My phone vibrates. Ha. Speaking of the colonel. James, whatever you are doing, stop it now! Julie reached out to me and this needs to end.
His message zaps my mouth dry. Oh no.
What is Julie thinking? She knows Dad was one step away from yanking me out of school after the prank I pulled in May. How could she tell him about something so harmless?
I glance over at Creighton, who’s staring me down with a magnitude of fury I’ve never seen before.
Well, here’s to royally screwing up. I send out a quick text, End it. Six seconds later the black screens turn on, but instead of the prairie dog we all get the pleasure of staring at the tired navy-blue slide that says Welcome to Brockmore Academy in a handwritten, colonial font.
The math teacher, Ms. Jennison, picks up the microphone from the podium and leads the prayer before the meal, a tradition that Creighton’s never forgone.
Come on. A frickin’ prairie dog, and she acts like I kicked her in the balls.
“Bon appétit!” The servers lift the silver covers off the serving dishes like a synchronized dance along the serving table. They whisk in a basket of warm honey-oat bread, butter, and a pitcher of sparkling water to each table. Tradition dictates that the senior guys eat last, which is a cruel sort of torture considering we’re all always hungry enough to devour a bear.
And that’s why I have the pizza. I pull the pizza box out from under the tablecloth with my tennis shoes.
“This is going to take forever.” Mason presses his head against the table.
“Don’t I always have you guys covered?” I pick out a slice, a little cold but still promising to be damn tasty. “Pre-dinner dinner, anyone?”
Proctor’s eyes widen, and he starts drooling before he even reaches for the slice. “You’re a saint, you know that, right?”
I hand out the remaining five slices to the guys at my table. “They got a little messed up, but they’re still edible.”
“You’re not having any?”
“Nah. I ate a piece outside.” Twenty minutes pass while we watch everyone else in the room grab food.
“James Parson.” Creighton’s stern voice rattles my spine. The tone is one I’ve heard only once before and that was when she almost expelled me as a first-year student after I stole Madison High School’s mascot. Upon reflection, letting the mule loose in the dining hall wasn’t my most brilliant move, but it did receive the attention of the senior football players, who put me in front of the head coach. When I became the first freshman to make varsity in twenty-eight years, they were excited to have me, making the prank worth every Saturday that Creighton kept me in the stables to serve detention.
I now consider myself a professional at mucking out stalls.
“James, first thing in the morning, you will join me in my office. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I slip my phone into my pocket, thankful my associate thought to go through another party for our coding. The last thing I need is for Creighton to snoop around my apps and texts, which—thanks to Dad—she’s been granted full authority over.
She is my aunt, after all.
“Six a.m., before football practice.” Her finger waggles in my face a little too long before she finally pulls it back. “Feel free to go on up to the buffet now, boys.”
We press our lips together, keeping silent as she retreats from our table. Once cleared, we collect our plates and head over to the massive spread of food.
“You didn’t even make it an hour, James.” Mason punches my shoulder. “Remember you’re our captain this year. Coach Davvy will be pissed if Creighton benches you for the first game.”
“Or the rest of the season,” Proctor mumbles.
They don’t know the headmistress is my aunt. No one does, and for that I am still in debt to her. “Don’t worry so much.”
Maybe I did go too far with this one. I’ll swing by her place before curfew and apologize. Straighten this up before Dad wigs out and my entire world gets yanked out from under my feet.
I may complain about Brockmore a lot, but between my bed in Room 321 and the bedroom I have at Julie’s, this place is more of a home than I’ve known most of my life.
Leaving Brockmore before graduation would devastate me.
“James, you’re holding up the line.” A high-pitched giggle floats over my shoulder.
“Emma.” I press my lips together as I pile steak into my tortilla.
“What? No ‘hi’? No ‘how was your summer?’” She steps in front of Proctor with her plate so she can be right next to me. Her floral perfume somehow masks the scent of the steak.
A true crime.
“You can’t still be giving me the silent treatment.”
“You cheated on me.” I reach over her arm to grab a scoop of guacamole.
“I can’t believe you’re still mad about that. It was four months ago, and I apologized.” She leans in, her fingers feathering out to touch mine.
I step away from her. “Not mad anymore. I’m over it, but I’m not dumb.”
Her lower lip juts out, and she pushes out her chest, stepping close.
Last year, I would have glanced down to check her out.
Last year, my knees would have become noodles.
But this year, I swore to myself that I was done with girls like Emma. For two years, we had our little dance, and for two years my life was filled with nothing but drama. I hadn’t realized it until our summer apart. But God, it’s nice not to have to constantly navigate the complex emotions of that girl and just do my own thing.
Freedom. That’s what my senior year is all about.
“I’ve changed.” Her voice is steady and soft. She reaches out, touching my arm. “You have, too. You’re stronger.”
“Go squeeze Proctor’s arm. He spent the entire summer in the gym. I’m sure he’d appreciate the compliment.” With a quick turn, I face her toward Proctor.
It does nothing, though. Instead she pouts and looks back at me over her shoulder. “I’ll leave my window unlocked tonight, James. Why fight the inevitable?”
She’s like a rock in the bottom of my shoe during box jumps. It’s like she practices the words of every high school guy’s fantasies. Her pull is toxic, but not for me, not after walking into Matt Turner’s room last May and finding her on top of him, naked. The experience eradicated every cell in my body that used to find her attractive.
So she’s right: I have changed. I’m completely over her.
I peel her fingers off my arm again. “I won’t be climbing out or in any windows this year, so don’t wait up. Enjoy your meal.”
Five minutes later, Victoria turns her chair around and joins our table. “So are you and Emma for real over?” Her brow arches while she plucks a grape off my plate, popping it into her mouth.
My hand hovers over my plate, protecting my food. When will girls realize that taking food from a guy is not cute? “We’re through.”
Her curls brush against my arm as she leans in. “Maybe we can hang out sometime?”
“Remind me, who’s your co-captain for the cheerleading squad, Victoria?” The fallout of Emma snagging a co-captain position for this year—as only a junior—rocked the top of school drama for about a week last May. Victoria was livid about sharing her spotlight.
She laughs. “There’s nothing wrong with a little competition.”
“Did she send you over here?”
“Like I’d listen to her.” Victoria draws her finger along her jawline, tempting me.
Nope, nope, nope. I focus on the edge of the tablecloth. I will not be that type of guy anymore. Not after what Dad said to me last May. Get serious, he said. Or else you can kiss Brockmore good-bye.
She strums her fingers on the table. “Emma hates me. My jumps will always be better than hers.”
“I’d like to see you jump, Vickie.” Mason leans back in his chair with a grin. “I’ll hang out.”
She feigns a gag. “In your dreams, Mason.”
“Excuse me.” I pluck my half-full plate off the table and duck out the back door to the patio. Outside there’s a group of sophomore girls whose eyes glue to me while I take a seat on the bench to finish my frickin’ burrito.
God help me.
Chapter Three
Edelweiss
My eyes flicker up from my map to the building with the giant bell where I’ll be taking my first English class tomorrow morning. Brockmore’s brick academic buildings and white limestone library border a large grassy space they call the quad. Already students trail to and from the library, clutching their laptops to their chests with a strained expression. Either they are too eager to jump into homework, or they are cramming in their summer reading essays before the night is done.
“Lost?” A guy with light-blond hair leans against the wall of the mathematics building. “Need some help?” He grins, peeling himself off the brick and walking over.
“Not lost. Just new.” I extend my hand and give his a firm shake. “Hi, I’m Edel.”
“Jace.” He glances over my shoulder, stepping closer to get a peek at my map. “I can show you around if you want.”
“I was just heading inside.” Bummer. Where was he an hour ago?
“You’re the girl who just snuck into the banquet hall with James, right?”
“Yes.” My hand twitches, popping my thumb joint. Will I forever be known as that girl?
“Are you two…?” A lift of his right brow finishes the sentence.
“Oh God, no. I barely know him.”
“Well good.” He grins, then flashes his perfectly straight teeth. “So, you’re the new junior?”
My fingers wrap tightly around the strap of my messenger bag as he takes a step closer. “You guys don’t get new students very often, do you?”
“It’s not so rare, but you’re worth remembering. An ambassador’s daughter, correct?”
I nod, folding my map, hoping the crinkle of paper will distract him from the heat on my cheeks. Ugh. The last thing I wanted was for everyone to know I was new. I had hoped to transition in unnoticed.
He shakes his head with a grin. “So, I was thinking of watching a movie tonight in one of the study rooms. Want to come?”
“A movie? Yeah!” That’d allow me to check off hanging out with peers from my list. It’s ridiculous that it’s even on there, but whatever. “Let me go get my roommate, Tuti, and we’ll meet you there soon.”
He chuckles. “No. Not with Tuti. Just you and me.”
Oh.
…Ooh.
Wow. I walked right into that one. There’s no way I’m foolish enough to lock myself in a room with a guy I’ve only known for twenty-eight seconds. “Um, tonight won’t work.”
“Edel!” A familiar voice floats over the quad from behind me. I spin around to catch Emma skipping down the stairs with a wave. The sunset makes her wavy blond hair glow. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” She narrows her eyes at Jace. “Seriously? Don’t prey on her.”
He shrugs, slipping away as slyly as he came.
“Thanks,” I whisper once he’s gone.
“He’s scum. The next time he tries to hit on you, flick him off and keep walking. Jace is too lazy to try to keep up.”
“Got it.”
She grins, biting her lower lip. “Thanks for what you said at dinner about you and James. Most people aren’t so honest. I admire it.”
I nod politely while I study her. She seems like she means it, her eyes steady and both feet pointed right at me while we talk, yet goose bumps flash down the back of my arms.
“You okay?” she asks, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
What am I thinking? She did just get rid of Jace for me. The shiver is probably because I’m so nervous about class tomorrow.
“Yup. I’m fine.”
“Good.” She removes her hand and links her thumb through her belt loop. “Anyway, I bet you’d like a little help getting back to your dorm. I remember my first week on campus as a freshman. I was so lost! The layout of Brockmore Hall is like a maze. Plus, I bet a hot shower would be heaven right now, huh?”
Red stains still smear my clothing. I was so nervous about knowing my route for tomorrow morning that I forgot to change.
She winds a strand of hair around her finger while studying the stains on my pants. “That should come out in the laundry if you cycle it with hot water.”
Doesn’t hot water set a stain? “Ugh, I’ll try that, thanks.”
“Anyway, we have amazing shower heads here. The spray pounds into your shoulders, and you just melt, like a spa.”
“I think this was the first ever pizza spa experience. These oil marks have destroyed my clothes.”
Her light, bubbly giggle makes me grin. “I’ll show you how to get back to your room and give you an official tour on the way.” She waves to her friends in one of the study alcoves as we pass, then rattles on about the school, giving me the real details that matter, like the best places for cell phone reception, where all the different cliques hang out, and shortcuts to avoid passing Headmistress Creighton’s office, since being caught out of class earns you a day mucking out the stables.
Once up the grand stairway, she leads me to the girls’ wing of the dormitory. All the rooms down the upper-class female hall have signs on their doors featuring girls’ names in glitter paint. Charlotte’s and Ainsley’s also have paper flowers.
Wow. Everyone really went all out in the hour after dinner while I walked the grounds. Why didn’t I pay attention? I missed a great opportunity to get to know these girls.
Our door is bare, though. Tuti must have been gone, too, so at least I’ll be able to tackle the project with her later tonight.
Emma leans up against the wall. “Why don’t you grab your things, and I’ll show you the showers?”
“You don’t have to do that. I remember—down the second hallway to the left, right?”
“Actually, you’ll find the water and ice machines with that turn. Bathrooms are in the far back.”
I scrunch up my face, trying to remember the zigzag layout of the dorms.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll show you.”
“Cool.” I duck inside my room. The air is stale and stuffy so I rush to the window and open it. Wouldn’t want Emma thinking we smelled like boys if she happens to step in. I turn on the overhead light, and I swear it’s dimmer than earlier today. Must have lost a lightbulb. Better call maintenance after my shower. Wait, first I’ll check with Tuti to see if she already called, because it’s obvious she’s been in here since dinner. She decorated her bed with a few of the saris she had hung in her closet earlier this afternoon. My side looks a little dull, but at least my quilt is beautiful.
I wrestle with my dresser drawer to free a ratty old tank top and a pair of yoga pants. When I open the door with my towel, clothing, and shower caddy in hand, Emma chuckles. “Honey, you don’t need the outfit. We’re all girls here, right? Your PJs will get wet in the shower. There’s no place to put them. Leave them here, wrap a towel around yourself, and bring your caddy. Us girls always joke that if you come to Brockmore as a prude, you’ll leave hoping to start a nudist colony.” She laughs. “Thank goodness we have strict access codes so the boys can’t even sneak a peek onto our side.” Emma shoos me back into the room with a playful swat to my thigh. “I’ll wait for you, don’t worry.”
A nudist colony? Walking around naked isn’t something I do outside of my own room, ever, but I also don’t want to make a big deal about all this. I’m here to experience high school, right? I pop out my thumb as I slide off my clothing and tug my XL towel around myself. The soft terrycloth covers everything from my chest past my bum, but given my luck, I’ll probably make a wrong turn and end up on the wrong side of the dormitory door, so I keep my bra and underwear on. I unhook my straps though, shoving them down into the towel so I don’t have to explain my paranoia to Emma.
“Ready?” She pops her head in.
“Yup.”
“Follow me.” On the way to the showers, she asks me about the places I’ve lived, sharing that she’s spent summers in London, Rome, and Paris. “They don’t do air conditioning like they do here,” she sighs. “It was always too hot.”
I try out my own version of a chatty giggle. Our laughter echoes off the cinderblocks. “The air here feels like heaven compared to what I’m used to. I had no idea what I was missing living without air conditioning.”
“Oh, I can’t even imagine surviving in the places you’ve lived.”
I shrug. “They may be hot, but they’re beautiful. I’ve loved every place my parents have taken me.”
Emma swings open the bathroom door. “I’m sure you have. Anyway, enjoy your shower. You deserve it after all your trips around the world.”
I find a shower stall with a dry floor midway down the row. It was so nice of Emma to go out of her way to help me. This is all going so much better than I expected. Mom will be thrilled when I tell her I’ve already made a friend.
Damn, it sounds so pathetic to think that way, but I don’t have many long-term friends at all. It was me, my parents, and the environment around us. It was rare that I got to hang out with the same group of kids for more than a few months at a time.
I unsnap my bra and slide off my underwear, then set them on the bench in the first section of the stall suite. The privacy of these showers is one of the main reasons I liked Brockmore Academy the most. Communal showering would not have worked for me.
The iron rings scrape against the rod when I pull the curtain back to step into the showering area with my caddy. It takes a few moments for the shower to heat up, but when it does, I can’t help but sigh. Emma was right. The warm stream of water massages my shoulders. I’ve taken too many cool showers in my life. I crank up the heat as I turn around, and I swear the muscles in my back soften, a perfect prescription after being rammed by a motorbike.
The bathroom door squeaks loudly, and someone’s flip-flops smack against the damp floor. I grab my luffa and bodywash, speeding up. A lot of girls will probably want to shower before classes in the morning. The girl hums a low tune, almost a true tenor.
It Had to Be You Page 3