Charity: Black Mountain Academy/Fortuity

by Rochelle Paige

  When William had mentioned getting the vehicle from the dealership, I hadn’t been expecting it to be the newest model available. I probably should have, though. The Jeep came with all the bells and whistles, and as I climbed inside, I let out a long whistle. It was a damn shame I didn’t have time to take the top off since the weather was great, but I promised myself that I’d take care of that task after practice. I was looking forward to driving to school tomorrow without the hard top or doors.

  Rolling down the driver’s and passenger side windows, my grin was fucking huge as I turned onto the street in front of the house. The window blew around me, and the fifteen-minute drive was fantastic. I felt freer than I had in a long time. Even my first day at a new school couldn’t touch the high I had when I got there. After pulling into the parking lot and finding an open spot, I scanned the groups of kids hanging out in front of the school. I hadn’t expected it to be so crowded this early, but a ton of people were already here.

  Most of the clusters were girls, and they sure as fuck made the most of their uniforms. Skirts were hiked up past where the rules allowed, and shirts had several buttons undone at the top and the bottom tied off above their belly buttons. My guess was they’d cover up more before heading into the school since their clothes clearly violated the dress code with the way they were now.

  The guys hanging out were much more casual, leaning against the building or circled around a car here and there in the parking lot. They didn’t pay me much attention as I strode from my spot to the front entrance, but I attracted a lot of stares from the girls. It was flattering as fuck, but the last thing I needed was some pampered princess distracting me from my goal. Being a notch in some rich girl’s bedpost because she wanted a walk on the wild side with a guy from the wrong side of the tracks wasn't worth risking my hockey career.

  3

  Emmeline

  “Thanks for the ride.” I flashed our chauffeur, Edwin, a grin over my shoulder after climbing out of the passenger seat of the Bentley. It would have driven my mother up the wall to know that I didn’t ride in the back, but she was never up to see me off to school, so there was little chance of her finding out. There were only so many ways for me to rebel against her, and I enjoyed the small wins where I could find them.

  Edwin returned my smile and inclined his head. “I’ll see you after school, Miss Cushing.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you to use my first name?” I sighed, shaking my head.

  He winked at me, his grin widening. “I can’t run the risk of slipping in front of Mrs. Cushing.”

  “Yeah, that’s understandable,” I huffed before shutting the car door and turning to walk inside the school. I ignored the catty whispers from the cliques I passed along the way, internally rolling my eyes at how most of them were done up as though attending a debutante ball—with hair extensions, fake lashes, hundreds of dollars of cosmetics slathered on their faces, and thousands in sparkling jewelry in their ears and on their necks and wrists. There wasn’t much they could do about the uniforms because BMA was pretty strict about what we wore on campus, but they found ways to show as much skin as possible before they walked through the doors of the school.

  My best friends would wait until the last minute to head inside, so I didn’t bother searching for them before I went into the front office. “Hey, Ms. Jansen.”

  The woman who usually manned the desk and phones looked up from the computer and smiled at me. “Good morning, Emmeline. Are you all ready for the new school year?”

  “Yup.” I nodded as I walked to stand in front of her on the other side of the long counter. “My schedule is great, and I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Of course, it’s great.” Ms. Jansen pointed at the glass case on the wall to my left, where the school posted the lists for perfect attendance and honor roll. My name was on both and had been every semester I had been a student at BMA. “After all those dual enrollment courses you’ve taken, you only need a couple more classes to graduate.”

  Thinking about how light my schedule was this year, I grinned. “Which is why I’m the office aide during first period and have a study hall at the end of the day.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” She swiveled in her chair to grab a sheet of paper from the printer. “Your first task of the day is to show one of our new students where each of his classes are. He did a quick tour last month, but you know how difficult it can be to navigate our building when you’re unfamiliar with everything.”

  I glanced down at the paper after she handed it to me, and my breath caught in my throat when I recognized the name printed there—Corby King. Holy crap, I was going to spend the next half hour or so guiding my new hot neighbor around the school. My mind was further blown when I scanned down the list of his classes and realized I had two classes and lunch with him. We also had study hall together during last period, but most students used that as an early dismissal instead of staying on campus. I was going to be seeing a lot of him around school—and I wouldn’t even need to bring my binoculars.

  “Sorry to interrupt. I was told to come in early for another tour before classes started.”

  I whirled around at the sound of the deep voice, and an awkward laugh bubbled up my chest. Corby had no idea what I’d just been thinking, but my cheeks filled with heat as though he did. I went to wave at him in greeting, but I forgot I was holding the printout of his schedule and almost gave myself a paper cut on my nose. Luckily, his gaze was aimed at Ms. Jansen, so he didn’t catch how lame I was right off the bat.

  He was even hotter up close than he had been all those times I’d gawked at him as he ran past my house. His blond hair was a little on the longer side, and a lock had dropped onto his forehead. His eyes were crystal blue, and his skin was lightly tanned. The white material of his polo stretched tight across his broad shoulders, and his biceps bulged just below the short sleeves. He had a good eight or nine inches on me, and I kept casting glances up at him out of the corner of my eye, so he didn’t realize I was staring at him.

  “You must be Corby?” He nodded, and Ms. Jansen continued, “Emmeline is going to show you to each of your classes.”

  His blue eyes focused on me, and butterflies swirled in my belly. He gave me a head nod and said, “Hey.”

  “Hi.” Getting that one tiny word out was hard enough. I couldn’t imagine what I was going to say to him while we were walking around. Just the two of us. Dang, I really needed to pull myself together before I started to hyperventilate. “Um, we should go.”

  Corby opened the glass door and smiled. “After you.”

  “Thanks,” I whispered as I walked past, swooning inside over the chivalrous gesture. Turning to the right, we made it all the way to the door of his first class before I realized I hadn’t said anything else. After clearing my throat, I mumbled, “You ended up with a great teacher for American Lit. Mr. Miller is one of the best in the school. As long as you put in the effort and turn stuff in on time, you’ll probably get an A.”

  “That’s good to know.” After looking into the classroom, Corby pulled a map and pencil out of the pocket of his khaki pants and jotted a note on it. “One of my teammates told me which teachers to avoid so I wouldn’t end up with a shit schedule.”

  “Teammate?” I echoed softly as we headed to his next class.

  “Yeah, I play hockey.”

  I didn’t know much about hockey—or really any sport since I tended to avoid activities that made me sweat. But it was impossible to be a student at BMA and miss that we had a great team because they’d made it to the state championship game every year since I’d been here and had won twice. “Are you any good?”

  His lips curved up in a cocky grin. “Good enough that I was the MVP when my last team ended the Cougars’ hope of snagging the cup again last year.”

  That explained why the Whitneys had taken him into their home—he was the new star of our hockey team. William Whitney had played for BMA’s team when he went to school here
, and so had his father. He donated so much money to the team each year that the rink the Cougars played in was named after him. I could totally see him manipulating the foster system to get a hotshot player on our team so they didn’t lose the championship again this year. “I’ve never been to a game, but that sounds pretty impressive.”

  “You should come see us play at the start of next month,” he suggested with a grin that made my knees feel weak, which was really bad timing since we needed to head upstairs so I could show him where he needed to go for third period. “It’s our first game, and you’re the first student I’ve met who isn’t on the team. You can be the person there to cheer me on in the stands since I don’t know anyone else here.”

  “A month is an awfully long time. I’m sure you’ll have a whole fan club by then.” With his looks, it was practically guaranteed.

  A hint of pink tinged his cheeks as he shrugged. “I don’t know about that. Hockey wasn’t a big deal at my old school, and the stands were pretty empty besides the parents of my teammates.”

  “Even when you guys were playing for the championship?” I asked, pointing out his third-period classroom.

  He jotted another note on his map before answering. “We pulled in a slightly bigger crowd then, but it still wasn’t anything like how they pack them in at football games on Friday nights.”

  “Hmm.” I pressed my lips together, thinking about how I would feel about the lack of support if I were him as we walked down the hallway. “I guess I could come to your first game so there’s at least one friendly face rooting you on.”

  He held the stairway door open for me, grinning down at me. “Thanks. That would be cool of you.”

  I doubted he’d still think so if he ever found out how many times I had stared at him through a set of binoculars this summer, but I wasn’t silly enough to confess and ruin a good thing. Surprised by how comfortable I felt talking to him, I pointed out which classes we’d have together as I showed him the rooms for the rest of his schedule. We were back downstairs, standing in front of the office when the first bell went off and students started streaming into the building. “I guess that’s your cue to head off to American lit.”

  “Can I walk you to your first class?” He tilted his head to the side and grinned. “Or will I get all turned around and forget how to get to mine?”

  For the first time since I’d set my schedule for the year, I regretted starting my day as the office aide. Jerking my thumb over my shoulder, I replied, “You kind of already did.”

  “Ah, gotcha.” He took a couple of steps backward. “Thanks for showing me around.”

  “My pleasure.” The words were automatic since my mother had drilled them into my skull, but they were also one-hundred-percent true.

  The big smile on my face was wiped away when I stepped into the office and found two of the school’s queen bees peering through the glass door at Corby’s retreating form while they gossiped. “He’s so hot,” Staci sighed.

  Traci nudged her in the side with her elbow. “Yeah, we should totally suggest that we perform at some of the hockey games this year.”

  I snorted at the idea of the cheerleading team freezing their butts off in an ice rink, and the two skinny blondes both turned to glare at me. “What do you think is so funny?”

  “You didn’t think that just because he was stuck with you walking him around before class that he’d actually notice a little nobody like you, did you?” Traci scoffed before they burst into a fit of giggles at my expense.

  I ducked my head and hurried past them into the back of the office. I might not like Staci and Traci, but their mean girl act was the reminder I needed that I didn’t stand a chance of catching Corby’s attention. When he’d invited me to his game, I’d wondered if something could happen between us. For a moment, I’d forgotten the way things worked for me at Black Mountain Academy. I couldn’t let that happen again.

  4

  Corby

  My first few weeks at Black Mountain Academy flew by without any major issues. My teachers were mostly cool, the homework wasn’t too bad yet, and practices were going well. The only problem I had was that my attention kept drifting to the cute girl who’d shown me around the first morning, but she seemed to be avoiding me even though we had two periods and lunch together. I’d caught her looking at me more than a few times, but she’d quickly glanced away without returning my smile.

  I rarely saw her talking to any students other than the two girls she hung out with, so I wasn’t sure if she was just shy or if she wasn’t as into me as I’d thought that morning. Whatever the reason, the distance she’d put between us had only made me more curious about her. The longer she pretended to ignore me, the more it killed me to sit on the other side of the cafeteria during lunch without going over to ask her what was going on.

  I must not have been hiding my frustration with the situation as well as I’d thought I was because Chuck elbowed me in the side and asked, “You’re into Emmeline Cushing?”

  Dragging my gaze away from her, I nodded.

  He let out a long whistle. “You’d have to be hella brave to try something with her, man.”

  My gaze slid back to the pretty brunette sitting at a table all by herself. Her two friends had been with her when I’d walked into the cafeteria, but they’d left a few minutes ago. Nobody else had approached the table, and none of the hockey guys had so much as glanced over there until Chuck had noticed me looking at her. It was almost as though the three girls were invisible to anyone but me, which seemed impossible with how hot Emmeline was.

  “Dude, I wouldn’t go there if I were you.” He clapped me on the back and shook his head. “Nobody else at Black Mountain Academy has, and I haven’t heard any rumors about her dating anyone off campus, either.”

  “Why in the hell hasn’t some guy locked her down already?” It was the last thing I wanted to ask since the thought of some douche dating Emmeline made me want to punch the wall, which was crazy as fuck since I barely knew the girl.

  He set his half-eaten slice of pizza on the plate in front of him and shrugged. “I think it depends on who you ask. For some of the guys, it’s because she’s the kind of girl you’ll find yourself wifing up before you realize it’s happened. For others, they’re just into girls who’re willing to put out since you’d have to work hard to get in there with Emmeline. She’s pretty and sweet but also super fucking shy. It’d probably take a lot of effort just to get her to agree to a date. And then there are guys like Atticus Caswell who don’t have the balls to go after what they want when their mommy tells them to stay away from a girl, no matter how much he likes her.”

  I looked over my shoulder at a guy who looked as though he wouldn’t have a problem with tossing stacks of cash into a fireplace if he was cold. I could practically smell the wealth radiating off him from over here—which was saying a lot, considering I was surrounded by guys who’d grown up with silver spoons in their mouths. He was seated a few tables down, and now that Chuck had pointed him out to me, I realized he was sneaking looks at Emmeline.

  Ignoring the other shit he’d said, I focused on the one thing that had the potential to get in my way. “He likes Emmeline?”

  “Yeah, but you don’t need to worry about him asking her out or anything,” he assured me.

  I slid another look at Atticus. “Just because his mom doesn’t approve?”

  “Yeah, he can’t access his trust until he turns twenty-one, and his mom controls the purse strings until then,” he explained.

  “I don’t get it.” I shook my head, my brow wrinkling. “Emmeline comes from money. From what I can tell, she’s pretty, smart, and kind. Isn’t she exactly the kind of girl a trust fund kid’s mom would want him to date?”

  “Normally, yes,” Chuck agreed. I was even more confused until he added, “But his mom doesn’t want to run the risk of Emmeline’s mother getting her claws into their family.”

  “What’s up with her mom?” I asked, sending another g
lance Emmeline’s way and grinning when I caught her looking right at me again.

  “She takes social climbing to the extreme.” He lifted his hand and rubbed his fingers against the pad of his thumb. “If Emmeline started dating a guy who came from one of the big families in Black Mountain like the Caswells, I wouldn’t put it past Mrs. Cushing to give Emmeline a box of condoms with holes poked in them. The woman is a world-class user. All she sees in people is what they can do for her or even her daughter. Being the baby daddy for her grandchild would fucking suck.”

  The thought of one of the rich pricks I went to school with having sex with Emmeline, let alone knocking her up, made my blood boil. Chuck’s explanation sounded lame as fuck to me, but I wasn’t going to try to explain to him how ridiculous their logic was. The last thing I wanted was to give one of the guys a reason to make a move on the only girl at BMA who I was interested in. The idea of some dude named Atticus swooping in and claiming her lit a fire in my veins.

  Nothing Chuck had said lessened my attraction for Emmeline. Her mom sounded awful, but I wasn’t going to judge someone based on their parents. And it wasn’t as though I had an inheritance that would make her mother want to push us together. If anything, she’d probably be pissed as fuck if her daughter got involved with a guy like me. I didn’t even have enough money to hold the social ladder she wanted to climb so badly.

  “I feel kind of bad for her. She’s a nice girl and doesn’t really deserve the crap some of the popular crowd shovel her way.” He looked over at a table of cheerleaders who had been a pain in my ass more times than I could count over the past week. They were the kind of girls I was determined to avoid because they acted as though the world revolved around them. I’d barely said two words to anyone in the bunch, but a few seemed determined as fuck to get me to bang them. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had a bet of some kind on who bagged one of the new guys first. They sure as shit didn’t give a damn about me as a person.