“Don’t let Markus hear that,” Dez tells me, beaming. “He has it in his head I’m not marrying him because there’s someone else.”
I blink twice. “Suddenly I feel like my life might be in danger. Do I need to leave the continent?”
She snorts. “Nah, he’s in New York today. You can even have pie without dealing with his drama.”
It’s a well-known fact that Daisy bakes every day, but while the school café on the library’s ground floor does sell pastries, hers aren’t available to buy. She keeps them here for her boyfriend. Occasionally, and only with some specific people Markus Goltz approves of, she shares. I didn’t know how lucky I was at the time when she gave me a slice last year. Since then, I’ve maybe had two, each of them transcendent.
My stomach growls as she cuts up a piece of the prettiest pie I’ve ever seen, with so many meticulously arranged slices of apple in various shades of reds and green. The patchwork is a piece of art. I’d feel guilty for breaking it if a couple of slices hadn’t already been cut.
“I’d propose, but I’m guessing Markus probably has you bugged, and would hunt me down, so I’ll have to love you from afar.”
“Hopefully not too far?” Dez asks. “There’s an open party this weekend on their side of campus. You should come.”
Dez saystheirside of town, referring to the long drive littered with private houses, like she doesn’t live in the Wyvern House, one of the poshest of them all.
I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t know. The last party I went to didn’t end all too well.”
“Oh yeah, you found Charlotte.” She nods in understanding. “That must have been traumatic.”
My mind firmly fixed on Hector Cross’s lips against my clit, it takes me a second to remember.
“Right.” I clear my throat. “Do you have any news about her, by the way? Charlotte.”
“Oh, yeah. She’s next door these days. Much happier. How can I help you?” Dez says with a smile, directing her gaze behind me.
I move to let her serve her customer, taking my caffeine fix and the pie to a nearby table. Part of me is relieved to not have to answer about the party.
I was curious about the legendary legacy bashes, hence why I was more than happy to let Claire take me last week, and it was insane. Gorgeous space, great music, awesome open bar, with an actual fancy bartender. He even served us fancy champagne! But I was completely out of my depth, in Cross’s territory. I’m not about to let that happen again.
“Hey!” Claire skips up to me and slides into the free seat, looking positively radiant as always. “Oooh, Dez is serving pie?”
Her platinum curls flying around her face, she’s grown in both confidence and beauty in the short time I’ve known her, which is fucking unfair given how gorgeous she was in the first place. The difference is that she’s no longer sad or stressed.
I dip my head. “Markus is in another state.”
“Good timing. I saw Liv in the hallway and she told me I could find you here. Listen, I have a fair bit of free time because I dropped all the accounting classes. Do you thinkRothford Weeklycould use an artist? I could use it on my transcript. And you know, it won’t hurt for my scholarship either.”
I don’t hesitate. “I’m certain Marina will say yes. Our reach can’t possibly be any worse, anyway.”
Claire listened to my story about almost losing my scholarship with wide eyes a few days ago; I’m not surprisedshe’s come to the same conclusion as Liv and I about joining the club, just in case.
Little as I might like to admit it, the other students at Rothford aren’tjustrich. They’re also fucking smart.
Yes, when I first arrived, last year, I labored under that false assumption. I was bitter, a part of me believing that the teachers probably rated the silver spoon dicks higher, brooding over the unfairness of it all until I was paired withhimfor an econ project.
Hector Cross, hockey player in a letter jacket, a bloodyjock. A bad one, at that.
Despite his assurance that he’d been valedictorian in high school and now, I figured I’d have to handle the entire project by myself, that he’d use me, and if he reluctantly participated, he’d have nothing of value to add. That was my experience of jocks at my old high school, my boyfriend included. Instead, the dick more than pulled his weight. He’s a quick thinker, and unwilling to simply get the bare minimum done. I recognized a fellow star pupil after extra credit.
I reassessed my view of the entire school based on that partnership. The legacies are indeed relaxed, unbothered, because they don’t have the pressure of having to perform or losing the financing, but there are no slackers in Rothford. The less academically focused trust fund brats of Thorn Falls are sent to other schools, in LA or San Francisco.
I managed to make it to the top fifteen at the end of last year, but I’ll never forget the shame and fear that day in the advisor’s office, wondering if I’d be asked to pack my bags, or worse yet, still accepted here, but without the financial help I need to attend so far from home.
JoiningRothford Weeklyto ensure I’m given a bit of leeway in case I dip below the top thirty again is a small sacrifice. I understand why Claire would do the same.
“How about you come to our next meeting with some sketches? I’m sure Marina will be thrilled.” Unlike the rest of us, our editor actually likes journalism. If the paper ends up being decent, she can use it to show her experience when she looks for a job next year.
“Awesome.” Claire grins. “When and where do we meet?”