And, she and her best friend were in love. She didn’t need to say it. I could see it all over Susie’s face. Damn. That really sucked. Zack had a devil-may-care exterior, but I could tell he had had an emotional, sweet core, just like his twin. Instinctively, I knew that Zack was the kind of person you could hurt if you weren’t careful.
“It started after Zack and I broke up, but the feelings have always been there. Right now, we’re kind of at the any-excuse-to-be-around-each-other stage of pathetic.” She shook her head. “You know, I haven’t told anyone yet, except . . .” She paused to give a mirthless laugh, “Except my dad, I tell him everything. I can’t tell my sister. She’d blab the first time she visited, and everyone else is just way too close. They would be so mad at us.”
“Hey, Susie. I’m one hundred percent good with you two using me as an excuse to hang out together.”
She gave me a cautious look. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’m good with it. Then, if I completely fail these trials, at least it will have given you and Richard this time together.” The words hurt coming out, but they were true. I began to turn around when I realized that this might be my only chance to talk to Susie alone. “Susie, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Gina Roberts made a really big deal out of me being born on a Saturday, and then Mr. Roberts demanded to see my birth certificate before considering me. It’s bugged me since then. Why does any of that matter?”
Susie’s mouth made an oh, and she started twisting a thin silver bracelet around her wrist. She seemed suddenly nervous, but it could be the heat as the shadows in the park were shrinking, and the temperature was increasing by the moment.
“How much did the Robertses tell you about Blackburn Academy?” She asked.
“Only that it’s a community, and if I make it in, I’ll need to take the secrets I learn there to the grave.”
“The basic spiel, then.” Susie glanced around. A coffee shop had patrons filtering in and out, but otherwise, the area was completely deserted. “You heading toward the Roberts Mansion? I’ll walk with you if you want. The residential halls are somewhat in that direction, and I jogged here, too.” If she jogged here, she showed no sign of it. Well, at least compared to me, she didn’t.
We walked for a few minutes before Susie looked over. She seemed to choose her words with care, “The reason that the Robertses want to give you a scholarship, does it have to do with Gina Roberts? That’s what a lot of us guessed.”
“Yeah. She said that she saw it in a vision or something. So, prophecies are real?” I asked. Even though I suspected, shock hit me. “Lucas told me that Gina Roberts was something called an Elite, and there were more of them at Blackburn. Are Elites psychic?”
Susie gritted her teeth. “I can’t tell you that.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“I can’t tell you that, either,” Susie said with another wince. “What I can tell you, is that I was born on a Saturday, Richard was too, as were Lucas and Zack. I can also tell you that Blackburn Academy isn’t just the students that go there. It’s also the parents of those students and all of the alumni. They’re called the Hawthorn Group, and we lovingly refer to them as the HG. Once you’re part of the HG, you can’t ever be kicked out. That’s why they’re so careful with who they let into the Academy.”
“Okay one more, and then I’ll stop torturing you.” I took a steadying breath.
Susie tilted up her head and whimpered. “I am so sorry; I wish I could tell you more. All I can say is that if you get in, you are in for a . . .” she considered her words for a few seconds, “You’re in for a whole different world.”
Chapter Seventeen
My heart wasn’t in studying calculus, but I sat on my bed and read through the chapters before doing the practice problems. The problems weren’t outside my ability, but my high school class hadn’t covered scattered bits and pieces of information that I was expected to know. I took a small break to bring my nana lunch and immediately dove back in. All the while, hopelessness took root in my heart.
Who was I even kidding? Those five words ran circles around my brain.
When someone rang the bell at my door, I closed my textbook, ran my fingers through my hair, and headed down the stairs. Honestly, if Justin’s brand of sabotage was anything like it was yesterday, then it would be a very welcome distraction from math purgatory. I opened the door and was about to say something along the lines of come into my lair when I froze.
Char stood on my doorstep. Her expression looked absolutely miserable. She’d pulled her strawberry-blond hair back from her face, and she was wearing absolutely no makeup. In shorts and a ratty, old sweater that I remembered from back in her King Street days, Char did not look whatsoever like the polished girl I’d seen a couple of days ago.
“Char, what’s the matter? Did something happen?”
Char nodded, her lip trembling. “You hate me for some reason. I’m sure I fudged up, but I don’t know what I did.”
Damn it. Her words hit me with mingled guilt and anger, and I stepped out of the way and gestured past. “Char, I don’t hate you. You want to come up?”
She followed in after me, and we headed up to the kitchen.
“You want some tea?” I asked as I filled a kettle at the sink.
“I’m not going to take your food,” she whispered as she sniffed back tears. “I know you like to keep track of it.”
I held up the giant box of assorted teas. “Nana joined the Food Club, so now everything we buy is going to be in mass bulk.”
“Sure. Herbal,” she said.
Char stopped by Nana’s wall of devotionals. “Does your nana go to Brightside Presbyterian? Maybe we could sit together? Any excuse to not sit with my mom and her friends.”
“No, nondenominational. She’s going to switch to Saturday mornings while I visit Mom.” I set the kettle on the stove and turned on the gas burner. A box of biscotti waited in the cupboard, something Nana must have picked up as a treat, and so I set out two on a plate and took the seat next to Char.
A tear leaked onto her cheek, and she scrubbed it away. Char’s eyes were already growing red and puffy. She could never hide her tears. They stained her face like dye dripping down her cheeks.
“I thought your phone was off, so I called the main house knowing that it would probably be your nana answering.” Char scrubbed another tear off before grabbing the biscotti. “She told me that you were spending every spare moment studying for the entrance trials.” She sniffed. “You’re doing the entrance trials to get into Blackburn, and I had to find out from your nana. Then, I realized that your phone probably wasn’t off or broken for three straight days. You blocked my number.”
Picking up my biscotti, I took a big bite and chewed through the hard cookie as an excuse to not answer right away.
“I know that it must have been something I did, January. It’s always something I did. But you just pull away and cut me off. I was so excited to have you live here, and —”
“That first day, I called you from the parking lot because I could see you down at the party. You saw that I was calling and just ignored my call. That hurt, but…” I sighed, “I got it, too. Your life has changed. It must have felt weird to have me here.”
Tears ran down her face, streaking her freckly cheeks with lines of red. “So, you blocked me?”
“No. Okay, someone suggested that the only reason you and your mother helped my nana get a job here was to get closer to the Roberts family. I didn’t want to believe it.”
“But then I came over here . . .” she sniffed, “and I automatically ran over to talk to Justin Roberts instead of hanging out with you.”
The steam kettle whistled loud, saving me from responding. I poured two cups of tea, covered the cups with plates, and set a timer for five minutes. Turning back, I took a steadying breath, but it did nothing to uncoil the knots twisting in my stomach. “Char. Honestly, I blocked you, and then I
was so busy with getting ready for these trials that I wasn’t really thinking about anything else. If I hadn’t been so fixated on the trials, I probably would have unblocked you by now.”
“And, pretended you didn’t think that I was using you for social standing?” she asked before taking another bite.
“Are you?”
She squeezed her eyes closed. “I wasn’t. My mom probably was. Honestly, I don’t even recognize her anymore.” Char opened her eyes and met my gaze. “I don’t recognize myself anymore. Sometimes, January, I just stand in the mirror and whisper, “I hate you,” over and over again. But other days, I think that I’ve somehow landed in the best situation that I could ever ask for. My soul has longed for you to be here, and then you’re here, and I’m still so caught up in all of this. It’s all I think about, January, and sometimes I feel like if I stop partying, calling, and texting with these people for a single moment, everything I have will implode.”
“Damn.” I grabbed our teas and set one in front of her.
“Thanks,” she whispered before gulping a huge sip down.
Her eyes rose to mine, and her shoulders shook. “I’m sorry that I ignored your call.”
“Char, it’s not even that big of a deal.” I scooted my chair over and wrapped an arm around her muscular shoulders. “Damn, Char, you’ve been working out,” I said after a moment, and, thankfully, that got her to breathe a laugh.
“Yeah, athletics are a big part of the program at Blackburn.” She leaned in against me. “You actually want to go there? You can’t stand rich jerks.”
“It doesn’t seem like everyone who goes there is a rich jerk. I’ve been hanging out with the scholarship seniors. They’ve gone out of their way to help me prepare for the trial.”
New tears coursed down Char’s face. “Great. My best friend in the world is going to transfer to my school and hang out with a group of people who hate my guts.”
“Char,” I chuckled as I said her name. “That sounds like this whole thing is all about you.”
She scrubbed at her cheeks. “Sorry.”
I sighed. “It doesn’t matter, anyway.” Now my eyes were tearing up, so I took a big gulp of my bitter, black tea. “There’s absolutely no way that I’m passing the Character Trial.”
“What?” Charlotte banged down her teacup. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Do you know what these Blackburn kids do for fun? It’s disgusting. You have more character than all of them put together.”
I didn’t point out that these were the people she was so desperate to win the approval of that she couldn’t relax for a single moment. She already knew. I didn’t want to give Char one more reason to whisper that she hated herself to her own reflection.
“Seriously, Corey Mitchel said, flat out, that his mother steals from her new husband and blames their endless stream of housekeepers. He even bragged that she gave him a cut when he found out. And, they’re filthy rich already. He uses it to supply the party with coke, to get people to like him.” She lifted her hands. “Not that I do that stuff.”
“You don’t even swear, Char,” I said.
“These guys think drugs are sexy and forbidden.”
“Yeah, well, they’ve never seen a fifty-year-old fall asleep with powder all over their nose in a house with cockroaches. Really dampens the sex appeal.”
She stuck her tongue out and cringed. “Uh, your mom dates such losers.”
“By most people’s standards, my mom would probably be considered a loser.” The words hurt, especially in light of the fact that, according to my character interview, I was probably going to be considered a loser too. I was a thief who witnessed violent crimes and looked the other way.
“You want me to take you to go see her?” Char asked. “Your mom loves me.”
She did. My mother considered Char a second daughter. Char had come over to our house for a forbidden taste of chaos from her super strict and religious mother. Growing up, I had gone to Char’s house for the opposite.
I squeezed her shoulders. “Thanks, but someone else offered to give me rides on those days, and I already accepted.”
Her brow wrinkled. “Really, who? Your mom hates her mother.”
This was public knowledge.
“A friend. If I’d have known that you were going to offer, though, I probably wouldn’t have accepted.”
This wasn’t really true. Char was way too close to my dynamic with my mother. She always wanted to analyze what was happening and what I could do to make sure my mother stuck to her plans of self-improvement. Selfish as it was, I wanted someone who was either only on my side or nobody’s side at all.
“You know what, January, they don’t even have a right to judge your character,” Char said. “You are the best person I know, and you basically raised your mom. You should just tell them who you are, and if they still think they’re better than you, then they can go have sex with themselves.”
“Translation, you think I should go tell the judges to fuck themselves?” I smiled over my tea before draining the rest. “That’ll help my chances.”
“Don’t tell them to do . . . that. But, you know, just tell them who you are instead of letting them pick you apart. My stepdad is the junior CTO of the Hawthorne Group . . .” she rolled her eyes, “So all I needed to do was the interview. But I could tell that maybe what they’re looking for in their students isn’t so clear cut good vs. bad. You actually might be who they’re looking for.” She raised her hands. “Just don’t lie. Not that you would, but I did without even meaning to, and they almost didn’t let me in. My lovely stepdad had to pull strings.”
“You don’t like him?” I asked because, from the sound of it, she loathed the guy. It was a right turn from how she used to feel about the computer programmer.
Char’s green eyes met mine. “I don’t like them, my mom and stepdad. She’s always been a little cold, but now it’s like she doesn’t even think of me as her daughter anymore. I’m just one more tool in her arsenal.” Char shook her head. “I don’t think she’s really like this, but when they’re together, he acts like the reasonable and kind one, and she’s like this robot.” Char rubbed down her face.
The doorbell rang, and Char sat straight.
“Who’s that?”
“Uh. Crap.” There was only one person that I could think of who’d be ringing the doorbell right now. “It could be Justin Roberts. I . . .” I searched around, wondering what the hell I could say, “I borrowed his Calculus book, and I don’t think he trusts me.”
Sheer terror fell over Char’s features. “Oh no. I look like a nightmare. Don’t I?” Her hands wiped over her cheeks. “I’m always supposed to be flawless.”
“Flawless?”
That was just stupid.
“Can I wash my face and use some of your make up?”
“My stuff makes you break out.”
Char had super sensitive skin, and I used the most generic brands that I could find that didn’t test on animals.
Char’s breaths came fast, and she grabbed her chest, looking like she was genuinely terrified of this situation. She was under so much unnecessary pressure; it made a lot of sense to me now. Char didn’t love me less. She didn’t value herself the way she used to. For a long time, I believed that Mrs. Russell was the best mother in the entire world, but seeing Char like this made me feel sick.
“You go hide, and I’ll do my best to get rid of him fast.”
I hurried downstairs and swung open the door to find Justin leaning against the sill, without a shirt on. He wore only a bathing suit, and his body and hair dripped with water. In the distance, I could hear music and the sound of people talking and laughing. I couldn’t help but stare for a second as he leaned in, hands propping him up against the doorframe. And then I noticed his face and the cold expression there.
Oh, I was getting a visit from Justin 2.0.
“What do you want?” I asked as I glared up. “I really can’t deal with evil Justin
right now.”
“Evil Justin?” He didn’t sound amused.
“Sweet Justin’s alter ego. He comes out when other people are around.”
“You’re hilarious,” he deadpanned before nodding back to where Char’s hatchback sat in the driveway. “Well, you can tell Charlotte Russell that she’s not welcome on my property.”
“What is your problem?” I growled before stepping into the front porch area and closing the door behind me. Justin didn’t give me any room, so I almost walked straight into him. The cement seared into my feet as the oppressive heat closed in around me, and I jumped back onto our bristly welcome mat. Leaning back into the door, I glared up at Justin and crossed my arms over my chest. “Dude, you better not be coming over to my house and telling me who I can and cannot have over for tea.”
“Uh. Yeah, I can.” He glared down. “Do you want to know what her mother has been up to for the last couple days — visiting with Gina, regaling her and a bunch of other assholes with stories about your home life. Gina is fascinated with you for the moment, so Mrs. Russell is saying anything and everything she can to share that spotlight. They were just laughing about your mother setting your kitchen on fire and running out into the street naked for help.”
That hurt. It hurt right in my chest. But he had no right to hold Char accountable for that.
“Char isn’t her mother,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “You should know that better than anybody. Tell Mrs. Russell to get lost, and you won’t hear a word of complaint from me, but Char is my friend. I live here. My grandmother pays for rent with labor.” I pointed into his face. “And you are not allowed to tell me who can come to visit me at this house. Therefore, you have no right to kick her out. Go away.”
“Yes. I do. I’m saying that she’s not allowed on my property, which surrounds your house. She’s not allowed to drive up my driveway or access road. Her car isn’t allowed to be parked in front of my garage. She’s not allowed to walk these ten feet of gravel.”
A Bite at the Cherry: A High School Vampire Bully Romance (Blackburn Academy Book 1) Page 14