I’m relieved to hear it.
“Thanks for the inside scoop.” I’m curious about her as we head down the massive hall, through the foyer, and up the stairs to the third level of the enormous old building. For someone who claims that all the girls here are shallow, she seems pretty, well, normal. “How long have you been going to school here?”
Dana sighs a little. “Just two years. I’m a little younger than everyone else in our grade, so you can imagine how it was for me when I got here. These types … they aren’t exactly the most welcoming to newcomers.”
I smile a little to myself. If they only knew.
I can tell right away that Dana is exactly the kind of girl I would normally be friends with, at least back in my old life. She’s an outsider, and from the looks of it, she’s okay with that.
I used to be too, but I don’t want to be an outsider this time. I’ve seen where that leads you. People don’t like it too much when someone is different. They tend to shun them. I know that firsthand.
I’ve been an outsider all of my life, but now I finally have a chance to change that. Dana’s nice, and I like her already, but I’m definitely going to be aiming for the popular kids to hang out with.
Just thinking that makes me hate myself a little bit.
The room we share is the very last one at the end of the third-floor hall. It’s surprisingly spacious and has a great view of the grounds and lake beyond.
Dana is going on about how small the rooms are, but I can’t keep up. This might not be much to her … but it’s more than I’ve ever had.
The room has two beds, two desks with chairs, two bedside tables with lamps, and two closets. There are shelves on her side of the room, and the shelves are filled with books. I set my new school uniform on the unused bed and turn around to look at them closer.
People’s possessions can tell you a lot about them. It’s one of the ways I’ve learned to get to know people fast; by paying attention to what they surround themselves with. You have to learn how to adapt fast with my lifestyle.
My old lifestyle, I remind myself.
“What are you reading?” I ask, scanning the book titles. “Jane Austen, Rudyard Kipling, Mark Twain … Harry Potter?”
“I read good things.” She smiles back at me. “I’ll step out. Get changed and we’ll head to the library for your textbooks, and then get to class. You don’t want to be late on your first day.”
“Thanks,” I tell her, and breathe out a long sigh when she leaves.
I’m in my new home. My new school. So far everyone believes I’m Sadie White; little blonde rich girl.
I should be hurrying to get to class, but I have to stop and look outside. There are tennis courts, a small golf course, and even stables for horseback riding. I saw that there was a polo club, but that’s something I won’t be signing up for.
I’m jittery with a nervous energy despite the fact that the only sleep I’ve gotten in two days was stretched across bus station’s plastic seats.
Once I have my uniform on I find Dana out in the hall reading a book. She looks up at me from the bench where she’s sitting and gives me a nod of approval.
“You look the part now.” She stands up and pushes her book into her backpack, sliding the bag over her shoulder. “Hungry? We have time to swing by the dining hall before class if you want to.”
Normally I’d be all over breakfast, but my nerves are strung too tight for me to have any kind of appetite. I shake my head.
“No, maybe tomorrow. Right now I’d rather just get my books and get to class.”
There are already other students filling the hallways, and the bustle of morning rush buzzes all around us. It’s happened at every school I’ve ever been to; the first few days there everyone stares at me. I’m used to it.
I don’t like it, but I’m used to it.
Dana and I go downstairs to the main level and round the corner of the foyer, heading to the long corridor adjacent to the front doors of the school. We’re running a little late, but there’s a small group of boys blocking one of the halls.
One of them has his back to me, his arms full of books. He’s much smaller than the four boys who are standing directly in front of him, and I can tell by his hunched over stance and cowering head that this isn’t the first time this has happened. I grit my teeth and shift my eyes from the back of his head to the face of the boy who’s obviously the ringleader of the bullies tormenting him.
I’m not prepared for what I find.
The sight of him takes my breath away for a moment. He’s beautiful. There’s no other word for it. He’s just incredibly beautiful.
His wavy, dark golden-brown hair is styled perfectly; combed in long locks over half of his forehead, while from the crown down it’s short and clean cut. He has thick dark eyebrows over arrogant brown eyes. His face looks like Michelangelo himself carved it from marble; full lips, a strong jaw, high cheeks, and a perfectly rounded nose.