St Mary's Academy Series Box Set 1

by Seven Steps

Our eyes lock, and my heart pounds.

  Memories of us echo through my head. Eric and I laughing while we stood in front of the movie theater on Forty-Second Street. Eric and I eating tofu salad in Turtle and Shells, even though he wasn’t a vegetarian. Eric and I cutting school to walk through the Central Park zoo hand in hand.

  We’d only been together for a few weeks, but it felt like a lifetime.

  I guess when two people are really in love time passes differently. Slower. You savor moments you spend together.

  I sigh.

  Does he feel the same way I do? Does he see the same light in me I saw in him?

  Someone clears their throat, and I break my gaze from Eric’s. My eyes slide to Purity. She’s smiling like a goof.

  Is she getting some sort of sick joy out of watching me swoon over my ex, knowing full well I can’t have him?

  I mentally shake myself and grip the edge of the table.

  “Uh, did you want something, Eric?” Michael asks.

  I almost forgotten he’s here.

  Crap on a stick.

  Eric doesn’t miss a beat. He stares directly at me when he says, “Very, very much.”

  I can’t breathe. Oh, God, I can’t breathe.

  Then, he looks back at Michael as if he hasn’t just stolen the air from my lungs.

  “I just came over to let you know we’ll be leaving at six-thirty on Sunday. There’s this little place Ariel and I like. We’re going to stop there for breakfast.”

  “Good to know.”

  A small smile sits on Eric’s face, and he blinks at Michael as if he’s about to say something, but Eric’s gaze returns to me, and he stays silent.

  I can feel my cheeks flame.

  “So, you’re leaving then,” Michael asks.

  I can tell he’s getting fed up with our little show.

  Eric’s smile grows. My whole face feels like it’s on fire.

  “For now,” he says.

  “But before we go…” Purity reaches in her bag and pulls out a white envelope. She holds it in front of her so I can read the inscription.

  From: Mr. Triton Swimworthy.

  Is she coming to my father’s business dinner too? CCC-RRR-AAA-PPP. Why does my life have to suck so hard?

  “I just wanted to know what I should wear to your father’s dinner.” She looks like she’s about to burst from excitement. “I’m really looking forward to it. It will be my very first party in New York.”

  I paste a smile on my face to keep from banging my head against the table.

  “A cocktail dress should be fine,” I reply.

  “Great! My stepmother and I will be there right on time. It’ll be nice to see your home. Eric says it’s beautiful. Maybe one day we can have a sort of girls’ day. We can do pedicures, drink hot chocolate, and talk. What about Friday?”

  Sophia’s eyes dart from Purity to me.

  “Girl, you’re crazy,” she says loud enough for Purity to hear.

  Purity’s eyes widen, and she turns to Sophia. “Beg your pardon?”

  “You’re crazy. Who wants to get mani-pedis with their ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend? You’re acting like you’re sister wives or something. It’s weird.” Sophia leans forward until she’s practically nose to nose with Purity. “You’re weird.”

  Purity turns to me, her eyes losing much of their previous luster.

  “Ariel, I think you may be misunderstanding my purpose for coming here.”

  I roll my eyes and place my hands flat on the table.

  Purity has been nothing but sweet to me, but enough is enough. It’s time for this girl to leave me alone.

  I’ll have to let her down gently. Well, maybe I’ll drop her a little.

  “Look, Purity. I get it. You’re new here and you want to make friends. I get it. Really. I do. But I think I may be the wrong friend for you. For now, I think it may be best for you to stay with Bella and her friends.”

  She sucks in a breath full of embarrassment and indignation.

  Sorry, chick, but I’m all done.

  “Ariel—”

  “I don’t want to be your friend. I’ll never be your friend. Please, just go.”

  With a look that’s both horrified and confused, Purity slowly rises from the table and walks away.

  Eric closes his eyes and stands as well.

  From the corner of my eye, I see Michael wave smugly.

  “Weirdos huh?” he says. “Who wants to be friends with their ex’s new girlfriend? It’s creepy.”

  “Right?” Sophia says. “Isn’t she creepy?”

  “She’s really—”

  “Pale—”

  “And cheery.”

  “And pale.”

  Their words float around me as I stare at the table.

  Purity looked genuinely confused when she left. As if we were the rude ones for asking her to leave. Didn’t she understand how awkward she’d made things? Even if she didn’t, I’m sure Eric did. Why did he bring her over here? Why is she so dead set on being friends with me? What do they want from me?

  “Jeez, some guys just can’t take a hint, huh?” Michael says, taking a huge bite of his sandwich. “Now, where was I? Oh yeah, the seals.”

  His story carries on as if we were never interrupted, and I can’t help thinking he still hasn’t noticed my hair.

  28

  Sophia goes home early, but Michael’s driven his green jeep wrangler to school and he offered to take me home instead.

  This is a good thing.

  I want us to get along. I want us to have what Eric and I had. So far, we only seem to have three things in common: we’re attracted to each other, we both like swimming, and we both own a video game system. The last two items are shaky at best. But I’m not a quitter. I just need to give Michael a chance. He’s an only child, after all. He may not know the nuances of conversation like I do.

  Eric’s an only child too, the voice in my head says. I ignore it. This isn’t about my past. It’s about my future. And so, as we drive around New York in stop and go traffic, I direct all my attention to Michael.

  “So, what’s new?”

  Lame. Lame. Lame.

  “Since lunch?” he asks.

  “Yeah. I guess.”

  He shrugs, and I watch his face scrunch as he struggles to come up with something.

  “Oh. They had to drain the pool today.”

  “What? I didn’t hear that.”

  “Yup. Caught some Indian kid and this girl, I think her name was Carol or something, in there unsupervised. Vanessa said they drained it because the girl had herpes. Anyway, we spent the entire period in the weight room.”

  “Vanessa said that?”

  “Yeah. She’s a pretty cool girl once you get past the ego.”

  A small sound escapes my lips, and I stare at his profile.

  “So you’re hanging out with Vanessa now?”

  “Not so much. She’s going to get me tickets to her next event, though. Front row. It’ll be pretty sweet. She even said I could bring you if I wanted.”

  I’ll bet she did.

  “No. I think I’m good with that.”

  “Well, you don’t mind if I go, right?”

  His eyebrows rise at this question.

  “No. Not at all.”

  He lets out a breath and slides the car to a stop at a red light.

  “Good. I’m glad you’re not one of those girls who gets jealous if their boyfriend has girl friends. I mean, just because I’m hanging out doesn’t mean I’m with them, right?”

  I nod slowly. “Yeah. No, definitely.”

  “Exactly. See, Ariel, that’s why I like you. You’re open-minded. You’re not tied down by these societal rules about what you can and can’t do. That’s why we get along so well. People like you and me, we’re rebels. We go against the grain, you know.”

  What’s he talking about?

  “Right. Yeah. Rebels.”

  He laughs, accepting my meager offer of conversation.
r />   The light turns green and we drive again.

  “Did I ever tell you about the time we skateboarded over an aquarium tank? Man, we were rolling across, and we looked down and there was this huge killer whale looking back at us. Not killer as in awesome, but killer like an orca. I saw into its mouth and everything.”

  “Really? That must’ve been scary.”

  And stupid, and juvenile, and irresponsible.

  “What can I say? We’re daredevils. Like this one time my buddy dared me that I couldn’t climb a redwood. It was totally illegal but…”

  I turn my head and stare out of the window. Not that it stops him from talking. He just keeps right on recounting his glory days in California, barely asking me about myself or stopping long enough for me to comment on any of his adventures.

  I’m ready for this ride to be over.

  He turns a corner a couple of blocks from my apartment, and I sit up with a start.

  “Stop the car.”

  “What?”

  “Stop the car!”

  He yanks the wheel to the right and puts the car in park.

  “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  I don’t answer him. Instead, I jump out of the car and run across the street. Directly into my sister’s accounting firm, AS Accounting.

  I push the doors open and head to the fifteenth floor. While riding the elevator, I receive a text message from Michael.

  What was that about? Are you coming back? Are you okay?

  Okay? How can I be okay? Nothing is okay.

  Running an errand. Wait for me.

  The door to the elevator opens, and I walk into a waiting area. I’m greeted by a young, short-haired woman sitting behind a beautifully carved wooden desk. Her hair is so blond it’s almost white.

  “Hi,” I say.

  She looks up from her nails, seeming very unhappy to see me.

  “Hello.”

  “I’m looking for Du—uh, Aquata Swimworthy.”

  “She’s not in today. Would you like to leave a message?”

  Not in today? But she’s always at work. Where could she be?

  “Do you know when she’ll be in?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “I’m not sure.”

  I lean on the desk and keep my voice low.

  “Has she been in this week?”

  The woman narrows her gaze at me. “Are you a reporter?”

  “No. I’m her sister.”

  She looks me over, and a light seems to go off in her blond head.

  “Ms. Swimworthy hasn’t been in this week, nor last. The best way to reach her is by email. Do you have it?”

  I gasp.

  Duckie hasn’t been to work in two weeks? Why? She comes in at night in her work clothes. Where does she go all day?

  I wave the receptionist’s comment away.

  “No need. I’ll see her at home.”

  And when I do I’ll have some questions of my own.

  I head back to the elevators, texting Michael that I’m coming.

  Duckie hasn’t been at work. She’s been weird at home.

  What’s going on?

  I step off the elevator, walk outside, and slide into Michael’s car.

  “Hey,” he says.

  “Hey.”

  “You ran out of here in a hurry.”

  I give him what I hope is a grateful smile. “I had to go see my sister about something. Thanks for waiting, though.”

  He shakes his head. “Girls are weird.”

  He chuckles while he says this, but I don’t see anything funny. I sit forward and let him drive me home. After not even a minute of silence, he begins one of his stories, and I go into daydream land. I don’t come out of it until he pulls up outside of my apartment building.

  “Home sweet home,” he says.

  I sag with relief. Michael, and his stories, are kind of exhausting.

  “Thanks for the ride.” I reach for my bookbag.

  “Hey, Ariel?”

  I turn to him.

  “You’re a great girl. A good listener. I like that. I like you, Ariel. A lot.”

  His gray eyes are warm and sweet on me. He’s beautiful, but I’m too agitated with him to even feel a flutter.

  I should really feel bad about that, but I don’t.

  “Thanks. You’re a great guy too.”

  His hand goes to the back of my chair, and his eyes drop to my lips.

  I immediately know what he wants.

  Panic fills my chest, and I can think of only one thing.

  Stopping him.

  “Michael, uh.” I try to think of something, anything, to distract him from thinking of kissing me. I’m not in a kissing mood, especially with what’s going on with Duckie.

  “Are you going to Ronnie’s party tonight?”

  His eyes rise from my lips to my eyes, and he examines me closely, as if I’ve asked him a very hard and silly problem.

  “Yeah. You?”

  “Yeah. Sophia and I are going to ride together, if she’s feeling better.”

  “Don’t you want to ride with me?”

  I pick a piece of lint off my coat and drop it on the floor.

  “It’s sort of our thing.”

  He considers me, then nods.

  “If she’s not feeling up to it, call me, okay?”

  “Yeah,” I say quickly. “Definitely.”

  I reach behind me, pull hard on the door handle, and practically fall out of the car.

  “Thanks for the ride. See you tonight.”

  He waves at me thought the glass, looking a little disappointed.

  For some reason, even with his adorable pout, I don’t feel so bad.

  29

  Adella, Alana, and I all take a small nibble of each of the final food samples for the twins’ party. The caterer, a tall, skinny woman with a mole and a hook nose, has laid it all out on the dining room table.

  Everything smells divine.

  “You won’t find better food with less calories,” she says cheerfully. She’s been super nice this entire time, accommodating every change we threw at her. She didn’t even get an attitude when we asked for anti-allergen peanut butter cookies at two in the morning—there’s no such thing, by the way.

  Once the caterer packs up and leaves, the twins retire to their rooms to pour over their lists some more. It’s around nine-thirty when the front door quietly opens, then closes, and Duckie’s figure flashes in the hallway. She’s missed dinner, again, along with meetings with the caterer, the decorator, and the DJ. She was supposed to be organizing everything and, instead, here I was meeting with everyone, doing final touches on the dresses, and keeping Daddy from blowing a gasket at dinner.

  If she thinks she can just power walk in here without explaining herself, she has another thing coming.

  I jump up from the couch and jog into the hallway.

  “Duckie!”

  I’m just in time. Her fingers are gripping the brass doorknob.

  “Is someone chasing you?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

  She shakes her head.

  “Then why are you running?”

  She shrugs guiltily, her face a clear sign of the lie she’s about to tell.

  “I’m just tired.”

  “Tired?” I walk toward her.

  I feel the twins’ eyes on us from Alana’s bedroom door. I let them watch. Whatever Duckie is doing affects all of us. The twins have just as much a right to know the truth as I do.

  “Tired from work?”

  She swallows. “Yes.”

  “That’s funny, because I stopped by your job today and you weren’t there. In fact, the receptionist said she hasn’t seen you in weeks.”

  Duckie’s face goes white.

  “What are you hiding, Aquata?”

  “Nothing.”

  I take another step forward.

  “You don’t have to lie to me.” I gesture to the twins standing in the doorway. “To us. Whatever it is, we can take it.”<
br />
  “Ariel, please, just let this go.”

  “No.” I lower my voice so only she can hear. “You’re my sister and I love you. If you’re going through something”—I take her hand in mine—“then let me help you.”

  Her gaze drops to the floor.

  “You can’t help me,” she replies.

  “Then tell Daddy. He can help you.”

  She chuckles. “Definitely not.”

  I can’t help? Daddy can’t help? What exactly has she gotten herself into?

  “Duckie, please.” I squeeze her hand. “Please don’t shut me out.”

  Her eyes shine with unshed tears. Maybe we’re about to make a breakthrough. I hope we are.

  “I can’t.” Her watery eyes look up at me. “You remember your promise, don’t you?”

  My heart squeezes. Something’s wrong in my sister’s life, and I don’t know what it is or how to fix it. I feel so helpless.

  “Get some rest. You’ll know soon.”

  She tries to pull her hand from me, but I hold it tight.

  “Will you be at the twins’ party on Sunday?” I ask desperately. “Please. I can’t do it alone.”

  She sighs and looks up at the ceiling.

  “I promise you I’ll be at their party.”

  “And after that?”

  She shakes her head, still refusing to look at me. A moment later, she flees into her room and slams the door, leaving the twins and me to wonder why.

  30

  I swim hard.

  Harder than I’ve ever swum before.

  Yet, when I touch the wall, I already know I’ve lost.

  I’ve been to two of Ronnie Garrison’s parties this week. Both times I’ve swum against Vanessa. Both times, she’s beaten me. I’m so angry at myself that I slap the water.

  Charles Crammer’s voice echoes through the warehouse as he calls out from the side of the pool.

  “And your winner, for the second time, is national treasure and super swimmer, Vanessa Uma!”

  A couple of people around the pool cheer, but the echoes make it sound like more.

  The theme of tonight’s party is Silence. Everyone on the dance floor wears huge headphones. They looked crazy, dancing their hearts out while the inside of the dimly lit warehouse is so quiet.