“Carter! Get your ass in here!” an older man wearing a whistle around his neck and a baseball cap calls out from the other end of the corridor.
Carter’s eyes stay on mine, a small smirk appearing on his mouth. “I’ll see you around, Madison.” He pushes off the wall with a grin, strolling past me.
“Yeah,” I answer, once he’s already gone. “I’ll see you around.” Turning back around to peer over my shoulder, I catch him watching me, so I wave lightly at him before carrying on toward PE.
That’s two nice people I’ve met on my first day, and I didn’t see him sitting with the Elite-whatever boys, so I’m hoping he isn’t friends with them.
I’m waiting outside the front gate of the school for my driver when Tatum comes running up to me. “So, Carter Mathers.” She wiggles her eyebrows.
I tilt my head. “How do you even know about that? It literally happened not one hour ago.”
“News travels fast around here.” She picks at her nails, unfazed.
“I’m starting to get that,” I mutter.
“So anyway,” she continues, hooking her arm in mine. “I need your number so we can plan this weekend.” I see my black limo pull up to the curb, and Harry, my dad’s driver, steps out of the driver side. Tatum pulls out her phone, and I ramble off the numbers to her while making my way to my ride. “Okay! I’ll text you!” she yells out, as Harry opens my door and I clutch it in my hand.
“Do you have a driver?” I ask her, one foot inside the car.
She shakes her head. “I drive.”
I wave her off and slide into the back of the car. Today was truly interesting. I’m not sure how to take the events that have happened, but if every day is going to be like today, I’m in for a long ride.
AFTER PUSHING OPEN THE DOUBLE front doors to our colonial home, I drop my bag in the foyer and make my way into the kitchen. Our house is exactly what you’d expect someone like my father to own. All neutral milky whites on the walls, with a crystal white staircase that leads up to the second level. I take a can of Coke out of the fridge before making my way upstairs. My dad and his new bride will be back on Monday, and I’ve only met her once or twice, but from what I’ve seen, she seems nice. Nicer than his last money-hungry broad, who he brought home anyway. I’m walking up the stairs when my phone vibrates in my back pocket. I fish it out quickly and slide it open when I see it’s my dad.
“Hey.”
“Madi, sorry, honey. We forgot to tell you that Elena’s son will be moving into the manor as well.”
I pause, scanning the long hallway once I reach the top of the staircase. “Okaaay. I didn’t know she had a son.”
“She does. He attends your school. I need you to keep him at arm’s length.”
“What does that mean?”
He sighs. “Just wait until we get home, Madi.”
“Dad, you’re being cryptic. I’ll see you when you get home, and I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
I hang up the phone before he can continue to badger me, or worse, give me “the talk.” After shoving my phone into the back pocket of my jeans, I walk to my bedroom door, halting when I hear sounds coming from the bedroom next to mine. Is he already here? Fighting my nosey tendencies, I push through my door and sigh with the relief of being back in my safe bubble. Kicking my door closed, I walk toward the Victorian-style glass doors that open out onto the little balcony that hangs over the pool. I push open the white net curtains and unlock the latch to let some air in. The light afternoon breeze brushes over me, sending my long brown hair swishing over my shoulder.
My safe bubble of relaxation is short-lived as Ludacris’s “What’s Your Fantasy” shakes the vintage art I have hanging on my walls with its deep-sounding bass. I shake my head, walking back into the room, which continues to house boxes of all my items I haven’t unpacked yet. I pull open the bathroom door that’s joined onto my room and close it before wiggling out of the clothes I wore to school. Slipping into the scorching yet soothing spray of water, I work double time at washing myself before turning off the faucet and wrapping a towel around my body.
I’m stepping out of the shower when I see someone leaning against the doorframe of the other room that’s connected to the bathroom. A loud scream erupts from me, and I clutch the towel around my body. I forgot about that damn door. Genuine’s “Pony” is playing now, and my eyes narrow on the tall, lean guy standing in front of me with his arms crossed in front of himself.