was still as beautiful as I remembered.

No—correction. She was more beautiful. Time had been exceptionally kind. Her dark hair now fell in soft, luxurious waves down her back, and she sat with a group of girls I vaguely recognized from our junior year. Her back was to the door, her hands gesturing as she told some story that had her friends leaning in, completely captivated.

Then she shifted in her seat, turning slightly to point at something across the room.

And I saw it.

Lord have mercy.

I saw her ass. It had grown since last I’d seen it. Fuller. Peakier. Rounder. It was absolutely, divinely perfect in those jeans, which had to be custom-tailored because no off-the-rack denim had any right to hug curves like that. It was the kind of ass that made a man forget his own name, his own address, his own mother’s maiden name. It was the kind of ass that made spanking not just an option, but a moral imperative, a civic duty.

My mind, ever helpful, supplied a vivid image: Kayla bent over a desk, my hand rising and falling on that perfect curve, the sharp smack echoing in the room, her gasp a mix of pain and pleasure, that glorious bubble butt bouncing with each impact, the skin turning a delightful, rosy pink under my palm—

Yeah. Spanks would land very, very well on that ass.

Exceptionally well indeed.

Otherwise, the rest of the cafeteria was having a collective meltdown over the two girls publicly claiming me.

"They’re staring," Sofia said, her voice quiet but her smile determined, a soldier facing her first battle.

"Let them," Madison replied, her voice carrying just enough that nearby tables could hear. "They’ll get used to it."

Emma giggled behind us. "This is the best lunch period ever and we haven’t even gotten food yet."

Sarah was quieter, but I could feel her satisfaction radiating from her like warmth. Her brother—the kid who’d been invisible, who’d been bullied, who’d been used and dismissed—was walking through the center of Lincoln High’s social universe with two of the most beautiful girls in school hanging on his arms, while the entire student body was forced to rewrite their understanding of who, and what, Peter Carter was.

Vindication, I decided, felt damn good.

We moved deeper into the cafeteria, our trajectory aimed at an empty table near the windows. Prime real estate. It was usually claimed by seniors or the popular crowd.

Nobody challenged us for it.

Connor tracked our movement like radar. Whispers followed in our wake. Connor’s livestream was probably smashing viewer records.

And across the sea of tables, Kayla Richards finally, slowly, turned around.

Saw me. Saw Madison and Sofia. Saw the entire, magnificent picture.

Her expression was a masterclass in micro-emotions: surprise, confusion, sharp calculation, and then something that might have been respect. Or maybe just the dawning recognition that the kid she’d used two years ago wasn’t that kid anymore.

Our eyes met across the chasm of the cafeteria.

She smiled. Small. Knowing. A little uncertain.

I smiled back. Equally small. Equally knowing.

A silent conversation passed between us, understood in an instant. Things are different now, aren’t they?

She nodded, almost imperceptibly, then turned back to her friends, a thoughtful look on her face.

Yeah. Things were very different now.

I wasn’t the easy mark anymore. I wasn’t the helpful genius who’d hand over millions in intellectual property for a little attention and a scrap of validation.

I was Peter fucking Carter.

And if Kayla Richards wanted another piece of my brilliance, she’d have to earn it.

Preferably while bent over something, counting

spanks.

We reached our table. Madison and Sofia finally released my arms so we could sit, but they stayed close, claiming their territory in the seating arrangement—Madison on my right, Sofia on my left. Sarah and Emma sat across from us, Emma still grinning like it was Christmas morning and she’d just gotten a pony.

"So," Emma said, pulling out her phone to document this historic moment for her Instagram story. "How does it feel to be the main character?"

I looked around the cafeteria. At the open stares. At the phones recording our every move. At Jack Morrison’s broken, defeated expression. At Connor’s gleeful livestream. At Lea Martinez, watching with a jealousy so intense it was a physical thing. At Kayla Richards, processing the new, improved Peter Carter.

I looked at Madison and Sofia beside me, two gorgeous, brilliant girls who had chosen this chaos with eyes wide open.

"Exhausting," I said, and it was the truest word I could find.

"But fun?" Emma pressed, her eyes sparkling.

I thought about it. About the morning’s hypercar arrival. About Mrs. Henderson’s complete psychological collapse. About the Lust Presence detonating in my physics class. About Lea’s jealous facade cracking for all to see. About walking through this cafeteria with two beautiful girls on my arms and knowing, with absolute certainty, that everyone was rewriting the very definition of who I was.

No matter how mature my sixteen year mind was, this was fun and the fact that it was happening at a school where I had once considered hell, no matter how many penthouses or mansions I can buy, this was one of my most accomplished feelings.

"Yeah," I admitted. "Kind of fun."

Madison laughed, a bright, happy sound, and leaned her head against my shoulder.

Sofia’s hand found mine under the table, her fingers lacing with mine.

Sarah rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t stop a smile from tugging at her lips.

Emma kept recording, our official court historian.

And Lincoln High’s lunch period became the stuff of legend.

Welcome to the new normal.

*****

A/N: Guys, this school arc might go on as it us settling in into normalcy and I wont be doing any more long school scenes that involve some of the elements in this one.