“Peppermint Mocha Frappe with extra cookie crumble, extra whip cream, and mocha drizzle,” she says into the box, before turning back to me and laughing when she sees the look on my face. “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it. What do you want?”
“I’ll just take a cold brew with mocha and almond milk,” I tell her, reeling off the floofiest drink on my personal coffee menu. It’s too goddamn warm for hot coffee right now, and I know if I have her sugary drink, I’ll crash before lunch.
Once we get our drinks, she cranks up the latest Midnight Blue release and we sing at the top of our lungs until we pull into the parking lot at school. I smile when I see Raleigh and his friends standing near the steps up to the school, and we head straight for them.
“Octavia, hey!” Raleigh calls out, and I smile at him. I loop my arm through Indi’s, practically dragging her along with me.
“Hey, guys,” I offer with a smile, and Indi gives them all a small awkward wave. Oh my God, she’s the cutest. I love her so much, and it’s only been a day.
“I hear you guys are coming to my party this Friday?” one of the guys says, beaming at us with a classic puppy dog smile.
“If you’re Jackson, then you’d be right.”
He clasps his chest, acting like a swooning heroine from some fifties movie. “The girl doesn’t even know who I am, my poor little heart.”
I can’t help but laugh at him as Indi giggles at my side. The girl fuckinggiggles.She must be downright smitten.
Raleigh drops an arm around my shoulder and puffs out his chest. “She doesn’t need to know your name, bro, she already knows mine.”
Jackson pulls a face, and Raleigh removes his arm from my shoulder before lunging at him. They start wrestling and laughing, so we say our goodbyes and head inside to our lockers. I drop off most of my books, only keeping what I need for English, and groaning at the thought of repeating the day I had yesterday. The monotonous schedule is one thing I didn’t miss about traditional schooling. On the road, my tutor would change up what we did each day, because ya know, variety is the spice of life. The thought of having the same lessons at the same time every single day makes my little black heart shrivel some more. I’m just hoping that today I can focus enough to take notes at least. Hopefully I’ll actually even learn something. The only classes that I feel confident about are English and French, because languages have always come easy to me. Music would usually be on that list, but right now, the thought of playing or singing makes me want to die a little.
“You ready for another bright and sunny day at Echoes Cove Prep?” Indi asks, shoving her head in her locker like she’s trying to disappear into it.
“Oh yeah, it should be joyous,” I quip, wishing I could disappear too. If she has a portal to Narnia in there, she better not be fucking keeping it from me.
“Whore,” one guy coughs as he passes, and I flip him the bird as his friends laugh like he’s just told the world’s funniest joke. It’s good to see that the delights of yesterday are going to continue today.
I need way more coffee than I’ve already had this morning if I’m expected to actually deal with this shit. If I make it through the day without being arrested, it’ll be a good day.
* * *
English was a breeze. A debate with Ms. Summers about which main character from all of the books on our list fit best into the stereotype of a Byronic hero got my day off to a stellar start. Obviously I chose Heathcliff because well… duh. It’s freaking Heathcliff.
I didn’t even have time to care about Blair and her bitch squad being catty the entire class. Though, knowing I’ll be moving out of her house at the end of the week is definitely keeping my mood nice and breezy.
My entire day is going great until I find myself sitting in Business class, the not-so-proud co-owner of a project with Lincoln fucking Saint… A project that’s going to last the entire fucking semester and make up nearly half of our grade.
Fuck my actual life.
The lesson draws to a close, and I escape to Music without incident. I might need to work with Lincoln on the project, but I’m just stubborn enough that I’m positive I can do it without actually speaking to him.
I slide into the back of the music room, just the same as yesterday. This lesson is a refuge as much as it’s a waking nightmare. None of the assholes haunting my life are in this class. In fact, the only person I know here is Raleigh. The problem is that everything about this lesson reminds me of my dad.
Miss Celine flounces into the room, her scarf waving behind her as she flourishes her arms to bring the chatter to an end. “Morning, everyone, I hope you’re ready for the day! I’ve done some thinking after we finished the vocal seating assignment yesterday, and I couldn’t help but reflect on the skill level of this group in particular. I want to challenge you, so I’ve decided that a solo will be required from each of you. The solos will be performed at the end of the semester, and I’d like it to be an original piece. You are permitted to work with another on the composition if you don’t have the skill to play an instrument yourself, but you will each be required to perform a solo performance.”
I fight the simultaneous urges to groan and pull out my hair. There goes my refuge. This class was meant to be easy. I mean, it's not like I got a choice with the class since my schedule was picked by my guardian. I know Smithy didn’t mean anything by it, so I can’t hold it against him… Butfuck.
It’s not that the project will be hard. I literally spent as much time composing music as I did studying when I was growing up. The problem is that I haven’t been able to play, or even really sing, since my dad died.
I got through the last class by the skin of my teeth. I only had to sing one solo line and mumbled through the rest, and I handled that okay. It’s just that I totally hid in the bathroom for ten minutes after that, trying to pull myself out of the dark hole that threatened to consume me from the inside out.
Everyone says that senior year is meant to be one of the best years of your life. I dare those fuckers, whoever they are, to live through the past few months of my life and tell me it’s the best time ever.
“The music rooms will be open to you before the day begins, during lunch, and for an hour and a half once the school day is over. Use your time wisely. Now, let’s warm up!” She turns on the music system, and I can’t help but grin at the song that blasts through—“She’s So Gone” by Naomi Scott. I’d be totally lying if I said this song didn’t feature heavily in my early teen years.
Miss Celine blushes a little before shrugging. “You guys probably know the words, so let’s do this.”
The words wash over me in a wave, and I remember the time I sang this with Dad’s band before one of his shows. It was my first arena performance, and I was hyped for weeks after it. I’ve never been one for performing publicly, but that performance was what solidified my desire to work in the music business. I just wanted it to be in a different way from my dad.