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Parker's dislike of Skye went from 0 to 60 in a matter of seconds.

"What kind of school sends their kids here?"
"Why? Because I can."
"A school full of girls is only bearable for so long..."
"I don't have to work."
"I really can't stand animals, other then my horse and my hunting dogs."

What he had only suspected before was now confirmed. This girl was a product of the bullshit bourgeoisie, suckling at the teat of society while scorning the less fortunate. She came here out of the good of her own heart? Bullshit. Parker scowled darkly, unable to mask his contempt in that moment. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many passive aggressive, snarky digs that he wanted to make until Skye was crying and questioning every belief and moral that she had. He wanted to destroy her -- mentally. His grip on the tongs tightened, and as soon as he became conscious of it, Parker loosened it just in time to put another piece of cornbread on someone's plate.

He took three deep breaths before he tried to talk to her, swallowing down the name-calling that burbled in his throat. "Hillworth," he said, refusing to look at her. "I go to Hillworth. I have to work because I was not born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I can't afford to go to a school where administration will wipe your a** for you if you ask it." The crack was thinly veiled, and at the end, he shot her a single glance and then returned to the cornbread, dropping off another piece.

Nothing would make him happier than to continue the rest of his sentence at the soup kitchen next to this spoiled princess in complete silence.

Needless to say, the woman in charge sided entirely with Skye, screaming at Parker in front of the entire place. He was sentenced to two additional weeks of work, but would only be allowed to serve as the bathroom attendant responsible for watching guests in the restrooms. Apparently, it was a safety issue. It didn't make it any less foul. Everything was made much more severe by the fact that Skye had quite clearly stabbed at him worse than he had at her. A little light conversation that didn't go her way, and she was off to get Parker back ten times as badly. It was petty. It was pathetic. And it gave her the win, forcing Parker into even more suffering than would have happened if he had just kept his mouth shut.

Parker did not argue with the woman in charge. What was the point?

Skye had only served to reinforce all the negative stereotypes he already had about Crystals -- and then some. They were rich, spoiled, rotten, evil bitches and whores. There were no exceptions -- not in Parker's eyes. This Skye was at the top of his list of evil women, and he had no intention of letting her have the last laugh. Skye Fortescue. He would remember the name. If she was as rich as she seemed to claim to be, perhaps there were some skeletons lurking in her parents' lavish closets. Parker could only hope.

After two more hours spent in the bathroom, Parker let the soup kitchen, walking awkwardly through the streets. He had a head ache from all the screaming, but all he could see was Skye's contorted face. He spent the rest of the night think of ways to destroy her, all the ways that she was a failure and he was a success. His hatred for the wealthy only grew more hatred, burning in his veins like fire.

Skye was... a giant b***h. No two ways about it. Not in Parker's eyes.