St Mary's Academy Series Box Set 2

by Seven Steps

I tapped my finger on my chin and released a breath.

  I can’t do this anymore. I can’t lie anymore. I can’t cheat. I’m through being that girl.

  It’s time to tell the truth.

  My hands were trembling as I picked up my phone and dialed Clay’s number.

  It rang twice before Clay’s oil-slick voice came on the line.

  “If it isn’t the greatest actress in the history of the arts.”

  Just the sound of his voice made my skin crawl. I was so ready to be done with Clay Roman.

  “Get yourself another girl. I’m through.”

  He laughed once. “Excuse me? I thought I heard you say something crazy.”

  “I did. I’m done.”

  Another single laugh. “Babe, first of all, that’s impossible. I can’t fake implant a fake baby into just anyone’s body. It’s your kid. Own up to it.”

  I wasn’t in the mood for his games, and I hated being called babe.

  “Clay, I want you to listen very closely: I am not playing this twisted game anymore. I’m finished. I want out.”

  I paced circles in my carpet, my hands gripped into fists. I was so angry I could scream.

  “Meg, Meg, Meg. Are you forgetting our agreement?”

  “I’m not forgetting it. I’m breaking it. I won’t hurt him anymore.”

  His voice dropped down to lethal levels.

  “I don’t think you understand what you signed up for, so let me spell it out for you. Our agreement doesn’t end until the season is over. When that time comes, you and your fake kid can skip off into the sunset for all I care. Until then, Megera, I own you. You think it’s bad now? Wait until I tell everyone you lied to get the school’s resident hero thrown off the team because you bet big on Dartmouth Academy to win the playoffs. What will they say when I tell them St. Mary’s lost its favorite player all because of your acute gambling problem?”

  I gasped. “That’s not true!”

  “Well, it’s actually worse than the truth, but I like my version much better.”

  “That’s not fair. I did everything you asked.”

  “And you will keep doing everything I ask until I’m through with you. Are we clear?”

  I pushed my nails deep into the heels of my palms until they cut through my skin.

  “Meg, I said, are we clear?”

  My heart fell to my feet. My breath left and didn’t return. I could only squeeze out a mouse-like sound.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Now, run along and keep Golden Boy happy—your future depends on it.”

  The line went dead.

  A roar left my mouth and I flung my phone across the room.

  I was trapped with no way out.

  But there had to be a way.

  For Julius’ sake, there had to be a way. I paced my room some more, trying to plan, trying to think.

  Suddenly, the front doorbell rang.

  Odd. I wasn’t expecting anyone, and no deliveries were scheduled. Maybe my dad had gotten locked out?

  I jogged downstairs and pulled the door open.

  A redhead with big green eyes stared back at me.

  “Ariel?”

  She smiled. “Hi Meg. I just stopped by to see if you were okay. Is this a good time?”

  Shock at seeing Ariel Swimworthy standing on my doorstep momentarily stole my breath. I never had visitors, but Ariel wasn’t just a visitor. She was the daughter of one of the richest men in the state, and not only that, she was Julius’ cousin and one of my three newly acquired defenders.

  What was she doing at my house?

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “You look a little zoned out.”

  I commanded myself to snap out of it and forced a smile onto my face.

  “Sorry, I’m just tired. Please, come in.”

  She walked past me, the plastic bag in her hand crackling. The sound echoed through the empty house.

  My fingers shook, and I stuffed them into pockets. I was still keyed up from my confrontation with Clay, and now Ariel was here. My nerves felt stretched and taut enough to snap.

  “Nice place,” she said.

  I swallowed, trying to calm myself down. “Thanks.”

  Ever the gracious host, I led her into the living room and waved for her to sit on one of the overstuffed grey couches.

  The far side of the room was lit by the moonlight filtering in through the large glass sliding doors. To the left of the doors, a giant television screen hung above the fireplace we never used. Directly in front of the couch, old copies of Good Housekeeping and National Geographic were stacked neatly atop a glass coffee table. The room was cold, partially because of the glass doors, and partially because we hadn’t used it since Mom got diagnosed. The heat hadn’t been turned on in this part of the house since winter started. I jacked it up to eighty degrees now to ward off the chill.

  “It’s quiet,” Ariel said. “Are your parents home?”

  “No.”

  “Brothers and sisters?”

  “No.”

  “Pets?”

  I dug my toes into the soft, expensive rug and shrugged.

  “Nope. It’s just me. My mom’s in the hospital and my dad’s with her.”

  Her face fell. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “She has breast cancer. The doctors don’t know if she’ll make it through.”

  Ariel sat down on the couch and placed a hand on my knee.

  “Meg, I’m so sorry. To go through all of this without your mom must be devastating.”

  I lifted my foot from the carpet and tucked it beneath me.

  “Yes, it is,” I replied.

  I knew she was talking about the pregnancy, but I was talking about everything else—the rumors about Dad that grew more malicious and frightening each day, taking care of the house by myself, not knowing what our family’s financial future was going to be, my own lies. Throughout all of that, my mom wasn’t there. No one was.

  Ariel’s hand squeezed my knee.

  “Well, I just wanted to come by and tell you I’m here if you need anything. Even if you just want to vent, you can call me. We’re family now.” She handed me the plastic bag. “Here.”

  I took it and looked inside.

  It was a green pack of diapers. In big yellow letters were the words organic fiber.

  It was a nice gesture, but I still cringed.

  “Thanks,” I said, placing the bag at my feet.

  She smiled. “You don’t have to go through this alone. We’re all here for you—me, Julius, Eric, Clay—all of us.”

  Then, she opened her arms and, for reasons I didn’t understand, I fell into them. I barely knew this girl, but I soaked her shoulder with tears because she let me. No one had given me the space to cry in a long time, and for some reason, I felt safe doing it with Ariel. Maybe because she’d defended me, maybe because she was there when no one else was, or maybe it was just because I wanted my family back and she was the closest thing I had to one at that moment.

  I cried until I was all cried out. I cried for my mother. I cried for my father. I cried for Julius. But, most of all, I cried because no matter what happened now, I’d end up alone, more alone than I’d ever been before, and I was terrified.

  Truely.

  Utterly.

  Completely.

  Terrified.

  8

  The next morning before classes began, I snuck into film club and collapsed into a bean bag. I needed to ease the feeling of doom in the pit of my stomach, and this was the only place that had ever made me feel at ease. I reached into my bookbag and pulled out a collage of photos I’d put together the night before. Each was a different shot of Julius, and each shoved me a little farther into a dark pit of misery.

  This gorgeous guy had not only defended me against a mob of football-crazed teenagers, but his cousin had come to my rescue too. Who does that? How did this guy have such strong family bonds that his cousin would tackle an angry crowd without knowing anything about me?

&
nbsp; The more I thought about it, the more I sank into the bean bag, wishing I was anywhere but at St. Mary’s.

  The normal calmness I always felt here evaded me, and I searched the room for a poster to lift my spirits. My eyes stopped at the colorful one for El Norte. A deeper sense of sadness bombarded my senses as I recalled the movie and the plight of the two Guatemalans. The United States represented a better life for them, just like St. Mary’s represented a better life for Julius, and I was the guy dressed like a coyote, trying to take it all away.

  I pulled on my hair and shook my head.

  Maybe there’s something I can do?

  I pulled out my phone and texted Julius to meet me by the football field for lunch.

  Four hours later, we sat away from everyone on the cold bleachers.

  His sneaker hit the metal bench with a beat to match his words.

  “What do you think about homeschooling?” he asked.

  I nibbled on my carrot. “What?”

  “Homeschooling.” He shrugged. “My mom homeschooled me until freshman year. I’ve just been thinking it would be good for us to do with the baby—you know, keep it protected, safe.”

  My stomach turned, and I fidgeted in my seat.

  “We can cross that bridge when we get to it.”

  He nodded, seeming to accept my answer. Then, he took another bite of his burger and said, “I’ve been thinking about quitting school altogether and working at a construction company full time. It’ll be good for us to save up money for the baby.” He bit into his double hamburger.

  I nearly spit out the carrot I had been nibbling on like a rabbit on a diet.

  Crap! This is much worse than I imagined.

  He stretched his jean-clad legs over the bench in front of us. “I spoke to my dad’s friend, and he thinks he can find me a job here in Manhattan. The pay is really good too.” He took another bite of his burger.

  The sun peeked out of a dark cloud, and every strand of his hair not inside his cap caught the rays.

  “No, Golden Boy.” The nickname slipped out before I could stop it. “You can’t do that. You need to stay in school.”

  It was a foolish thing to say really. Him quitting St. Mary’s Academy was part of the deal, but I said it anyway because I really didn’t want him to leave school. Julius was a good person. I wanted him to graduate and go on to college and follow his dreams, not rot away in adulthood at sixteen. I wanted Julius to fight for his life, even if it meant I would lose out on mine.

  He smiled before he shook his head. “No, Coats. Staying at St. Mary’s won’t work because it’s too expensive, and a part-time job just won’t cut it.” He stared at his sneakers. “We’ll need money in five months, and there’s a ton of employment for construction workers right now. My dad’s friend said he could find me a high-paying job because I’m strong and can do the work of two men.” He pointed at his biceps and smiled that amazing smile that made my body want to melt into his.

  The temptation was too great, and I touched his jacket. His wall of muscles tensed up before it relaxed.

  “You can’t quit,” I said. “You need to stay in school and finish your education.”

  Please Julius. Please stay.

  “Not possible with a baby on the way. It’s time to grow up, to be a man. Whatever dreams I had”—his sad expression pierced my heart—“they were great for a while, but now it’s time to start some new ones.”

  I hated Clay Roman. If he had been in front of me right then, I’d have shoved a football down his throat.

  With a soft touch, I rubbed Julius’ forearm. “Maybe there’s a way for you to finish out the rest of your schooling here….”

  “No, it’s okay. Fathers take care of their children. My dad would do the same. I’m sure yours would too.”

  “But there must be a way for you to stay without the football scholarship.” I twirled my hair.

  There just had to be.

  He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what I wanted in the past. Leaving school is the right move for me—for us.”

  The breeze picked up and I shuddered. I wished I had chosen the right way instead of latching on to Clay’s plan like a piranha to fresh meat.

  He jerked his chin at my salad. “Are you going to eat any more?”

  I shook my head. My stomach would’ve rejected the food if I tried to force myself to eat.

  “I guess we’re done with lunch, then.” He held out a hand to help me up. We gathered our garbage and carried it to the bins by the lockers.

  I stayed silent as questions and bitter thoughts oscillated through my mind like a fan on high speed.

  Julius took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  “Don’t worry Coats, I’ve got this.”

  I nodded. “I know.”

  “I’ll see you after school.”

  “Yeah. See you then.”

  He kissed my forehead and headed to his next class.

  I made a beeline for the guidance counselor’s office, where I proceeded to beg for the next possible appointment. The counselor was out for the rest of the day, but I succeeded in procuring the first slot for the following morning.

  It’d been a long time since I’d had a success, and I let the sweet feeling of victory carry me through the rest of the day.

  The next morning, I headed straight to the office. My fingers fiddled with the strap of the black Leica Q digital camera hanging from my shoulder as I waited for the receptionist to wave me inside with her long, eggplant-colored fingernails.

  The guidance counselor, Mrs. Rhodes, punched a couple of keys on her computer and stared at the screen.

  “Hello, Miss Kotopuli. What brings you in this morning?” She gave me a tight smile.

  “I’m here for Julius Samson.”

  She raised her super thin eyebrows. “Julius? And why would you come here for him? He hasn’t done anything”—she cleared her throat—“against you, has he?”

  “No! No!” I waved my hands in front of my chest. “He would never do anything wrong. He’s super sweet.”

  “Yes, he is.” She glanced at her watch. “We only have fifteen minutes. What can I help you with?”

  Wow, could she have made it any more obvious she didn’t want me there? Maybe she’d already heard the rumors about me? Maybe she thought I was just another girl who made bad life choices? My face went hot. Yes, I’d made bad decisions, but not about the stuff she was thinking, and I was trying to make it right. That’s why I was there. Why couldn’t she see that?

  “If Julius loses his football scholarship, can he stay in school?’

  She lifted her eyebrows again. “Why do you want to know?”

  Note to self: never ask this guidance counselor for help again.

  “Just curious,” I said, sliding my index finger underneath my camera strap.

  She pursed her lips.

  “Why didn’t he come here himself? He’s quite capable.”

  My lie came quickly. That seemed to happen more and more lately.

  “He had an important test to study for. I’m just here to help.”

  “Really?” She sounded as if she didn’t believe me.

  “Yes.” I released my hair to fiddle with the shutter release.

  “You know I can’t talk about an individual student’s financial situation.”

  “I’m not asking you to.” I cleared my throat. “I just want to know if he can keep his scholarship if he doesn’t play.”

  She examined me a moment before shaking her head.

  I was starting to think a jar of pennies would make a better counselor than Mrs. Rhodes. Was this the type of person an exclusive academy like this would hire? She looked bored and more miserable than me—how was that possible?

  “All players must play and keep their grades up to maintain their scholarship.”

  I knew that, but it still stung to hear her say it.

  “Is it possible to obtain other scholarships?”

  She shook her head again.
“Not at this time. They’ve all been awarded, but he can try again for the spring. We usually have more scholarships available then.”

  The disappointment crushed me. I’d foolishly thought I could walk in there and set everything right with a simple conversation. How could I have been so naïve? So stupid? There was only one way to set this right, and it was not through the guidance counselor—especially not one like Mrs. Rhodes.

  “Thanks,” I whispered, standing and gathering my things.

  Yeah, thanks for nothing.

  I walked out of the office, feeling weighed down and uneasy.

  If Julius didn’t play, he’d lose his scholarship. There had to be a way to make up for the lost money.

  Maybe I could sell my shoes? My mom bought me at least a dozen pairs of Jimmy Choo heels before she got sick. They had to be worth a couple thousand dollars. If I threw in the six pairs of Stuart Weitzman riding boots I saved for special events, that would be another thousand.

  I rubbed my temple with my index and middle finger.

  It wasn’t enough. Even if I threw in the two thousand dollars I’d saved up from my birthday money, it only amounted to five thousand dollars—a nice chunk of change, but definitely not enough for his tuition. It was barely enough for a year’s worth of books.

  But I couldn’t let him quit and lose that scholarship.

  Sweet Julius couldn’t give up his dream for me. I wouldn’t allow it.

  I had to do something.

  But was I brave enough?

  9

  Somehow, within the course of a day, my scandal went from just football players and cheerleaders to everyone at St. Mary’s Academy, including teachers.

  For the amount of drama this caused, I might as well have actually been pregnant.

  No, wait—scratch that.

  Diapers, sleepless nights, and drool were definitely not for me.

  After a day full of teachers pretending not to stare at me and someone leaving a diaper loaded with melted Snickers bars next to my locker, needless to say, things were not going well.

  When Julius picked me up and drove me to his parents’ house, I knew everything was just going to get worse.

  When he opened the door and I looked into his parents’ pissed off faces, I knew I was right.