St Mary's Academy Series Box Set 1

by Seven Steps

  I rub my hands together and blow into them.

  “Sophia, I think we should go.”

  She looks at me as if I’m a crazy person. “Why?”

  “Because we’re two teenage girls in a bad neighborhood in the middle of the night. What if someone attacks us? Plus, it’s freezing out here! How are you not cold? You’re not even wearing pants.”

  “Ariel, chill out. No one is even around.”

  “I’m going to wait in the car.”

  I turn on my heels and march toward the car, determined to lead our escape, when the door creaks open.

  “What took you so long?” Sophia asks. “We’re freezing our butts off out here.”

  A male voice I don’t recognize replies, “Sorry. I had to take a leak.”

  A slice of yellow light pulls my attention from the car, and I turn toward the open door. Brightness and warmth beckon me inside. Music echoes through the street.

  Man, that’s some soundproofing.

  “Still want to leave?” Sophia asks.

  She steps through the door, and I quickly follow her inside.

  16

  It’s like walking into another world.

  Neon, glow in the dark paint covers every inch of skin. Girls walk around with red solo cups and light-up ribbons braided into their hair. It all looks so exciting I can’t wait to strip down to my bikini and join the mass of bodies that are rhythmically rocking to the beat, as if they’re performing some ancient, tribal dance.

  “Look!” Sophia squeezes my hand, then raises our joined palms toward the far corner of the room.

  I look to where she’s pointing.

  Steam rises from a giant heated pool that’s covered in the same neon paint as everything else.

  A glow in the dark, heated pool? Count me in.

  We drop off the car keys to the valet—so that’s where all the cars are—and strip off our clothes and hand them to the girl behind a long white desk. She jams them in one cubby and paints the number fourteen on each of our hands. I hope the paint is waterproof because I’ll be getting wet tonight.

  Or this morning.

  Whatever.

  “Body painting is over there!” the girl hollers, pointing to a row of chairs to our right.

  We thank her and walk over, grabbing water from the bar as we pass.

  I sit in an empty lawn chair, and a guy who looks to be my age—and super cute—spends ten minutes painting my body with green, orange, and blue paint. I don’t have a whole lot of experience with guys, so to have one stroking a paint brush across my skin is awkward. Really awkward. So awkward that each time the brush touches my skin I grip the chair beneath me as if I’m going to slide off at any second. The brush is ticklish, but I’m so freaked out I can’t even bring myself to laugh.

  When he’s done, the room feels ten degrees hotter and my body is covered in sticky paint.

  “All set,” he says, gesturing to a full-length mirror behind my chair.

  I stand and examine myself. He’s drawn swirling blue lines around my eyes and cheeks. More white and blue swirls along my collarbone, and large red, yellow, and green fish swimming on a blue background on my stomach.

  It’s amazing. In fifteen minutes, he’s made my body look like the ocean.

  Very cool.

  “Thank you so much,” I say, running my fingers along the quickly drying paint.

  “It fits you,” he replies. “You’re on the swim team, right?”

  I look at him in the mirror. “I was.”

  “Oh.” He clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry. Well, it still fits you. The blue and your hair and, uh…” He clears his throat in a nervous sort of way.

  It’s actually pretty cute.

  “I’m Ollie,” he says.

  The name doesn’t ring a bell, nor does his face. But if he knows I’m on the swim team, then I figure he must go to my school.

  “Ariel,” I reply.

  “Pleased to meet you, Ariel. You know, we might have a mutual acquaintance. Do you know Jasmine?”

  “Jasmine Patel?”

  His face relaxes a little, and he nods. “Yeah.”

  “Yeah. I know her.”

  Jasmine and I are on shaky ground. She hasn’t participated in Belle and Cole’s little charade, but she did stick by them afterward. I’m not sure what I think of her now.

  “We’re lab partners in chemistry,” he says. “She’s pretty cool.”

  He says cool in a very tender way. Like cool is code for beautiful or something. Is this guy interested in Jasmine?

  Since Jasmine and I are still technically friends, I decide it’s my duty to push the issue, just in case.

  “Cool as in fun, or cool as in…”

  He looks away from me and lets out a huff of air. It’s adorable.

  Does he like Jasmine? If so, he must not know her very well. Jasmine doesn’t date high school guys. She prefers guys in college, all beneath her parents’ radar, of course. This guy is really cute, though, with his olive skin, dark hair, and full lips. And his eyes are super dark. Like ink black. They’re so dark, a girl could get lost in them if she isn’t careful. Hmm… I wonder if Jasmine would make an exception for him.

  “I… uh…”

  Sophia grabs my hand, pulling my attention from the nervous looking Ollie. Her paint makes her look like a warrior, with sharp diagonal lines, triangles, and stick people around her belly button.

  Her hand feels warm in mine.

  “I’m ready to dance and kiss boys. Let’s go!”

  I wave goodbye to a now disappointed looking Ollie and follow Sophia through the crowd.

  “Oh my God, it’s like a spa day with paint,” Sophia says. “So relaxing! We should do this more often.”

  “Definitely.”

  The song changes to one of my favorites.

  “Oh, I love this song!” I practically throw my bottle of water onto a nearby table and drag Sophia to the middle of the dance floor where we blend into the glowing bodies that move to the beat like a sparkle of fireflies.

  I feel so wild.

  So raw.

  So free.

  I throw my head back and move my hips from side to side, never wanting the music to end.

  For a while, Sophia and I just hang out on the dance floor. We laugh until our sides hurt and dance like it’s the last thing we’ll ever do.

  Like I said.

  Fun.

  Then, two hands touch my shoulders from behind, pulling me out of my revelry.

  “Hey.”

  The voice sounds familiar, and I turn around. Michael is standing behind me, a huge grin on his face.

  “Hey!”

  I shift awkwardly, trying to decide whether to wave, shake his hand, or hug him. I go with the wave.

  To be honest, I thought I’d be happier to see Michael, but now I’m feeling conflicted. It was fun hanging out with Sophia, and not thinking about if my hair looked weird or if my breath smelled bad.

  Now that Michael is here, those thoughts resurface. Does my hair look weird and puffy in the humid room? Does my breath smell bad? Does he like my paint?

  Why do boys make everything so complicated?

  “You made it,” I say, trying to sound excited.

  “Yeah. I said I would.” He steps closer to me, ducking his head so he can yell in my ear over the loud music. “I’m glad I found you, Ariel.”

  That makes me smile. Maybe this won’t be so awkward after all?

  “Me too.”

  His fingers drop from my shoulders to my hands, and we sway to the music together. We’re moving too slow for such an upbeat song. I try not to get too irritated at this—I really do want to dance—but it’s hard not to feel like Michael has intruded on my good time.

  Remember why you’re here, I tell myself.

  I change my focus from his slow, heavy steps, to his warm, strong hands. His hair is soaked in green paint and smoothed back, putting his handsome features on display.


  He leans forward until his lips are almost touching my earlobe.

  “Do you live nearby?” He leans back, and I realize it’s now my turn to lean forward. He’s tall and I have to stand on my tiptoes to reach his ear.

  “No. I live close to the school. You?”

  He leans in. It’s like our own private dance.

  “Not too far from here. We’re in Jackson Heights.”

  I don’t know why that surprises me. The students at St. Mary’s are rich, not the teachers. But how can he afford to go to our school on his dad’s salary? Maybe he’s in some sort of scholarship program?

  “Our apartment sucks compared to my house in Cali,” he continues. One hand moves to my lower back. “But there are some things I like better.”

  He stares at me, letting me know I’m the ‘some things.’ My cheeks warm.

  Michael seems so genuine. So honest. I can almost overlook the slow dancing part. I bite my lower lip, not knowing what to say next. He smiles at me, not seeming to mind. After a few beats, he turns me around and leans close, positioning us with my back to his chest.

  “Back home, we had parties like this all the time, only ours were in real caves. You should come back with me one day. You’ll love it.”

  I want to turn around and tell him that my sister, Arista, lives in California and that I’ve visited her a bunch of times, but I don’t get the opportunity.

  “We should go in the pool after this,” he says. “You must miss the water now that you’re not on the team anymore. Maybe we can have a friendly race? I probably won’t beat you with this messed up leg, but it will still be fun.”

  I nod, though I doubt he sees it since I’m facing away from him.

  In this new position, I find myself searching for Sophia while Michael whispers in my ear about Coronado Beach in California.

  “It’s my favorite. Have you been there before?”

  “Not recently,” I reply.

  We had a private beach behind our vacation house in California, so we didn’t really go to the public ones. But I can’t say that without sounding like a stuck-up rich girl, so I keep it to myself.

  “I’ll take you one day,” he says. “We can jet ski. The water is beautiful out there. The most beautiful water in the world.”

  I wonder what he’d think if he saw Rio da Prata in Brazil. We scuba dived there once. The water was so clear I could see straight down to the bottom. It felt more like flying than swimming.

  “I’d like that,” I reply.

  I scan the corner of the room, still looking for Sophia, and instead I see two figures I’d recognize anywhere. A tall boy and girl with big, curly hair.

  Bella and Cole. They’re walking around the perimeter of the room, adding body paint to the shyer teens who lean against the walls and beckoning them to dance.

  Figures. Bella always had a soft spot for kids who felt invisible. Who didn’t belong. In another life, I would have been beside them, helping her and Cole. But that life is over now.

  The song ends, and another one begins. Someone pushes through the crowd toward me. When they get close enough, I recognize Sophia.

  Finally!

  She’s dragging a boy I don’t recognize behind her. So that’s where she’s snuck off to. When she gets close enough, she leans into me and shouts in my ear, “Want to head to the pool?”

  She smells like beer. I hope she didn’t drink too much. We still have to drive home tonight.

  “I just asked her the same question,” Michael shouts at her. “Let me just grab something to drink and we’ll all go.”

  “Okay,” Sophia shouts back, giving him a thumbs-up.

  I thought my ears are ringing from the music, but the shouting is ten times worse.

  Ugh.

  Michael squeezes my hand before letting go and disappearing into the crowd.

  I turn around and find Sophia nearly shaking with excitement.

  “He’s totally hooked.”

  I shake my head.

  “He barely knows me.” Even while I’m yelling, I can tell I’m not hiding my disappointment well. I have to admit, I thought I’d see Michael tonight and sparks would fly. So far, I’ve just been irritated with him, and that isn’t fair. He hasn’t done anything wrong.

  “Sometimes, all it takes is a look,” Sophia says. “Isn’t that what happened between you and Eric? Instant attraction?”

  I nod tightly.

  Eric. Just hearing his name makes me feel guilty. Like I’m doing something wrong. But I’m not doing anything wrong. Eric and I have broken up and he has a girlfriend now. That means I’m free to do what I want. Eric has no effect on me whatsoever. Not anymore.

  Right?

  Sophia waves in the direction Michael has disappeared to.

  “You better tie him down quick. If not, there are going to be a million other girls coming at him, and I don’t think we can hold off more than four between us.”

  “Three for me and one for you?”

  “Exactly.”

  We giggle, and I finally notice the guy Sophia has dragged over.

  He’s tall. Really tall, but handsome. He looks out over the crowd and bounces a little. He doesn’t introduce himself, and Sophia doesn’t bother either. I doubt they’ll remember each other tomorrow.

  Michael returns, drink in hand.

  Has he asked me if I wanted a drink? I don’t remember him asking me. He just said, I’m going to get a drink and left.

  Not that I want to be waited on hand and foot, but wasn’t it good manners to ask the people you are with if they wanted a drink when you’re going to get a drink?

  “Ready to go?” Michael takes my hand again. His is cold from holding whatever he’s drinking.

  Must be nice to have a cool drink, especially when you’ve been dancing all night.

  I shake off the thought, square my shoulders, and give him a big smile.

  “Sure. Lead the way.”

  We walk through the crowd and toward the ladder that leads up to the pool area. A glowing white platform encircles the blue, ceramic pool, complete with a diving board. Most of the swim team is already either sitting on the platform or in the water. When they see me, their squeals rise above the music.

  “Ariel!”

  My teammates surround me, jumping on my back and demanding to know when I’m going to come back.

  Of course, Claire is there, a fart ready for me. I didn’t know how much I missed those farts until just now.

  “Well, well, well, look who finally decided to show up. The quitter.”

  Vanessa and her two favorite sidekicks, Florence McKinsey and Janice Beecham, walk up to us, interrupting our reunion.

  Why did she have to be here?

  I step forward, my team tight behind me.

  “I’m not a quitter. My dad made me join a business class.”

  I don’t know why I’m explaining myself to Vanessa. She doesn’t deserve any answers from me.

  She looks at me with an evil grin.

  “Did he make you, or did you ask to?” she asks, her voice dripping with insinuation.

  “Like I said. He made me.”

  Her grin widens. “All the better. Now I have some new opponents to beat, including your friend Sophia. Did she tell you our new nickname for her?”

  I look at Sophia. Her mocha cheeks grow redder by the second, and her hands are balled into fist.

  “We call her a sloth. Isn’t it perfect?”

  Vanessa, Florence, and Janice cackle like the evil witches they are.

  Sophia lunges forward, but I grab her before she could tackle Vanessa into the pool.

  I look into her eyes. She’s angry and hurt.

  Emotions I know all too well.

  Maybe I should let Sophia pummel Vanessa, but it would only get Sophia thrown off the team, and I can’t let that happen. She’s worked hard all year. She deserves to be on the team more than anyone.

  “She’s not worth it,” I whisper to her. The steam from the pool w
raps around us like fog on a cold night. “She’s not worth anything.”

  Vanessa sneers. “Actually, I just signed a fifteen-million-dollar endorsement with Dannon Yogurt, so, technically, I’m worth a whole lot.”

  She high fives her two friends, then crosses her arms and waits for me to verbally battle her.

  But I’m not in the mood for talking.

  “Two laps in the pool. Now.”

  The team pauses, then cheers, rallying behind me.

  “What do I get when I win?” Vanessa asks.

  I consider this. I don’t want to bet too much, in case I don’t win. But, if I do win, I want it to be a sweet victory.

  I shrug, pretending not to care.

  “You pick,” I say.

  Vanessa speaks up immediately.

  “If I win, you have to say my chant until I tell you to stop.”

  Great. There’s nothing worse than that stupid Um-Ma chant she stole from her father.

  “And if I win?” I ask.

  “If you win, I’ll quit the team.”

  Everyone around the pool gasps.

  Vanessa looks back at her two supporters.

  “Um… she’s not going to win. That’s the point.”

  “Don’t count Ariel out just yet,” Sophia says. “She’s a better swimmer than you’ll ever be.”

  Vanessa rolls her eyes.

  “I’ll believe that when she has the Olympic rings tattooed on her hip.” She pulls down the edge of her swimsuit to show off her tattoo, as if we haven’t all seen it before.

  Her ego must have its own zip code.

  “You have a deal, Vanessa,” I say. “Be prepared to take up a new sport, because you’re going down.”

  My teammates cheer as I rush to the edge of the pool.

  Touch the wall twice. That’s all I’ll have to do. I’d just have to touch the wall twice.

  I dangle my toes off the edge of the platform and look over at Vanessa.

  She’s doing her typically Vanessa, pre-swim dance. Bouncing up and down on one leg, whispering.

  “All eyes on me.” Over and over again.

  Somebody needs to bring her down a peg. That someone is going to be me.

  Sophia steps forward, apparently choosing to call the race.

  “Ready. Set. Go.”