St Mary's Academy Series Box Set 1

by Seven Steps

  Mom: Five months until Yale.

  Mom and Dad, well, mostly Mom, had planned for me to attend an internship program at Yale Medical School this summer. She’d graduated from Yale ages ago and expected me to follow in her footsteps.

  Mom and I didn’t talk much. She was too busy fighting with my father to ask about my life. But when we did speak, it was always about my future at Yale. Courses I could take that would prepare me for med school. Scheduling visits to the campus. Meeting one of her old college professors for lunch. It seemed that her life revolved around screaming at my father and planning my college life.

  In her eyes, this summer program was a huge stepping stone for me. She expected me to go.

  And I hadn’t told her otherwise yet.

  Not that she’d carved out much time for us to talk about my great summer at Yale. And, for the record, she never once asked if I wanted to become a doctor. Maybe if she had, she’d know that blood made me nauseous and I hated touching strange people.

  I slammed my thumb against the lock button on my phone and shoved it in my purse. I didn’t have time to deal with Mom and her insane dreams. I had other things to worry about.

  I slid into my seat at the lunch table, rolled my head back, and groaned loud enough to be heard over the excited chatters in the cafeteria.

  “Mrs. Meredith hates my paintings,” I blurted out.

  Six pairs of eyes looked back at me. Bella French, Ariel Swimworthy, Sophia Johnson, Purity Dubois, Cole Winstead, and Eric Shipman.

  This was my circle.

  My people.

  My tribe.

  If anyone was going to make me feel better about my messy life, it was them.

  “Oh, honey,” Bella said, pulling me into a side hug. That was Bella. She was the hugger of our group. “Did she actually say she hated your paintings? Or do you just think she said she hated your paintings?”

  I looked into her brown eyes and took in her look for today. Her normally super curly brown hair was controlled in two, long French braids. Her flawless bronzed skin glowed. Her lips looked plump, like she’d been kissed recently. Not surprising. She and Cole were always making out.

  “She said they were flat and emotionless,” I said.

  “She’s flat and emotionless,” Ariel replied. Her red hair was fashioned in a single braid that hung down her left shoulder. She narrowed her green eyes at me and smiled. “Do you want me to let the air out of her tires?”

  That was Ariel. All fire and fight. I would never use physical violence or thoughtless pranks against anyone, but right now, I did appreciate the sentiment.

  “No. She can keep her tires. I just want her to like my paintings.”

  Suddenly, screaming filled the air. The lunchroom took on that frantic quiet that happens when teens sense a fight is close by. I stood up, trying to see what was happening. But, at five-foot-five, all I could see were people’s backs.

  “J!” Eric, Ariel’s boyfriend, called.

  He held his hand out to me and pulled me on top of the table where everyone else was already standing. From this vantage point, I could make out Ursula Meyers standing over a girl with blue hair seated at Ollie’s lunch table. I recognized the girl as Jean, one of Ollie’s friends. Ursula’s face was red, and she was screaming and pushing against Jean’s back. I watched Jean’s jaw tighten. I could see that she was holding herself back from retaliating.

  Then, Ursula reared back and used all of her weight to shove Jean so hard into the lunch table that a loud grunt left Jean’s mouth. That’s when Jean’s pale skin turned beet red, and she whipped around and stood up to face Ursula. Her chin was set. Her hands were balled into fists. There was such hatred in Jean’s eyes that I gasped. Ursula must’ve realized her mistake, because she took a step back and stood next to Dana Rich, her best friend. The three girls were equal in height, but Jean’s body was harder and rippled with lean muscle. She wore a classic leather jacket, a gray T-shirt, dark jeans, and combat boots, making her appear, at least to me, much more menacing than the other two cheerleaders.

  Jean took a step toward Ursula and Dana, who looked much less confident now than they did a minute ago.

  That’s when Ollie and a big, barrel-chested boy named Able came to the girl’s rescue. They formed a wall between Jean and Ursula and Dana. Then, Ollie put his hand on Jean’s shoulder and guided her from the cafeteria, while Able waved for Dana and Ursula to return to their seats.

  Crisis averted.

  “Man, would I have loved to see Ursula get what’s coming to her,” Ariel said.

  “Babe,” Eric said. “That’s your cousin.”

  “Doesn’t make her any less of a jerk.”

  We all sat down again as the lunch room began to calm.

  “Jasmine, may I see your pictures?” Purity asked. She stuck out her hand and gestured for me to hand my phone over. Purity’s Southern drawl seemed stronger today. The melodic tone eased me a bit. “I'm an excellent judge of art. My daddy used to fill our houses with very expensive pieces.”

  Right. The pictures. The fight almost made me forgot.

  I nodded and handed my phone over to her.

  Purity examined the picture, while Sophia looked over her shoulder.

  Panic swelled up within me, threatening to swallow me. I was always nervous when I had to show someone my work, my friends included. I smoothed down my minidress and tried to pretend I wasn’t studying Purity’s and Sophia’s every movement.

  When I saw the tension that gathered in Purity’s eyes, my gut rolled. Then sank like the Titanic.

  “It’s a very nice picture,” she said softly.

  “Is it supposed to be so… Lisa Frank?” Sophia asked, scrunching her mocha nose at the phone. Purity elbowed Sophia in the side hard enough for her to yelp.

  I blinked to keep from screaming. When that didn’t work, I swallowed. Hard.

  Sophia and Purity were recent additions to our friend group, but it seemed like they’d been my friends forever.

  That is, until this very moment.

  Sophia plucked the phone from Purity and turned it upside down, like Mrs. Meredith had. “It’s just kind of bright.”

  Ariel shot her a look that made her start to stutter.

  “Pretty, though,” Sophia said. “Unique.”

  I closed my eyes.

  So, Mrs. Meredith was right.

  My paintings did suck.

  What was I going to do now?

  My heart sped up and I took in big, gulping breaths to calm it. When that didn’t work, I rested my elbows on the table and covered my face with my hands.

  “This is bad,” I said. “This is so bad.”

  “Don't worry,” Bella said, pulling me into another hug. “You have time to work on it.”

  “But what if I don’t get any better? I can’t submit five sucky paintings to Devinta Holly and expect her to accept me into the internship. She’d laugh at me.” I remembered all of the makeup I had on and forced myself not to cry. “I’m doomed.”

  “J.” Bella rubbed small circles along my back. “It’s okay. If you’re that worried about it, why don't you get an art tutor or something? You know. Someone who can really help you spruce up your work.”

  I considered the idea, then dismissed it.

  Who would I use as an art tutor?

  When would I even have the time for lessons between school, homework, student council, and trying to keep my parents from killing each other?

  I held back a groan and dropped my hands from my face with a sigh.

  “Thanks for the idea,” I said, trying to give them a little smile. “I guess I’ll just have to figure it out.”

  “Whatever you decide to do,” Bella said, “know I have faith in you.”

  “We all have faith in you,” Ariel added.

  I gave Bella’s hand a little squeeze.

  “Thank you.”

  “Set list,” Cole called out, yanking a pen from a nearby notebook and writing on the back of his hand.r />
  I was going to ask why he didn’t use the actual notebook instead, but he pointed his pen at Sophia and continued to rant. “Limp Bizkit’s ‘Faith’ or George Michael’s ‘Faith’?” he asked.

  “Mash up.”

  “Awesome.”

  I frowned. “What are they talking about?” I asked. “I’m having a crisis!”

  “Sorry,” Cole replied. “I just had an idea and I didn’t want to lose it.”

  “Sophia’s in the band now,” Bella whispered. “She’s helping us build a new set list.”

  “And renaming the band,” Sophia said. “We are now, Blue Persia. Do you like it? I came up with the name.”

  Bella rolled her eyes. “And she won't let us forget it.”

  I sighed and momentarily set my troubles aside in light of this new development.

  Cole had been in a band before, then he and Bella were in a duet. Now it was a trio? Poor Cole. One guy and two strong women. I hope he was prepared.

  “What do you do in the band?” I asked.

  “I sing,” Sophia said proudly. “I’m a singer.”

  “I didn’t know you sang.”

  She nodded. “For a long time now. Is this a bad time to ask you about costuming? I know you’re going through an existential crisis and all, but Ariel and Eric are already on lighting, sound and stage effects, and we’re going to need all the help we can get if we’re going to be ready for our gig.”

  “Gig?” I asked.

  “We entered the Luis University Battle of the Bands yesterday,” Cole said. “It’s in like three weeks.”

  “Is that enough time to get ready?” I asked.

  Cole shrugged. “We’re gelling. I’m not worried.”

  “I’m running the catering table,” Purity said, waving one pale hand in the air. “I'm prepared for any and all allergies and dietary restrictions.”

  I held in a chuckle.

  “So, you’re good for costumes then?” Sophia asked. “I was thinking we could all do gold fringe.”

  “Negative on the gold fringe,” Cole said. “We vetoed that.”

  “When?”

  “Just now.”

  “You can’t veto things as they come up.”

  “I can, and I just did.”

  “Is this a band or a dictatorship?”

  “A little bit of both.”

  Sophia threw a piece of bread at Cole’s head and then the arguing began.

  Bella rolled her eyes. “They do this all day,” she whispered to me. “It’s like a really bad marriage.”

  “But you’re his girlfriend. What does that make you?” I asked.

  “A sister wife?”

  I laughed out loud.

  “Like I said. Costumes!” Sophia shouted at me. Apparently, the argument was over. Or at least paused. “Can you help us with costumes?”

  “Definitely. I just need to know what kind of costumes you want.”

  “I told you. Gold fringe.”

  “No fringe,” Cole shouted from the end of the table.

  “I'm so glad I’m on sound,” Eric said, shaking his head.

  The bell rang, and we gathered our things.

  I took Sophia’s arm as we walked out.

  “I'll come up with some sketches tonight and show you tomorrow.”

  She squealed and pulled me closer.

  “Girl, you are my hero.” She dropped her voice down to a whisper. “And just so we're clear, there will be fringe.”

  “No fringe!” Cold called from behind us.

  Sophia let go of me and snarled.

  “Cole, I told you not to boss me. This is an equal partnership!”

  “Fine. Tie breaker.” They both turned to Bella, who took a step back.

  “Fringe,” Sophia asked.

  Cole took a step forward. “Or no fringe.”

  Bella looked from Sophia, to Cole, and back to Sophia.

  She grimaced.

  “Sorry, Sophia.”

  Sophia screamed in frustrations and stormed off.

  I couldn't help but laugh at the entire situation.

  Bella, Sophia, and Cole all in charge of a band? It sounded like a recipe for disaster.

  I dumped out my tray and placed it on top of the trash can. Then I went to turn around and walked right into a navy-blue tray, the corner of which jammed directly in my rib.

  Ouch!

  “Jeez, are you okay?”

  I looked up and directly into the bluest eyes I'd ever seen.

  Andrew Johnson was the type of boy mature girls dreamed about. His hair was always neatly parted and combed. He wore sports coats, white button-up shirts, and dark slacks instead of hoodies and jeans. Plus, he headed the Future Entrepreneurs of the World Club—or the F.E.W. for short. He was a grade A student from a good family and had great prospects for the future.

  Andrew Johnson was the epitome of what I thought a boyfriend should be, and God knew I wanted him for myself.

  My mouth hung open, and, like an idiot, I openly gawked at him. My body was frozen, like a deer in headlights, and I couldn't bring myself to do anything but gaze into his beautiful blue eyes and dream about how gorgeous our babies would be.

  “I think you’re all right,” he said with a smile.

  Andrew Johnson smiled.

  At me.

  Holy crap!

  I’d dreamed about this boy for the last two years and he finally smiled at me. I could die a happy woman now.

  “I don’t think we’ve met. I'm Andrew Johnson. Like the president.” He held his hand out to me, and I slowly glided my fingers into his palm. His hands were super soft, and he smelled delicious, like fresh linen and mint and man.

  “I’m Jasmine. Like…”

  I tried to think of something to say, but he was so close and so perfect. It was becoming hard to breathe.

  “Like the flower?” he asked.

  “Yes. Right. Like the flower.”

  “Cool.”

  His eyes twinkled and my heart beat wildly in response.

  “Well, Jasmine like the flower. I guess I’ll see you around.”

  Was he leaving so soon? I wanted to pout, but I was too busy swooning.

  “Yeah. I’ll see you around.”

  He gave me a little wave goodbye before disappearing into the crowd.

  Andrew Johnson spoke to me.

  He said he’d see me around.

  Was this a dream? If so, I never wanted to wake up.

  I nearly floated to the green cafeteria doors, and directly into the path of six curious gazes.

  “Who was that?” Purity asked.

  “And why are you grinning?” Sophia asked.

  Uh-oh. I’d kept this crush a secret because, well, my friends could get a bit out of control when it came to matchmaking, and I didn’t want them to embarrass me. I’d kind of hinted at it the night of the Winter Formal, but now my secret was out.

  So much for keeping things under wraps.

  I took a deep breath and pulled my books close to my chest.

  “That was Andrew Johnson,” I said.

  Ariel raised an eyebrow.

  “Hm… Him again? I think we’d better keep an eye on this Andrew Johnson kid.”

  “I think someone’s already keeping her eye on him.” Purity winked at me, and I blushed harder.

  “Guys, please don’t—”

  “He’s in my business class,” Eric said, crossing his arms across his chest. “I’ll get some intel.”

  I rubbed at my forehead and groaned. “Please. No intel.”

  Ariel held up her hand. “No, no. We will check out this Andrew Johnson. And, if he’s worthy of you, we will ensure he never looks at another girl again.”

  “Guys—”

  “Run along, Jasmine.” Ariel placed a finger on her chin. “We’re planning your future.”

  “I get to pick the caterer at your wedding,” Purity announced.

  Great.

  This was why I didn’t want to tell them. They were going to
embarrass me in the worst possible way and Andrew was probably never going to speak to me again.

  I let my head roll back and trudged to my next class.

  “Don’t worry!” Ariel cried at me. “We have everything under control.”

  I groaned. That was just what I was afraid of.

  3

  Chemistry lab smelled like textbooks and battery acid.

  Back in September, the odor made me light-headed, but over the past few months I’d grown used to it. And now that the weather had grown colder, I barely noticed the sharp smell at all.

  The thought of my friends running recon on Andrew scared the daylights out of me. To be fair, I hadn’t done a whole lot of recon on Andrew since this infatuation began. There was still so much I didn’t know about him. And, since my circle of friends was small, it was hard to get any information on what he liked, what he didn’t like, and if he was even single.

  I was still mid-freak out when Ollie showed up to class—five minutes late, of course. He slid into the chair next to me in his typical, too casual way and dropped his bookbag haphazardly at his feet. He had none of the required material. No pencils or pens. No textbook or notebook. There was nothing about him that said studious. Heck, nothing about him even said student.

  “You okay, Princess? You look like someone just peed in your favorite heels.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’m sorry, what finishing school did you say you graduated from?”

  He smirked. “Finishing school is for girls,” he said smugly. “Shouldn’t you know stuff like that, Princess?”

  “Would you stop calling me Princess?”

  “What else would I call you?”

  “Uh, how about my name?”

  He pretended to think about it, then shrugged. “Nah, I like Princess better.”

  My teeth clenched. “Has anyone ever told you how irritating you are?”

  “Only you, Princess.”

  I growled, and his grin widened. I wanted to punch him in his perfectly white teeth, but that would’ve landed me in detention and, probably, on punishment at home when my parents found out.

  I couldn’t deal with this right now. My life was way too messy to give anything else attention. Ollie could find someone else to pester. I was done. Operation Freeze Out was in full effect starting right now.