Then the last person she’d expected to see walked through the doors—Damien. He’d gotten tanner over the summer, probably from spending time outside on his teen tour, and his hair was longer—it almost hungover his dark brown eyes. Her heart pounded. Now she would find out whether or not he was going to ignore her and pretend like the time they’d spent together in July had never happened. She took deep breaths and played with the ends of her hair, praying he would notice her.
He waved when he spotted her, and she waved back, trying to keep herself from smiling like an idiot while her stomach flipped like crazy. Was he going to talk to her? At least he’d waved, so her fear of him ignoring her hadn’t come true. This wasn’t how she’d envisioned their first meeting since July—with her dressed wrong for school and her makeup smudged from crying—but he’d already seen her, so there was nothing she could do.
Alyssa was looking at Savannah, her eyes shining with a friendliness that hadn’t been there that morning. “Did Damien Sanders just wave to you?” she whispered.
“Yeah.” Savannah ran a hand through her hair and tried to play it cool, since Damien was getting closer. “We hung out a little bit over the summer.”
Alyssa’s jaw dropped, and Savannah couldn’t help but feel victorious after the way the girl had snubbed her earlier.
“Savannah Diamond,” Damien said, stepping into line behind her. “I’ve been wondering when I would run into you.” Then he studied her closer, his expression morphing into concern. “Are you okay? Your eyes look red.”
“It’s just allergies,” she lied, trying to sound upbeat. She’d never had allergies, but no way was she admitting to crying alone in the bathroom. “Anyway, how was the rest of your summer?”
“I did a Hawaii/Alaska teen tour,” he said. “We cruised through Alaska, toured the Pacific Coast, and stayed at some resorts in Hawaii. It was pretty cool.”
“Is that the tour by Rein?” Alyssa chimed in. “I’m looking into their Europe trip for next summer.”
“That’s the one.”
Savannah nodded as if she knew what they were talking about, even though she’d never traveled beyond California and Vegas. “I saw your pictures on Facebook,” she said. “It looked like you had fun.” She tried not to sound bitter, but when she thought about the album he’d posted, she was reminded of the two tall, tanned girls in lots of pictures with him. Even though it had made Savannah feel like a stalker, she’d clicked on both girls’ profiles. One of them lived in L.A., and the other in Miami, so they couldn’t be a threat, but she hated seeing them draped all over him—even if it might mean he’d meant it when he’d said he was over Madison.
“It was fun, and everyone was cool, but it got old being around the same forty people all the time,” he said. “I was glad to get home.”
“Is everyone keeping in touch?” Savannah asked, thinking mainly about L.A. and Miami.
“For the first few days back we chatted on Facebook and stuff, but most of them are from California, New York, D.C. and Florida, so we’ve mostly split ways,” he said. “But enough about me—what have you been up to while I’ve been gone?”
The real answer: doing mounds of work assigned by tutors to catch up on Goodman academics. But she wasn’t telling Damien that.
“Hanging with my sisters at the pool,” she said casually. She had spent a lot of time at the pool, but she’d usually brought her homework with her. “I’ve also been getting my YouTube channel started.”
“How’s that going?”
“It’s going okay.”
“Cool.” Damien smiled, watching her like he really cared, and a thrill went up her spine. “I’ll check it out tonight.”
Her heart shrank at the realization that he hadn’t seen her videos. “Let me know what you think,” she said. Just because she’d been tracking (stalking?) him online all summer didn’t mean he’d been doing the same to her. He’d been too busy traveling the country—and spending time with L.A. and Miami—to know her YouTube channel existed. Even now, he probably couldn’t wait to get out of the lunch line to hang out with his real friends.
Savannah ordered and paid for her sandwich. “I guess I’ll see you around,” she said to Damien, gathering her plate in preparation to join Wendy and whatever friends of hers would be at that table.
“Hold up,” he said. “Where are you sitting?”
Savannah’s stomach fluttered at the idea that Damien Sanders cared about where she was eating lunch. But she didn’t want to tell him she was sitting with the anime club.
“She was going to join me and some of the other volleyball girls at our table near the pool,” Alyssa jumped in. “Tryouts are soon, and we heard Savannah plays, so we’re hoping she makes the team.”
Savannah glanced questionably at Alyssa, who smiled and tossed her long hair over her shoulder, as if none of this should be strange. Clearly she was being welcoming now only because of Savannah’s connection to Damien.
But did it matter? It had broken the ice between them. Sure, things hadn’t gone well in first period, but now that Alyssa wanted to be friends, she seemed like a fun girl. And Savannah would have more in common with the volleyball team than with the anime club.
“Do you and Alyssa want to eat with me and my friends upstairs?” Damien asked. “If her friends don’t mind, of course.”
“That sounds great,” Alyssa said quickly. “I’m sure they won’t mind.”
“Okay.” Savannah couldn’t believe it. Sure, she was ditching Wendy, but when Savannah glanced around to find the other girl, a tall, lanky guy had joined Wendy at her table, so she wasn’t alone. She would understand. After all, Savannah—a sophomore—had been invited to sit at a table with seniors. And not just any seniors—Damien Sanders and his friends. Which hopefully wouldn’t include Madison, but it was too late to turn back now.
She tightened her grip on her water bottle to keep from shaking. “I thought the seniors went off campus for lunch?”
“We do sometimes,” Damien said. “But since today’s the first day back, most of us want to stay here and catch up.”
He led them upstairs to a group at the center table in the cafeteria, and introduced them to his friends. Savannah recognized two of them from Myst over the summer, but the others were new to her. As they ate, Damien and Alyssa were the only ones interested in talking to her—the rest of them were too busy gossiping about their summers—but that was fine by her.
At least Madison wasn’t sitting with them. But Damien kept glancing at the table where she was eating with Oliver and some of her other friends. Savannah’s heart dropped at the realization that he still wasn’t over Madison. But either Madison was oblivious to Damien, or she was an expert at ignoring him.
At the end of lunch, Savannah followed Alyssa to the trash cans. Alyssa was friendly and continued asking her questions—she was a completely different person from that morning.
Someone else called Savannah’s name, and she brightened at the sight of Nick Gordon pushing through the crowd. He glowed as usual, but there were also huge bags under his eyes.
“Hey, Nick,” Savannah said, relieved he wasn’t ignoring her, either.
“How’s your first day going?” he asked.
“It’s different from my old school, but it’s going well,” she lied, since she didn’t want to sound like a downer and tell him about how awful everything had been until she’d seen Damien in the sandwich line. “I met Alyssa in first period, and we both play volleyball. Do you two know each other?”
“We’ve seen each other around, but haven’t officially met,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m Nick.”
Alyssa nodded, as if she already knew who he was, and shook his hand. “Nice to officially meet you.”
Nick smiled and turned back to Savannah. “Did your tutoring this summer pay off?”
“I hope so,” she said. “But it’s hard to tell on the first day.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” he said. “And I’ve been checking out your YouTube channel when I have time. Your latest videos are great.”
“Thanks.” Savannah shrugged. He was probably only saying it to be nice, otherwise wouldn’t there be more people who agreed with him? “It’s good to know that at least a few people like the videos.”
“I bet one will go viral soon, and then you’ll be an instant hit.”
“That would be a dream come true.”
His blue eyes were so focused on hers, and her breath caught at how electric the air felt around them. He opened his mouth to say something else, but then Damien joined them, and Nick took a step back.
“Hey, man,” Damien said, as if he and Nick were friends. Which they weren’t—especially since Nick used to date Madison.
“Hey.” Nick slipped his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants. “Didn’t see you around much this summer.”
“I was doing some traveling.”
“Bet that was fun.” Nick held Damien’s gaze steadily, and if Savannah didn’t know better, she would have thought they were having a macho territory battle over her.
“I need to get to my next class,” Savannah said, glad to have an excuse to get Damien and Nick away from each other. “Thanks for inviting us to sit with you,” she said to Damien.
“You’re welcome to join us whenever you want.”
“And if you want a change of scenery, you can sit with me and my friends, too,” Nick offered. “We sit out on the upper deck looking over the pool until it gets too cold.”
“Thanks,” Savannah said, not wanting to promise either of them anything. Were they really fighting over sitting with her? Or was she making this out to mean more than it did? “I’ll see you guys around!”
Alyssa linked her arm with Savannah’s as they left the dining hall. “I can’t believe you know Damien Sanders and Nick Gordon and you didn’t mention it!” she said, bouncing as she walked.
“I met them both this summer,” Savannah said. “It’s a long story.”
“What are you doing after school today?”
“Nothing so far.” Well, she was supposed to connect with Evie on Skype to tell her about her first day, but Evie wouldn’t mind waiting.
“Good,” Alyssa said. “You can come with me, Brooke and Jackie to Starbucks and tell us everything that happened this summer with you and two of the hottest guys in school. Judging from the way they just acted, I have a feeling this is going to be good.”
Chapter 2: Courtney
“Thanks for having lunch with me,” Courtney said to Brett, taking a bite of her grilled cheese sandwich. The cheese was gooey and amazing—the dining hall at Goodman was a five-star restaurant compared to the cafeteria at Fairfield High. Brett had secured a table for them near the lake, beneath a tree and secluded from the main groups of students, which was just what Courtney needed.
“You looked like you needed a break from those girls in AP English.” He hadn’t sat with her in class—he’d been avoiding her since she’d told him they couldn’t continue whatever was going on between them. Which was for the best, because every time she saw him, or thought about him and the incredible times they’d shared during her first week in Vegas, it felt like there was a hole in her heart. But when the group of girls discussing fashion, partying, celebrities and gossip about their “friends” had tried to drag Courtney with them to lunch, she’d looked at Brett for help. Luckily he’d stepped up and rescued her from their clutches.
“They had good intentions, but an hour and fifteen minutes of lunch with them…” Courtney placed her grilled cheese down and contemplated how to word it nicely.
“Would be mentally exhausting?” Brett supplied.
“Exactly.” Courtney smiled and tried to ignore the electricity that arced between them. The best way to do that was to keep talking. “It was nice of those girls to reach out, but I didn’t feel like I had much in common with them.”
“It’s only been half a day, and you can already tell that you’re different from the girls at Goodman,” Brett said, studying her. “And I mean that in the best way possible.”
“They just haven’t been exposed to much outside their little bubble.” Courtney gazed out at the lake—anything to keep her from getting lost in Brett’s forest-green eyes. Even if they weren’t together, they could be friends, right? She just needed to get her heart in tune with her brain. Which would be easier if it would stop racing every time he looked at her. “But I’m going to the first Habitat meeting tomorrow during lunch block. Maybe I’ll meet people I have more in common with there.”
“You might.” Brett nodded and took a bite of his sandwich. “I’ve never done Habitat, so I wouldn’t know.”
“I’m excited to find out what it’s about,” she said. “But I still don’t understand why Adrian and your mom didn’t want me working at the coffee shop at the Diamond. I thought they would be proud that I wanted to work.”
“I understand why you’d think that.” Brett scratched his head, as if figuring out where to begin. “But school is your job. Getting into a top college like Stanford or one of the Ivies takes more than good grades and a great SAT score. Everyone applying has those, so colleges want to see dedication and leadership in other areas, too. Were you part of any clubs at your old school, did you play sports, or were you involved in the theater?”
“I tutored once a week at the student tutoring center, and I’m going to the first student tutoring meeting after school today.” Courtney’s cheeks heated, and she broke off a piece of her sandwich. “I had to keep my grades up while working as many hours as I could to help out my family. I didn’t have time for anything else.”
“I get that.” Brett placed his hand over hers, the heat from his skin sending electricity through Courtney’s body. Her breathing slowed, her head spinning from his touch.
It took everything in her to pull away, and she sipped her water, as if it could wash away her feelings for him. It was unfair and unkind to lead him on when they couldn’t be together.
Pain flashed across his face—she hated knowing that she’d hurt him. But it was gone a second later, and he continued with what he was saying, as if that moment had never happened.
“I know you could have written an essay about your situation that would have blown the admission councils away,” he said. “But you’re not in that position anymore. Now you’re attending one of the most elite private schools in the state, and you’ll be competing to get into the top colleges against students who go to similar schools all over the country. Out of the last graduating class from Goodman, twenty percent of the students went to Ivies, fifty percent went to top-tier schools that are almost as competitive, and the rest went to other selective schools. Adrian and my mom want you to be prepared.”
“That makes sense,” Courtney said, although it was a lot to take in. At least this conversation was keeping her thoughts away from how much she wanted Brett to put his hand on hers again, or how every glance at his lips made her flash back to when he’d kissed her at the grand opening. And how much she wanted him to kiss her again. “But I can’t imagine those girls who were gossiping about parties and fashion going to Ivy league schools.”
“They’re shallow,” Brett said. “But they’re not stupid. They get good grades, and their parents will either donate to the college they want their kid to get into—like Adrian did for Goodman—or hire ‘college admission strategists’ to boost their applications and give them a better chance at being accepted to top schools.”
The reminder of how Adrian had bought her and her sisters into Goodman by funding the new sports center made Courtney sad at the unfairness of it all. “What’s a ‘college admission strategist’?”
“What it sounds like,” Brett said. “Someone who knows what colleges want and will sit down with a student and his or her parents, analyze the student’s academic history and strategize how to create the most successful application possible. For a few grand, of course.”
“And then that student has a better chance at getting into the school they want over someone who can’t afford a strategist.” Courtney shook her head. “That’s not fair, is it?”
“It’s not fair, but it’s reality.” He shrugged. “I’m not the biggest fan of everyone at Goodman myself, but not everyone here is shallow. You’ll find your place.”
Courtney wished she could feel as confident about that as he sounded. “I’m starting to understand why you liked your public school better.”
“I preferred the people at my old school,” Brett corrected her. “The teachers at Goodman are fantastic—they love what they do—and the classes are better, because they’re smaller and discussion-based. Plus, I want to go to UCLA for their film program. If a college admissions strategist can help me get there, even though you’re right that the system isn’t fair, I can’t turn the opportunity down. Wouldn’t you do anything to get into Stanford?”
“I think so,” Courtney said, although the realization that she would probably give in to such an unfair system made her stomach sink. “Sometimes it’s hard to believe this is all happening. I always wanted to go to Stanford, but deep down I knew it wouldn’t be possible.”
“What do you mean?” He looked as if he genuinely cared about her response. She loved the way Brett listened because he wanted to hear what she had to say, and not because he was just waiting for his next opportunity to speak. It made him different from most people she knew. “Why didn’t you think it would be possible?”
“Because if I left, who would take care of my mom and Savannah?” she said. “I probably would have ended up at the local community college so I could live at home and continue helping out. But now, to be talking about Stanford like it’s a real possibility…. can’t wrap my head around the opportunities I have now and what it means for my future.”
Diamonds in the Rough Page 3