Heartless: A High School Bully Romance (The Privileged of Pembroke High Book 1)

by Ivy Fox

  Why did she even reveal such personal information anyway? It’s not like she ever cared. She has never been to a single doctor’s appointment, check-up, or exam. Nothing. She ignored my illness much in the same way she’s always ignored me, so why talk about it now, as if it was something so pertinent in her life? The only reason I can come up with is that she will use it to her advantage somehow. Vivienne never says anything to anyone without calculating each word first. If she approached the subject today, there had to be a reason behind it—one that would work to her benefit.

  The sad thing is, I don’t even care to find out why she did it in the first place. The only thing that concerns me is that she ceases to make my life uncomfortable and goes back to her usual neglect. If her intent is to make my life more difficult than it already is, then the minute the clock hits midnight on my eighteenth birthday, I’ll have my bags packed and ready to head back home to Brookhaven. No college is worth the torment. I’ll just have to find other ways to impress Berklee.

  Don’t you mean Juilliard? I imagine Ollie whispering in my ear, the echo of his supportive voice still lingering in my subconscious.

  I must confess, the twins did make me daydream about Juilliard from time to time. The way they believed in me, in my capabilities, made me want to take the leap of faith and apply to the prestigious school of performing arts. But now, with them hating me as they do, staying in New York is no longer an option. I wouldn’t survive living in a city that I could serendipitously run into them and whatever new girlfriend they had clinging to their arm. Boston is my only option to stay sane.

  Again, I find myself not paying much attention, so when Elle suddenly stops in front of me, I smack right into her.

  “Hey there. Watch your step. You’re Amazonian-like, and I’m tiny compared to you,” she jokes, giving me a little nudge.

  “I’m hardly Amazonian,” I laugh out.

  “Yes, you are, Holland. I feel like I need a stepladder just to talk to you.”

  “I’m hardly five-foot-eight.”

  “Like I said—Amazonian! My face literally comes to your boobs,” she continues to kid, her laughter contagious.

  I put my hand over my mouth, giggling at her absurd statement.

  “Hey, none of that,” she orders, pulling my hand away. “You have a beautiful smile. Don’t hide it for anyone’s benefit.” She raises her brows seriously.

  “Okay.” I nod, feeling shy with her praise.

  Maybe the reason I’ve never wanted to be the center of attention spurs from never getting any in the first place. I know the person I am and who I want to be, but receiving compliments of any kind have always made me feel uncomfortable. As if I’m the butt of some joke, that no one had the decency to explain.

  “Hmm, so why did we stop?” I ask, hoping to move past my awkwardness.

  “We’re here!” she announces cheerfully, walking up to two large, iron gates. “Holland, welcome to Pembroke High.”

  My jaw is already firmly placed on the cement sidewalk in awe as I watch Elle punch in a key code, opening the gates wide enough for us to step through. When we get inside, my eyes are greeted with a lush courtyard of green grass with a marble fountain at the center and Victorian-style buildings surrounding it.

  This was not how I imagined a high school to look. Not that I’ve ever stepped foot inside one, but from all the TV shows I’ve watched, I wasn’t prepared for this. Pembroke looks more like a college campus that people pay a fortune to attend. With its various historic buildings and ivy vines trailing around their borders, the area looks like something out of a Jane Austin novel.

  “Wow,” I hush.

  “Impressive, right? It’s our own little world, hidden away from the concrete jungle outside.”

  “It’s extraordinary.” I gawk, taking in the typical old English landscape, amazed by each new, refined detail.

  “You haven’t seen anything yet. Wait until you see inside the buildings,” she bellows excitedly, obviously proud of her school. And what’s not to be proud of? It’s exquisite.

  “So, the two buildings to your left are Morrison and Hamilton Houses. That’s where freshman and sophomores have most of their classes. These two to the right are called Avery House and Blythe House. They’re for juniors and seniors only, so that’s where you and I will spend most of the year,” she explains as we pass all four buildings and head toward the one in front of us. I’m still studying the craftsmanship of one of its columns when Elle calls out to me to proceed to the main building.

  “This is called Pembroke House, after the school. It’s where all the communal areas are located, like the cafeteria, the library, the gym, and of course, the headmaster’s office. And don’t let that title fool you; he’s just like any other principal. The only difference is that he has his hands full of teenagers whose weekly allowance is more than he probably makes in a month.”

  “It’s a little intimidating,” I let out, wondering how I’ll ever adapt in a place like this.

  “Don’t let it be. Like I said, it’s just another school, like anywhere else. We just happen to have the latest tech and school equipment available, and the teachers work their butts off to impress the parents more than their kids do. Aside from that, it’s pretty laid back.”

  “So laid back we need uniforms to attend, right?” I goad.

  A small, mischievous grin tugs on her lips and my heart does a little flip remembering someone else’s that held the same devious smile when he was up to something.

  “Don’t knock it. You’d be surprised how many times a short skirt has gotten this girl out of having to hand in her homework on time.” She winks, twirling away toward the end of the long hall.

  Even though the memory of her brother still haunts my thoughts, I can’t help but giggle at her sassy remark.

  “Okay, let me show you around, so you at least know where the main rooms are,” she offers, and for the next hour, that’s exactly what we do. My mind is still spinning when we finally stop at the door in one of the halls on the second floor.

  “Okay, let’s just grab your uniform and then we can go have some lunch. What do you say?”

  “I’d love that. Thank you,” I reply in earnest.

  Elle gives me one of her bright smiles and ushers me in. There is a large counter separating us from a ginger-haired woman with coke-bottle glasses that looks oddly like Sybill Trelawney from Harry Potter.

  “Hi, Shirley. I’m here to pick up my sister’s uniform. My father called in earlier about it. It’s under the name of Holland West,” she announces so casually. I’m a little caught off guard by how easily Elle has accepted me as her sister, without even batting an eye.

  Shirley gives a little nod, accompanied by a slanted smile, and goes to the back to get my things. I don’t know if I should be happy that she didn’t acknowledge the ‘sister’ remark, or wary that she took it on face value alone. Before I’m able to ask Elle if it’s best not to introduce me in such a way, I hear the door behind us open, and we both turn around instinctively.

  “Well, if it isn’t Elle Grayson, as I live and breathe. I thought you’d still be living it up in the Hamptons,” one of the two blondes announces with an over-the-top southern accent.

  That can’t be real, can it?

  Both girls have on too much eye makeup, and not enough clothes to cover their cleavage. Their Manolo Blahnik heels make their legs look longer than mine under their short skirts. I swallow dryly, hoping to God the uniforms they make us wear aren’t that revealing.

  “Hi, Lace. No. Vacation is over, so now it’s back to the books, I’m afraid,” Elle responds, her tone shifting from lively to bland in a split second.

  “So I see. Who’s your friend here?” Lace asks, as her mute friend stares me up and down, scrunching her nose disapprovingly when she’s finished taking stock of me.

  The urge to side-step behind Elle, just so her wandering eye would look elsewhere, is strong. But I stay st
ill and try to keep my face as unexpressive as possible, so they don’t see how uncomfortable they’ve made me with just one long stare.

  “This is Holland. My stepsister,” Elle explains flatly, but then turns and throws me a little wink.

  The small effort she made to put me at ease works, and I offer the two girls a broad smile of my own.

  “OMG! So it is true! Your dad really did get married over the summer. Damn shame. I know a lot of girls who will be disappointed to hear he is officially off the market,” Lace squeals, clapping her hands with the new bit of gossip she looks so eager to spread.

  “Gross,” I hear Elle mumble under her breath.

  “Is she staying with you?” The other girl interrupts, her manicured brow lifted up high toward her scalp.

  “Of course she’s staying with me, Kim. Where else would she live?” Elle counters incredulously.

  “Has anyone told Addison your new sister is living with you? Because, if not, I so want to be there when it happens,” Lace laughs out, but her friend Kim doesn’t find it so funny.

  Who the hell is Addison, and why will she be upset with me living at the Grayson’s?

  “Who’s Addison?” I softly ask Elle, who is standing beside me.

  “Oh, you haven’t told her yet? Priceless! Don’t you worry your pretty little head about who Addison is, doll. She’ll be sure to make an introduction.” Lace giggles ominously.

  Great.

  Thankfully, Shirley comes back with my clothes and asks for my signature. Turning away from the two girls doesn’t feel rude, but them giggling behind my back sure does.

  “Suddenly, this year has gotten a whole lot more interesting. Leave it to a Grayson to liven things up.” Lace giggles, while in my peripheral, I see Elle rolling her eyes.

  “You done?” she says, crossing her arms over her chest.

  Shirley’s eyes are fixed on the ground as she hands me four bags worth of clothing and informs me to come back next week if something needs adjusting. I’m not sure if she’s not making eye contact because she’s shy, or because she doesn’t want to face the two girls behind me, either.

  “Just one more question, Elle. Is Ash also in town? I haven’t seen or heard from him in forever. Have him call me, mkay?” Lace says sweetly.

  My hands ball into fists, and I almost tear the handle on the bags because of it. I take a deep breath and nudge Elle, indicating I’m ready to leave this place.

  “Actually, tell him we both miss him,” Kim adds with a flirtatious sweep of her lower lip. “If he’s not doing anything, have him call the two of us up, and we’ll both be more than happy to drop by your place.”

  Elle pretends to gag and pushes past the girls, now laughing like hyenas, so we can finally leave.

  Once we are out of Pembroke High’s gates, I let out the breath I had been holding, and Elle immediately picks up on it.

  “Don’t let them intimidate you. They’re just trying to wind you up, that’s all. Here, let me help you,” Elle explains while taking a few bags off my hands.

  “Are they all like that? I mean… are all the girls in Pembroke High going to give me a hard time because I’m living with you now?”

  She halts her steps and places the bags on the floor, grabbing my shoulders and turning me to face her head-on—looking far too serious for one so young.

  “Don’t be that girl, Holland. Not all girls are bitches with a capital B, just a select few. It’s the same with the guys you’ll meet here; not all of them are major sluts or fuckboys that can’t keep their dicks in their pants. Pembroke is just like every other high school. You’ll meet some incredible people here, and also some that suck big time. Don’t fall prey to stupid labels. You’re smarter than that.”

  “Are you sure you’re only sixteen?” I grin, honestly impressed by Elle’s self-awareness of her own mind. Most days I’m a hot mess, trying my best just to keep afloat, but Elle surely has it together.

  “I was the only girl in a house full of testosterone. I grew up fast under my big brothers’ watch. Don’t tell them I said this, but I can’t say they did a shabby job of it, either,” she jokes with a confident wink.

  The mere mention of her brothers casts another shadow on our conversation. Maybe going to such an elite school like Pembroke won’t be so bad, compared to what I’ll probably have to endure at home. Especially if there are girls like Lace and Kim dropping by.

  “Well, I guess it can’t be worse than the way your brothers treat me. They hate me,” I mumble.

  “Why would you say that? My brothers don’t hate you. They just need a little time to get used to you,” she says, trying to comfort me.

  Somehow, I don’t think there are enough hours in a day, days in a week, and weeks in a year that will ever make them used to me being their sister. I, for one, won’t ever get used to it, and I won’t try to, either.

  “Is this because they left so suddenly during breakfast this morning? I wouldn’t take it personally, Holland. They just had a really messed up summer, and now everything is a punching bag to them,” she explains, picking up the bags from the ground and tilting her head for me to follow her.

  “Why? What happened this summer?”

  “Besides our father marrying the Wicked Witch of the East?” I can’t help the long frown that appears with that slapping remark. “Sorry. I know she’s your mother and all, but we’ve already established that the woman is as vile as they come.”

  “Is that it then? Am I paying for my mother’s actions?”

  She doesn’t have to answer. I already know I am.

  “No. You’re paying for our father’s.” She sighs. “But it’s not only that. Can you keep a secret?” I nod, even though I think I’ve had my share of secrets and lies to last a lifetime. “Some girl broke their hearts this summer. I don’t know all the details, only that she was a townie back in the Hamptons and that the twins have been pining over her for years. I’m not sure what happened. One day they were all head over heels, but the next they wanted to get back to New York ASAP.”

  Gulp.

  “Guess first loves are always like that, you know? They cause a lot of damage when it’s not reciprocated.”

  Gulp again.

  “You think they were in love?”

  “With Snow? Definitely. I have no doubts about it. But whatever she did hurt them bad. I know neither of the twins is Prince Charming or anything, but they’re not that bad, either. When they love, they love hard. I guess she was just some stupid idiot who didn’t know what she had when she had it. Bet she’s kicking herself now, though. She’ll never set eyes on them again. I can guarantee you that,” Elle promises scornfully.

  “I wouldn’t be too sure,” I mumble.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” I yelp. “So, what are you in the mood for?” I ask, quickly changing topics.

  Why haven’t they told their sister that I’m Snow? Whatever the reason, I won’t be party to another misunderstanding. I like Elle, and she’s gone out of her way to make me feel welcomed. I won’t jeopardize our budding friendship just so they can save face.

  I’m about to reveal the whole story to Elle when her phone pings with a message.

  “Guess we’ll have to eat back at the house. We’ve been summoned by Mom and Dad,” she wisecracks, but then immediately scrunches up her forehead in disgust. “Ew! That sounded so wrong, even to my ears. Never let me say that crap again, deal?”

  “Deal,” I answer, and put a pin in my big revelation for now.

  If I have to go back into that house, I’m going to need all the friendly faces I can get. Especially given the fact that tonight, I have to be paraded and introduced to most of my mother’s and the judge’s friends, and pretend to be overjoyed with their union.

  I knew I’d miss Brookhaven sooner or later. I just never expected to be so homesick in less than twenty-four hours of being here.

  Chapter 18

  Holland
>
  When we get home, my mother informs us that she booked this afternoon at the spa for the three of us, so we will be relaxed for her big party tonight. A million excuses come to mind to refuse her offer. If she really wants to see me relaxed, then being as far away from her as possible usually does the trick. But when Elle starts to rave about the spa, looking all excited about having a girls-only afternoon, I hesitantly concede.

  Elle had lived with mostly men all her life, so I doubt she had many afternoons of pampering. Her enthusiasm at having gained a sister out of her father’s marriage seems oddly genuine; maybe because the men of the house never made much of an effort to do ‘girly things’ with her.

  I hardly have the heart to tell her I don’t enjoy those things, especially when she’s this ecstatic. I’ll just have to suck it up to preserve that joyful gleam in her eye, and turn the other cheek should my mother cause me further humiliation. Besides, I’m sure that having Elle as a buffer between Vivienne and me will make the afternoon more tolerable.

  At least that’s what I hoped, though by now, I should be more accustomed to things not panning out the way I intended.

  Instead, our spa afternoon is as awkward and uncomfortable as I initially suspected it would be. Throughout the massages, facials, sea-salt scrubs, and mud wraps, Vivienne tries to charm Elle, but with very little success. Every attempt she makes to win her over is like punching a brick wall—pointless and excruciating to watch. Each question my mother asks, attempting to pull Elle’s attention, is met with monosyllables from the petite brunette. Instead of feeding into my mother’s plan to bond with her over a mani-pedi, Elle just ignores her most of the time, eager to get to know me better.

  I don’t miss the side-eyed looks my mother gives me. Even though I shouldn’t care how Vivienne feels, I try to revert back to her as much as I possibly can without making it obvious that I’m including her in our conversation. This seems to placate her temper, and once Elle understands what I’m doing, she throws in the towel and finally gives my mother the limelight she craves. By the time we return home, Vivienne is all smiles once more.