St Mary's Academy Series Box Set 1

by Seven Steps

  Eric stands up and marches for the door. On any other day, he would stay back and try to talk to me. This time, his long, angry strides carry him away so fast I barely have time to stuff my notebook into my bag and chase after him.

  “Wait up.” I pant, jogging to his side.

  His eyes remain on the door leading to the outside. My chest tightens. My stomach knots. I’ve never seen him so angry.

  “Eric.” I put a hand on his bicep, and he jerks his head toward me. His eyes flash so hot I think laser beams might come out of them.

  “What?” he barks.

  I keep my gaze fixed on his. I don’t move my hand from him and he doesn’t jerk his arm away from my touch.

  “What happened? Why aren’t you at football practice?”

  His gaze slides from mine, focusing on somewhere over my shoulder. His jaw tightens, draining the blood from his chin. Sprouts of hair grow there, twisting into tight curls, making a faint path to his upper lip.

  A powerful flashback of his unshaven upper lip cascading across my neck pops into my mind. Goose bumps shoot across my shoulders and down my back. I shake my head against the memory of him. Of us.

  I take a step back, releasing his arm and shoving my hand into my coat pocket.

  He has someone new now. His lips are no longer mine to think about.

  “Your dad spoke to my company’s board of directors,” he says. “They thought it would improve my image if I was attached to these new business courses. They said it would look like I was taking an interest in the company I’d run someday.” His hot gaze slides back to mine. “Alfred agreed, and now here I am. No more football and more homework. Tell your dad thanks for me.”

  He starts to walk away, but I pull him back, ignoring the way my fingers heat where they touch his skin.

  “Look, I don’t want to be here any more than you do. But, now that you’re here, maybe we can put our heads together and find a way out of this class.”

  “There’s no way out of this class,” Eric says. “We have to finish the semester.”

  “Why? What’s the worst that could happen if we ditched? We fail. So what?”

  His brows knit together, like I’ve just asked him a stupid question.

  “Didn’t your dad tell you? If we pass this class, they’re going to open up the same program in schools across the country, public and private. That means millions of kids will have an opportunity to learn about business from the puppet masters themselves. Plus, it’s going to count toward college credit. We have to pass this course. A lot of people are going to be disappointed and embarrassed if we don’t.”

  I throw my hands in the air.

  “Great. Now you sound like my dad.”

  “Look, Red, I know you miss swimming, and I get it. I miss football too. And it sucks. But some things are bigger than we are. This is one of those things.”

  I swallow, not wanting to believe him. This course is my father’s dream. Not mine. He has no right to put this kind of pressure on me without even consulting me. Why would he choose me to be the poster child for a business program? What about my dreams? What about the things that are important to me?

  “Red—”

  “Look, if you want to go all business on me, then go right ahead. I’ll find a way to get out of this class on my own.”

  I jog away from him before he can say anything else.

  If Eric won’t help me, then I’ll help myself. I probably shouldn’t have asked him anyway. Eric has moved on with little Miss Pale Skin.

  I decide then and there I’m officially done with him. I’m done with the echoes of us that play in my memory. Done with the way his voice makes me shiver. Done with the way my heart breaks whenever he’s near me.

  It’s time for me to follow Eric’s lead and move on to someone new.

  Sophia waits for me by her car. Michael leans against the door in a dark blue hoodie, jeans, and sneakers. He still isn’t wearing a coat. He spots me and waves. I wave back.

  Yes, I’m going to move on, starting right now.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I say, hopping into the back seat.

  “What happened?” Sophia asks. “You look whiter than usual.”

  “I’m just cold,” I say, rubbing my hands together.

  Michael climbs into the back seat next to me. I can feel the cold on his clothes through my coat. He takes both of my hands in his.

  “You feel warm to me,” he says, his smile widening.

  My hands are cold, but his are frigid. I shake the urge to snatch my hands away. Instead, I allow myself to freeze. At least I get to look into his gorgeous eyes a little while longer.

  A blast of cold air on my calves makes me jump.

  “Heat’s on,” Sophia says. “And we’re out.”

  “Where are we headed?” I ask.

  “Where else? We’re going to get our new friend a coat before he turns into an ice pop.”

  12

  Sophia, Michael, and I walk around the men’s coat section of the Old Navy near Times Square.

  Michael insisted on this store, instead of one of the more expensive shops on Madison Avenue. It’s weird, watching him go through coats that cost less than my last hair appointment. But I don’t mention it. Instead, I sit back and admire the way the different coats and sweaters stretch over his broad shoulders and muscled chest.

  “How about this one?” He pulls on a coat that perfectly matches his hazel eyes.

  I take a step forward and run my fingertips over the cool, smooth, waterproof outer layer. A yellow insignia is sewn on the left side, right over his heart, as well as on his upper right arm. It looks warm. There’s fleece on the inside and fur around the hood.

  “It looks great on you.” Great is an understatement. It hugs his slim but strong form and emphasizes his muscled arms. Michael has the type of body that makes any piece of clothing look amazing.

  “Thanks. And thanks for coming with me,” he says. “I’m not very good at picking out winter clothes.”

  “No use for them in California, huh?”

  He shakes his head.

  “No.”

  “Do you miss it?” I ask.

  He looks at the floor and shrugs his shoulders.

  “I miss my friends. The sun. Surfing. Hiking.” He pauses and shifts the weight on his feet. “It was hard leaving everything behind.” He slowly looks up, then studies my face. “I hope I can make some new friends here. It would help make New York feel more like home.”

  The way he says friends makes my chest tight, and I nervously lean on one hip.

  “Well, Michael Fish. Consider me your first friend.”

  A smile lights up his face again. They should really patent that smile. Study it. It would be great for jump starting hearts. Hospitals across the country could throw away their defibrillators. Who needs them when Michael Fish’s smile could bring any heart back to life?

  He holds out his hand, and I shake it.

  “Hopefully, not for too long,” he whispers.

  I giggle. Like, really giggle. I feel like an idiot, but I can’t help it. He’s so cute and so close.

  Embarrassed and red-faced, I cover my mouth with my hands. Michael reaches up and pulls my hands from my face, laughing a little himself.

  “Don’t cover up that pretty smile, Ariel. The entire world should see it.”

  And there I am again. Giggling with my face red like a burnt tomato while Michael holds my hands in his, laughing softly and looking at me with those beautiful eyes.

  A girl could get used to this.

  “Oohh. Should I give you guys a minute?” Sophia stands behind me, with what I’m sure is a grin of her own.

  Michael lets go of my hand, and I turn around.

  She raises one eyebrow, and I clear my throat.

  “We were just finishing up.” I turn back to Michael. “Right?”

  He pulls off his coat and drapes it over one arm.

  “Yeah, just finishing up.”

  S
ophia pops her gum and looks at me the way a trainer would look at a pack of well-trained dogs. It suddenly hits me. She’s orchestrated this entire trip. From Michael and me sitting in the back seat of her car, to us shopping for a coat together.

  She’s an evil genius. I’ll have to remember to give her a hug later.

  “Great. Let’s cash out and get home. My mom’s going to freak if I’m not back soon.”

  She turns and walks in front of me.

  When did she ask Michael to come out with us? Was it at swim practice or another time? Either way, I’ll have to tell her what an amazing friend she is when we’re alone again.

  Michael checks out at the register and wears his new coat outside. He brings Sophia and me hot chocolates before we find the car and begin the traffic-filled drive home.

  “So, I have some good news,” she says. Michael and I are again seated next to each other in the back seat, sipping our hot chocolates. Sophia peeks at us from the rearview window.

  “Spill,” I say.

  “Ronnie Garrison is having one of his famous parties tonight.”

  This I know. She talked about it earlier when she was grinding on me in the hallway.

  “I know. You’re going, right?”

  “Not just me. I scored a second invitation.”

  I nearly spit out my hot chocolate. Some of it dribbles down my chin as I choke it down.

  “No way!”

  “Yes way!”

  My entire body floods with a mixture of shock and delight.

  “Who’s Ronnie Garrison?” Michael asks, sitting forward in his chair.

  “Only the coolest DJs in the history of St. Mary’s Academy!” Sophia says.

  Ronnie Garrison’s parties are legendary. He always has a cool theme. One year, he had caged animals roaming around. Another, the entire party took place in a scuba tank.

  “Please tell me you’re coming,” Sophia pleads. “I can’t go without you.”

  I wipe the hot chocolate from my chin.

  “Of course I’ll be there. What time?”

  “Midnight.”

  “Done.”

  If Daddy or Duckie knew I was planning to sneak out at midnight, they’d never let me out of their sight again. But what else can they take away from me? They’ve already taken away swim and stuck me in a boring class. If I’m going to get in trouble for something, it may as well be for going to a party like Ronnie Garrison’s.

  “What’s the theme?” I ask.

  “Glow. The invitation just says to wear a white bikini.”

  I smile. “That I can do.”

  “This party sounds like a pretty big deal,” Michael says, a slow smile spreading across his face. “And now that I know you’ll be there in a bikini, I’ll have to wrangle myself an invitation.”

  Sophia chirps, while my cheeks grow hot. But I’m feeling bold today.

  After all, I’m a girl with nothing left to lose. And let’s face it. Michael is hot.

  “I guess you will,” I say with what I hope is a sexy grin.

  His head tips sideways. He looks at me like a cat looks at a bowl of new food.

  Hungrily.

  “You’re all done with swim?” he asks.

  I nod.

  “That sucks. How can we be FFNs if we never see each other?”

  “FFNs?” I ask.

  “Friends.” He drops his head and his voice. “For now.”

  My cheeks heat up, and I’m sure I’m grinning like an idiot.

  Sophia’s smiling eyes are watching me from the front seat.

  I like that.

  FFN.

  Friends for now.

  I’d like to be Michael’s friend.

  For now.

  13

  After I finish my homework and dinner is over, I sit in the living room, working on the headbands for Adella and Alana’s party. Dell is attaching some beading to a green skirt, while Alana is stitching the hem of her pink skirt.

  “You should totally make everyone dress in an eighties costume,” I say. “Retro parties are fun.”

  Alana makes a face as if I told her to wash herself in cat puke. I love her, but she’s definitely the brattier of the two.

  “If everyone dresses like us, we won’t stand out. That’s the whole point. For us to stand out.”

  I shrug. “Just a suggestion.”

  Alana is quiet for a moment. “You don’t think these dresses are stupid, do you?”

  I look up at my sister and offer her a supportive smile. “I think they’re fantastic. And perfect for the Stamford Club.”

  Dell closes one eye and sticks out her tongue as she puts green thread through the eye of a needle.

  Alana turns toward me. “Do you know what everyone calls us? Ariel’s sisters. Do you know how embarrassing it is to not even have a name? To just be The Twins or Ariel’s sisters?”

  Alana’s face softens, and for the first time, I recognize her need to stand apart from her sisters and just be herself. It’s a need I face every day. All kids do. Being a teenager means toeing the fine line between standing out and fitting in. I can see that Alana is still searching for her place.

  I put my headband down, walk over, and pull her into standing position. Her mouth is poised to say something about how weird I’m being. Before she can get a word out, I put my hands to her cheeks and squeeze them until she resembles a fish with pink glasses.

  “You are Alana Swimworthy. I know your name. And after this party everyone else will know your name too. You’re more than just a twin or my sister. Much more. Remember that.”

  Alana looks at me for a long time before she throws her arms around my neck and holds me tight.

  “You’re the first person to tell me that.” She wets my shirt with her tears.

  I hug her back and smooth down her hair. “I won’t be the last.”

  We hug for what seems like an eternity until Dell’s fake gagging breaks up our special moment.

  “We’ll be going to the party with half sewn dresses if you two don’t get to work.”

  Alana’s head snaps to her sister’s, fire and fury in her eyes.

  “You’re a heartless witch.”

  “Just like you.”

  I manage to stop Alana from lunging at her sister, and, after several minutes of negotiations, I finally get the two girls together to finish their sewing.

  It only costs me the promise of an evening giving them pedicures.

  I shake my head. The things I do for family.

  “Do you want us to do your nails?” Dell asks.

  I shake my head.

  “Nah. They chip,” I reply, picking up my sewing again.

  “You used to paint your nails all the time.”

  “No, Bella used to paint my nails all the time.”

  I swallow. Bella. I haven’t said that name out loud in two months. Once, she was my best friend. Now, she’s just a girl I’m trying to forget, even though her apartment is only a few floors below mine.

  “Are you ever going to talk to her again?” Dell holds up the lime green skirt, checking her beads.

  “No.”

  “Like ever?”

  The needle pricks my fingertip. I yelp and shove my finger into my mouth.

  “Like ever,” I reply, my words muffled by my bloody hand.

  “Well, this is going to be awkward.”

  “What’s going to be awkward?”

  Dell swallows, then leans back against the couch. “Daddy invited Bella and her father to his party this weekend.”

  My hand freezes over the buttons. “He did what?”

  The girls look at each other, then at me.

  “He didn’t tell you?”

  I shake my head.

  Why does he insist on making my life miserable? Is it his plan to make me run away and never come back? Because if it is, I’ll be more than happy to oblige him.

  Dell and Alana look at each other, then back at me.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll keep you company, s
o you won’t have to talk to her,” Alana says.

  Dell nods. “Yeah, and maybe you can invite Sophia.”

  I growl.

  “No. I’ll deal with this on my own.”

  I hand Alana the headpiece and storm off to Daddy’s office. I march right inside, not bothering to knock.

  I can tell he’s rattled by the way he smooths back his long, gray hair and fumbles with the papers on his desk.

  “Young lady, in this house we knock before entering a room.”

  If he weren’t flustered, he might have bellowed that sentence. But he’s flustered, and so it comes out as stutters with no real power.

  I cross my arms over my chest and tip up my chin.

  “I’m here to ask you to uninvite Bella to your party on Saturday.”

  “Party? You make it sound like I’m some teenage rabble rouser.” He stands up and walks around his desk. “This is an investor’s dinner, and Bella’s father is an investor.”

  My brows furrow.

  “Investor? He works at the city stables.”

  “Every little bit helps. It seems he’s taken an interest in the Triton-Stonewall Business Academy. He’s even asked about Bella joining next year.”

  Eric was one thing. Bella joining the class would be just plain cruel.

  “Why does she have to come? Why can’t you just invite her father?”

  “It’s only the two of them. It would be bad manners not to invite her. After all, no matter what happened in the past, she and you were friends once. That friendship could only strengthen my—”

  “We’re not friends anymore. You know that. Everyone knows that. I hate her. You can’t invite her.”

  “I can and I have.”

  “Then uninvite her.”

  “Daughter, get a hold of yourself.” He steps toward me, and my eyes drill into his. If he thinks he can intimidate me with his size or his bellows, he’s wrong. “This is bigger than a high school squabble. You’ll entertain all of the teenagers while they’re here. Drum up an interest in the program. The more children on the waiting list, the better the program will look.”

  “I’m not your puppet to use when you feel like it.”

  “No, but you’re my daughter, and if I tell you to do something, you will do it.”

  I suck my teeth and turn away.