The Garden

by Amy Sparling

  My eyes go wide. “What kind of torture is that?”

  She shrugs. “It’s a boarding school.”

  “So why do we have a bathroom if no one else does?” I already know the obvious answer – money – but it doesn’t make sense because Belle’s mom doesn’t have much of that.

  Belle tugs at her sleeve again, a nervous habit. “These are the staff dorms. The staff has private bathrooms. I got moved here a few years ago.”

  “Ew... this is a staff building? I don’t want to live next to teachers.”

  “It’s mostly staff, not teachers. Like office workers, and TA’s and stuff. And honestly, not many people live here. I think most of the rooms are empty.”

  I roll my eyes. I guess the benefits of a private bathroom, no matter how small, outweigh being in a building that won’t have fun parties.

  “There was a memo for you,” Belle says, turning to the bulletin board that’s hanging on her side of the dorm room. She plucks off an envelope and hands it to me.

  It’s a typed letter from the dean, welcoming me to Shelfbrooke Academy. He’s included my schedule and told me to find Ms. Beverly in the front office as soon as I arrive.

  “Do you think they’ll make me start classes today?” I ask.

  “I don’t know.” Belle sits on her bed and looks out the window.

  “Are you on lunch break or something?” I ask.

  “Not really,” she says, messing with her sleeve again.

  “Well… are you going to show me where the front office is?”

  Belle’s nervous expression comes back. My cousin is extremely weird. She takes a deep breath. “I’m really busy, but I can tell you where to go.”

  I lift a curious eyebrow. She doesn’t look busy. She tells me the way to the front desk, and she also warns me that I should put on a uniform. Uh, no thanks.

  “Uniforms are mandatory,” she says, biting her bottom lip. “You have to wear them at all times.”

  I put a hand on my hip. “You’re not wearing one.”

  Her cheeks flush red. Something tells me I shouldn’t have mentioned that, but I don’t know why. She’s a student here too, after all.

  “I’ll wait until I go to classes to wear that stupid thing,” I say, casting a scornful glance at the pile of uniforms on my bed. “And thanks for letting me borrow your sheets. I’ll order my own online and have them shipped overnight to me.”

  Belle’s directions were easy enough and soon I’m entering the main building where the front desk is. Everything about this place screams prestigious and expensive, and it makes me wonder why they put us away in tiny little dorm rooms. Shouldn’t students get to live in luxury when their parents are paying a ton of money for their education?

  The woman behind the front counter has bright blonde hair pulled into a neat bun on top of her head. Her face is round and friendly.

  “Hi, dear,” she says, beaming at me.

  “Are you Ms. Beverly?”

  “I am. Most people call me Ms. Bev,” she says with a smile. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m new,” I say, holding out the schedule I’d received in my letter from the dean. “I was told to come talk to you.”

  “Oh, perfect! Hello there, Miss Brass.” Ms. Bev stands up and shakes my hand. “It’s so lovely to meet you. We don’t usually have new students in the middle of the school year.”

  “Yeah it was… a surprise,” I say.

  She picks up her desk phone. “I have a student who will show you around campus. Give me just a moment. You can wait right over there.”

  I thank her and go stand in the lobby while I wait to meet the first student at Shelfbrooke who isn’t related to me. My phone rings from my back pocket, and although I wish it was Henry calling to tell me he misses me and wants only me, not Viv, and that he will wait until I graduate and move back, it’s not him. It’s my mother.

  “Hello,” I say, in the most apathetic voice I can make.

  “Did you make it there safely?”

  “Yep,” I say, heaving a sigh.

  “Great. I got a notice from the shipping company and your luggage will be delivered in a few hours. They’ll probably call you to the office or something.”

  “Wonderful,” I say in a way that shows I clearly don’t think it’s wonderful at all.

  Mom sighs. “Sophia, why are you being like this?”

  “Oh I don’t know,” I say. “Maybe because you forced me to go to some stupid school for no reason at all. It sucks here, Mom. The rooms are small and everything is old and ancient, and the uniforms are the most hideous thing I’ve ever seen—”

  “Sophia!” Mom snaps. “I will not have you talking to me this way. You are too old to be such a brat.”

  I grit my teeth. I hate that word. Brat. I hate it more than the other B word which most people find more offensive. Nope. This word is so much worse to me. I’ve been called it my whole life. It’s not my fault I am the way I am.

  I hold the phone close to my ear and I regret the words the second I think of them, but that doesn’t stop me from saying it. “I’m clearly not too old to be a brat, mother, because you’re the biggest brat I know, and you’re twice my age.”

  “Sophia-” Mom starts, but I’m done listening. She’s already stuck me in this crappy school in the cold New England weather with my weird cousin. I hang up the phone.

  When I turn around, a gorgeous guy is standing there, blue eyes wide as he watches me. I close my eyes for a brief moment. Of course. Of course some hot guy was here and heard that whole conversation.

  I hold my head high and start to walk away.

  “Sophia?” he says, stepping over to block my exit. “I’m Declan. I’m here to show you around campus.”

  Chapter Five

  My defenses shoot up. My metaphorical walls that protect me from all the rich bullies in my life rise up and protect me. It’s instant. It’s instinctual. Instead of allowing myself to feel embarrassed because this random guy just heard me whining and complaining to my mom, I put on a brave face. I hold my head up, my shoulders back. This guy—what was his name? Declan—is taller than I am. But I have perfected the art of looking down on someone. You must treat everyone as if they have no power over you. No ability to make you hurt. No way to make you feel embarrassed.

  You are better than they are. That’s the only way to feel as though you won’t break apart.

  I draw in a deep breath and look him over. He’s not wearing the Shelfbrooke uniform, but rather a dark blue jumpsuit with the Shelfbrooke logo stitched on the chest.

  “What are you?” I say, letting the tone of my voice convey that I’m better than him. “Some kind of janitor? They sent a janitor to show me around?”

  “I’m a gardener,” he says. “I’m also a student.”

  I flip my hair over my shoulder. “Why?”

  He looks confused for a second, and then shrugs. “Because some people need jobs to pay their bills.”

  I roll my eyes, then hold out my hand and wave for him to get started. “I don’t want to keep you from your job, so let’s get on with this.”

  He turns and opens a door that leads outside, holding it open as I walk through. I know I should thank him because that’s what decent humans do, but I’m still horribly embarrassed from that phone call with my mother. Normally I wouldn’t think twice about this kind of thing, but as I walk on by without thanking him, I feel bad about it. Maybe because he’s a normie, like Viv would say. He’s not some trust fund jerk that hangs in the wealthy circles in California. He’s just a regular guy. He even has a job at the school. How lame is that?

  “Is this your first time a Shelfbrooke?” he asks.

  “Yep.”

  “What grade are you in?”

  “I’m a senior.”

  He stops walking for half a second and looks at me, brows curiously pulled together before he keeps walking. “Okay. I’m a senior, too.”

  “I know it’s weird,” I say with a sigh. “It�
��s my parents… they decided to send me here for no reason because it’s only a few months until graduation.”

  “Where did you go before?”

  “I was homeschooled. Private tutor.”

  “Cool.”

  “Yeah, it was cool,” I say, clenching my jaw as I remember the good old days, aka-last week. “My parents are the worst.”

  “So let me tell you about Shelfbrooke,” Declan says, putting on a cheery smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “We’re co-ed, and we have a long history of being rugby and lacrosse champions. Our mascot is the Black Knights.”

  “Sports are boring,” I say. Mainly because I don’t have anything else to say and I’m still so fuming mad about my mom that I can’t think straight. I just want to pick a fight. I want to tear someone down.

  “Right, well, we have other things too. There’s five hundred acres and many of them are gardens. Shelfbrooke is famous for them.”

  I roll my eyes. “Boring.”

  He takes a deep breath and tries again. “So over there is Kellylynch Hall. That’s where your classes will be. If you have your schedule on you, I can show you where all your classes are.”

  “I’m not an idiot,” I say. “I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

  “Right,” he says. “So the dining hall is over there, and they have pretty good food. Dinner starts around six p.m. Oh, and phones are allowed. That’s a fairly new rule.”

  “Thank God,” I say, touching my pocket where my phone is. “I don’t think I could survive without it.”

  “Most people can’t. Also, they’re addicted to Knight Watch.”

  “Knight Watch?”

  “It’s the school’s own social media app.”

  I roll my eyes. “Lame.”

  I can tell my constant complaints are bugging him, and I kind of like it. It’s almost fun to say something sarcastic after everything he tells me. Deep down I know I must be a terrible person, but I’m so angry any my parents for making me go here that I just don’t care right now.

  Declan shows me around more of the school and tells me about their stupid rules. Curfew is at nine on weekdays and ten on weekends. Um, what? That’s so lame.

  “Don’t worry,” he says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jumpsuit. “The popular kids tend to disregard the curfew and get away with it.”

  I grin. “You think I’m popular?”

  His hair falls in his eyes and he shakes it away as he looks at me. “You’re exactly the type of girl who gets popular at a place like this.”

  My lips press together as I look him over. “I like you, Declan the janitor.”

  “Gardener,” he corrects.

  I roll my eyes. “Same thing.”

  Declan nods. “Yep,” he says, exhaling a sarcastic sigh. “They are exactly the same thing.”

  He stops at the large building in front of us. “This is Stratford Hall. It’s the student dorms. Each grade has its own floor, so you’ll be up on the fourth floor. I can take you there now if you know your room number.”

  “No, I’m actually staying in the staff dorms,” I say. He gives me another look, like he just can’t quite figure me out.

  “I’m sharing a room with my cousin,” I explain. That doesn’t take away any of his confusion.

  “I’ll show you Stratford Hall anyway, because there’s also the student common area so you’ll probably spend a lot of time in here. The ground level is the common area. There are study rooms, and couches and televisions and stuff. It’s where we spend our time when we’re sick of our roommates.”

  “Roommates?” I say. “You have more than one?”

  “There’s three of us in our dorm.”

  I make a gagging sound. “Oh my God, I would drop out if I had to share a tiny room with two other people.”

  He doesn’t say anything. He just holds open the door to Stratford Hall. Inside, I see the common areas in all their glory, and I am not a fan. There aren’t too many students in here, but they all look at me like I’m something they scraped off the bottom of their shoe. What the crap is that? I’m Sophia Brass.

  “These people could show some respect,” I say after the tour of the dorm building is over.

  “What do you mean by that?” Declan asks.

  I shrug. “Everyone was looking at me.”

  “You’re the new girl. They’re going to look.”

  I shake my head. “No. Not like that. They were looking at me like—like…”

  “Like you think you’re too good to be here?”

  My jaw flies open. “Um, rude.”

  He shrugs. “That’s the vibe you’re giving off.”

  “Well maybe I am too good to be here,” I snap. “This school is stupid. Tiny dorms and ugly uniforms, and they make you work a job here like some kind of loser.”

  Declan’s jaw stiffens.

  “No, I’m not insulting you,” I say, trying to backpedal. “I’m just…”

  “Insulting me,” he says, finishing my sentence for me. “I actually don’t think I’m a loser for working here. I like it. I want to work here. It’s a privilege to tend to these famous gardens.”

  I roll my eyes. “No one wants to work.”

  He snorts out a laugh. “Is this your first time leaving whatever ivory tower you were born in and joining the real world?”

  I can’t believe he just snapped at me like that. Most people don’t have the nerve. I stare into his deep blue eyes, my jaw set. My body ready to pick a fight and tear him down. I can make fun of him for being poor a thousand times over. But I have nothing else to say to insult him. He’s gorgeous. I can’t poke fun at his height or his ears or anything. Declan is absolutely perfect. And that makes me dislike him even more. Gorgeous guys throw themselves at me. And the ones who don’t, can’t be trusted. Declan is definitely not throwing himself at me right now.

  I decide to ignore his commentary. I don’t want to get caught asking stupid questions on my first day of school tomorrow, so I figure I should learn all I can from him now. I point to an older building that’s off in the distance. “What’s that?”

  He peers in the direction I’m pointing. “That’s Kingsbere Hall. It’s mostly abandoned… you won’t have classes there.”

  “Mostly abandoned?”

  He shrugs. “The rich kids have secret parties in the basement.”

  “Cool,” I say.

  “You’d have to be invited.”

  I fold my arms across my chest. “Of course I’ll be invited.”

  Two girls in Shelfbrooke uniforms walk by. They look like freshman, or maybe sophomores. “Hi Declan,” they both say at the same time.

  “Hey,” he says, giving them a friendly wave.

  The girls giggle and wave, picking up their pace as they walk by. I can’t say I blame them. I would totally crush on Declan if I was fourteen. But now I’m almost eighteen and I know way better than that.

  “So, is the tour over?” I ask.

  His tongue slips over his bottom lip as he thinks, his gaze sweeping across the campus. “I think so. Do you have any other questions?”

  I shake my head. “Lame school, stupid rules. There’s not much else I need to know.”

  Chapter Six

  Before I go back to my dorm, I wander around the back of the building and to a little courtyard that’s lush and green despite the cold weather. There’s a concrete fountain in the middle with water sprinkling out of it. I glance around to make sure I’m alone and then I call Viv. It feels so surreal being here, and it’s only been a few hours, and I have no idea how I’ll survive. I may not like her that much, but I need Viv. I need a familiar face to tell me it’ll be okay.

  The phone rings and rings. She doesn’t answer.

  I hang up when her voicemail picks up because I’m pretty sure I might start crying if I try to leave a message. I really, really, really don’t want to be here. A few minutes pass, with me standing near the fountain trying to look normal, but Viv never calls me back.


  Finally, I give up and walk back to the staff dorms. I didn’t truly explore that building the last time I was there. I just know it’s long and narrow, with one main hallway and rooms on one side. Maybe there’s also a common room, or a teacher’s lounge or something. But I guess they wouldn’t let me hang out since I’m a student.

  Reluctantly, I walk back inside and to dorm room number 62. The door is locked when I turn the handle. I tap on it. “Belle? It’s me.”

  She opens the door, her round eyes looking all around me.

  “I’m alone,” I say.

  “Good.”

  She locks the door back.

  “Is there a reason you keep the door locked all the time?”

  “Obviously there’s a reason,” she says, padding across the tile floor in her plaid house shoes. “It’s to keep us safe.”

  “Is the school a dangerous place?”

  She gives a noncommittal wobble of her head as she drops onto her bed, her focus shifting to her open laptop.

  Whatever. I begin hanging up the uniforms in my closet, and I make my bed with the sheets Belle lends me. She gives me one of her many pillows, and I thank her, and then I sit on my mattress and open up my laptop. I order all new bedding and use my credit card to have it shipped here as fast as possible.

  There’s a loud knock at the door and my cousin jumps, her laptop skittering across the bed. “Who is it?” she whispers. “Did you invite someone?”

  She’s somehow managed to turn a shade paler than usual, which I didn’t think was possible. The girl’s skin looks like she’s never been outside. Her eyes are wide and I can practically hear her heart pounding in the silence that follows.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing,” I say, getting up and walking over to the door.

  “Wait!” she whisper-yells. “Use the peephole.”

  Frowning, I push back a dark scarf that’s been thumbtacked to the door, revealing a peephole hidden underneath it. “Yay!” I say, stepping back and throwing open the door.