All I’ve Never Wanted(3)

"Not if you're in high school. Now, shhh."



I shut up, not because she said so, but because the crowd had fallen silent, and I didn't want to speak and bring attention to myself.



Venice and I were standing on the very top of the stairs, and I heard them before I saw them—the sound of screeching tires as four very expensive, very flashy cars turned sharply at the same time into their respective parking spaces.



I swear, if this was a movie, there'd be some dramatic soundtrack playing right now. Everyone except me waited with bated breath for the Scions to emerge, and when they finally did, the ensuing swoons and screams were a million times louder than before. As if the scene couldn't get anymore sickening, the clouds decided to part at that moment, and a golden beam of sunlight highlighted the quartet like they're really the gods everyone thinks they are.



Parker Remington was the first to get out. Slamming the door of his red Lamborghini shut, I felt like the renowned playboy should be moving in slow motion as he raked a hand through his wavy, golden brown hair. The son of the most powerful figure in the international finance and banking world leaned against the side of his car, his eyes shielded by a pair of aviators, and flashed a disarming smile into the crowd, causing more than a few girls to nearly faint.



Gag me.



The next to come out was Carlo Tevasco. The towering, dark Colombian, though equally gorgeous, was nowhere near as overtly smooth and charming at his friend. In fact, he looked a little annoyed at all the ballyhoo that greeted him. I shouldn't be surprised; a black belt in five different types of martial arts and the son of a multibillionaire real estate developer with rumored ties to the mafia, Carlo seemed to be the quietest and least attention-seeking Scion. Even his car, a simple but sturdy black Range Rover, reflected his personality.



Following Carlo was Zack Perry. The grinning Greek-god-look-a-like hopped enthusiastically from his bright yellow Porsche, his golden hair gleaming under the sun like a halo. In my opinion, the eternally good-natured Zack seemed to be the only one who's even remotely human in the group. A musician and singer, he constantly has a smile to his face, though I guess if I stood to inherit billions thanks to my family's dominance in the steel and railroad industry, I'd be happy too.



Suddenly, a low murmur rippled through the crowd, and when I looked to see what had everyone in such a tizzy, I was shocked to see a girl had emerged from the passenger seat of Zack's car. She was stunningly beautiful and supermodel tall, with a cascading mane of perfect blonde waves and a delicate, heart-shaped face that boasted bright blue-green eyes, high cheekbones, and rosy pink lips. Her slender, perfect body was encased in a beautiful pale green silk sundress that probably cost more than an average person's monthly rent.



Actually, now that I looked more closely, she bore a striking resemblance to Zack.



"No way. No. Freaking. Way." Venice's jaw was almost grazing the ground.



"Who is that?" I asked curiously. The Scions had never, ever made an entrance with a girl before.



"If I'm correct, that's no other than Adriana Perry, Zack's twin sister."



I blinked. "He has a twin sister?"



"Yeah." Venice didn't tear her eyes from the spectacle. "They're really close but she's been at some Swiss boarding school since eighth grade."



"How do you know all of this stuff?"



Venice just looked at me. "Um, I live for gossip, remember?"



Oh yeah. I’d forgotten about that.



Everyone had quieted down again, I realized, because the main attraction was finally showing his face.



Roman Fiori. The sole heir to the world's largest fortune, which encompassed shipping, oil, electronics, telecommunications, textiles, and sports franchises; an athletic prodigy hailed as the second coming of Michael Jordan, Pele, and Joe Montana rolled into one; the single hottest specimen to ever walk the face of this earth.



According to all the girls who are currently peeing themselves in excitement, anyway. I mean, I guess I can kind of see it. The entire package—the thick, wavy black hair, the naturally golden bronze skin, the sleek muscular body, the cut-glass cheekbones, and those one-of-a-kind, gold-flecked dark violet eyes—was made to melt girls' hearts.



Ok, so I can totally see it, but luckily, it takes more than just supernaturally good looks to win me over. As far as I'm concerned, Roman Fiori is the biggest jerk alive and as arrogant as they come.



The small group made their way leisurely towards the school. Roman was at front, of course, flanked by Carlo and Parker; Zack and Adriana brought up the rear.



The crowd on the stairs parted like the Red Sea for Moses.