by Nissa Leder
Wicked Academy - The Magic Elite
Term One
Nissa Leder
Copyright © 2019 by Nissa Leder
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Thank you for reading!
Also by Nissa Leder
One
After tonight, freedom awaits. Well, maybe.
Tomorrow I head to college. Finally, after eighteen years in this house, I’ll have a little space from the constant pressure of being a Jacobsen. Then again, I’m headed to Wicklow Academy where my family has gone for generations, so all the expectations hanging above my head like some charcoal cloud are probably about to get worse.
Chatter fills our large living room as guests in expensive suits and party dresses talk in small groups. Fake smiles contort their lips as gossip disguised as concern pours from their mouths.
The lights are dimmed just enough to fit the ritzy vibe of our house, and strategically placed candles burn a fresh vanilla scent. No decisions have been made haphazardly.
I finish the glass of champagne in my hand as my gaze finds Zane Ballard talking to my mother. He says something to her before nodding in my direction.
When she glances at me, her brows tighten.
Tonight, my natural curls hang free, and I conveniently forgot to wear the dress she set out for me. Oops. This one is much tighter and lower cut than she approves of, but it’s too late now. I curtsy, earning me one of Mom’s infamous sighs.
She touches Zane’s shoulder then pulls him into a hug. Her blond hair is pulled up into an updo that probably took an entire can of hairspray. I doubt a single hair dares fall out of place. From the strategically cut slit in her dress to the platinum hoop earrings just the right size, she looks flawless.
Zane says something to her, then excuses himself.
He smirks at me and grabs two glasses of wine from a waiter’s tray. At least Mom doesn’t care if I drink at these types of parties.
Zane saunters over in a perfectly tailored suit, one shade lighter than black. “This might be the last time we see each other for a while.”
I take a glass of wine from his hand. “I guess so.”
“It was so generous of your mother to host this party for all of us leaving for school. Too bad you aren’t going to Bradford Academy with me.”
“She’s held events for less. Although, my brother’s send away didn’t go as she planned. I wouldn’t have blamed her for skipping mine.”
“Ahh yes, I remember that party. That was the night she found us making out in the bathroom.” He shakes his head side-to-side as satisfaction slides across his features. “I’m surprised I was even invited tonight.”
“I had to pinky promise to be an honorable hostess. Nothing but my best behavior.”
“Honorable, huh? That doesn’t sound like the Wren I know.”
“Is that so? And what exactly would the Wren you speak of be doing?”
“Something thrilling .” His gaze lowers, an expression I've seen many times.
“Something or someone?”
Zane eyes me up and down with his dark brown stare. His mouth opens slightly as it always does when he's horny. “Both.”
“Then I better go find your brother and see what he’s up to.” I pretend to scan the room.
He fights a grin. “Ouch. You know how to break a guy’s heart.”
“You can’t break something that doesn’t exist.”
Zane and I have hooked up off and on since the ninth grade, never more than a couple of weeks at a time. The chemistry between us is undeniable, but that’s about all we have going for us. Some flirty banter, or ripping each other’s clothes off in the guest house, both great. Actually having a meaningful conversation, not so much.
Dad interrupts us. He’s in a navy suit with a red tie, most likely picked out by Mom. She’s the meticulous one. Dad just goes with the flow. “I need to steal you for a while, Wren. There are a few people I’d like you to talk to.”
“Of course.” I leave Zane and follow Dad toward the entryway.
When I see where he’s leading me, I groan.
Elaine Astor and her father stand side by side in front of Mom’s favorite piece of art, some abstract painting she spent more on than most people pay for cars.
Elaine grimaces when she sees me. Her perfectly straight chocolate-colored hair is pulled half-up, and the high neckline and three-quarter length sleeves of her dress are surely something my mom would approve of.
“Charles and I went to Wicklow together when we were your age,” Dad says. “Our families have been friends for generations. I know you two weren’t close in high school, but you’ll appreciate having a familiar face at the academy.”
Elaine’s dad Charles dips his chin in agreement. “You ladies will both excel at Wicklow, I’m sure. The workload is rigorous, but I’m confident you’ll find the courses invigorating.”
“Studying isn’t really Wren’s thing. She prefers the social stuff. Although, having other girls as friends isn’t a strong suit for her either.” Elaine’s gaze meets mine. “I bet she’ll be quite popular with the guys, though. I’ve heard if you want to marry rich, college is the best place to find a man.”
“Elaine!” Her dad stares at her. “I’m sure Wren will adjust to the classes just fine.”
My expression remains still. Showing anger will only fuel her cattiness.
For years, Elaine and I were best friends. Growing up, our parents were always together. They went out to dinner at least three times a week, and every few months they’d go on vacation, leaving us kids with one of our nannies. My brother would have a friend over and go on a Mario Kart binge while us girls dressed up and pretended we were fashion models. Then, freshman year of high school, something changed. Suddenly, Elaine quit returning my calls and ignored me in the hallway. Since then, we’ve barely talked.
“Wicklow will bring out the best in both of you,” Dad says. “It’s in your blood.”
“Yet another cryptic clue about this place.” I shift my weight to my left foot, eager for this conversation to be over. “You and Mom both talk about this school like it’s better than all the other colleges in the country. It isn’t even an Ivy.”
Elaine smiles like she knows something I don’t. “The Ivys are overrated, aren’t they?” Her focus drifts to my dad.
“Tomorrow you’ll both be there to see everything Wicklow offers for yourselves. Now, we better find your mother, Elaine.” Charles glances at Dad like he’s apologizing for whatever Elaine said.
“What was that about?” I ask Dad when they’re gone.
Any time anyone in my family mentions Wicklow, they always make it seem so mysterious. All my parents and older brother will spill is that our family has gone there for generations and it’s super difficult to get accepted into. Which only makes it all the more myst
ifying. My grades were decent, but nothing special, and my SAT scores were slightly above average, at best. Neither big sellers when it comes to getting into a selective school.
But apparently my heritage is enough, and if Wicklow is as great as they all claim it to be, then I guess I’m lucky.
After Dad parades me around the party for an hour, I finally sneak away.
I find Zane alone in the library drinking straight from a bottle of wine. His tie is loosened and his shirt is untucked as he leans against a bookshelf in the back of the room.
“So, this is where the real party is.” I slide down next to him and grab the bottle from his hand.
“All the small talk got a bit boring.”
I chug the wine. “I’ll say. Dad keeps telling me how great college is going to be, but I know nothing about Wicklow. I don’t even have my class schedule yet. ”
“Tell me about it. I’ve walked in on my parents talking about some new regulation at Bradford Academy and when they saw me, they pretended they were talking about something else.”
“Parents can be so strange.” I laugh. “At least you aren’t going to college with your nemesis. Dad thinks Elaine and I are going to miraculously turn into great friends. Even after she had the nerve to imply the only reason I’m going to school is to find a man.”
“I don’t know about that, but I know you’re going to miss me.” He reaches out and places a hand on my thigh. “And the things I do to you.”
I tilt my head to the side and lean closer to his ear. “I’m sure I’ll survive.”
“I give it a week before you’ve found somebody to replace me.”
I pull away from him.“Please. I’m not near the horndog you are. I don’t need to hook up with someone all the time.”
“Well, let’s make it interesting then. I bet you can’t make it the whole first semester without sleeping with someone.”
My head falls back as I laugh. “And you think you can?”
“I can hold out longer than you.” The corner of his mouth curves upward. “Is it a bet?”
“What does the winner get?”
“One dare. They can make the loser do anything.” Zane extends his arm. “If either of us has sex with anyone else, we tell the other person immediately. No hiding it or lying.”
My hand grips his. “Deal.”
“Wren, are you in here?” My brother Beck steps into the library and shakes his head when he sees us. Like me, he has naturally curly hair, but he keeps his cropped to contain the waviness. “You better get back out here before Mom finds you. We don’t need a repeat of my going away party.”
I hand the wine back to Zane. “Duty calls.”
“Good luck at college.” He winks. “I’ll be sure to think up a worthy dare.”
“Brainstorm away,” I say before following Beck.
“So, why haven’t you told me more about Wicklow?” I ask as we walk to the living room. “Can I at least have a hint?”
Beck hesitates at the end of the hallway. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s even better.”
“Better how?”
“I guess you’ll just have to wait until tomorrow to see.” Without another word, he heads back to the party, leaving me more curious than ever.
Two
When I wake up late the next morning, slightly hungover from all the wine, a uniform is hanging in front of my closet. I roll out of bed and grab the note attached to the maroon plaid skirt.
Sorry we can’t see you off. Beck will escort you to Wicklow. Good luck.
Love, Mom and Dad.
A uniform? Really? One more thing to add to the list of strange things about Wicklow Academy. I thought I was leaving a dress code at my private high school. Apparently, not. But I’m not the least bit surprised that my parents are already gone. The older I’ve gotten, the less they’ve been around. It’s only fitting the day I leave the house to start my adult journey, they’re MIA.
A knock at the door pulls my attention. Beck lingers in the doorway, his arm resting above his head on the frame. He’s wearing khaki slacks, a maroon vest, and a striped navy tie. “You ready?”
I look down at my silk pajamas. “Yes, I’ve always dreamed of my first impression at college to be in sleepwear.”
“You have fifteen minutes.”
“Got it.” I shoo him with my hands.
After Beck shuts the door, I grab the uniform from the hanger. Plaid skirt, collared white shirt, and sweater vest. So much for college being the years of self-expression. Since no one has pre-selected footwear for me, I slip on a pair of heeled boots to add at least a little flair to this outfit.
With time on the short side, lipstick will have to do as far as makeup goes.
Beck is leaning against the black car waiting for us outside. He glances at his watch. “Two minutes to spare. Impressive.”
“Where’s all of our stuff?” Since I’m going to be stuck in a uniform most of the time, I might have gone a little overboard, but I’m hoping to get to wear some of the two suitcases full of clothes I packed.
“Already sent ahead to school.” Beck opens the door. “Now get in. We can’t be late.”
I don’t even know where this place is located, which, the more I think about it, really is strange. My entire life, I’ve heard about this fabulous school where my parents met. Dad even has a maroon and white pennant hanging in his office with the word Wicklow written in bold. But we’ve never visited its campus. Never gone to a homecoming game. I’ve never even seen one of its sports teams play on TV.
If it weren’t for the elaborate website online, I’d almost think this was some giant hoax.
“Why is everyone so secretive about this place?” I ask.
Beck types something on his phone. “Wicked Academy…is different than most universities.”
“Wicked Academy?”
He smirks as he reads a text before registering my question. “Oh, it’s just a nickname the students give Wicklow.” He responds to whoever just messaged him. “Just be patient, Wren. You’ll know everything soon enough.”
I fold my arms and let myself pout. Maybe it wouldn’t bother me so much to feel clueless if I wasn’t suspicious that Elaine knows something already. “Why does it have to be such a mystery?”
“I don’t make the rules. Just relax and everything will work out. Okay?”
“Fine.”
I lean my head against the side of the car and stare out the window. Although it’s difficult, I resist the urge to ask him how much further we have to go. That’s probably a secret too.
We drive east on Long Island, down the interstate past farmland and trees. The sun looms overhead like some tease of an omen, urging me to take Beck’s advice and stay optimistic. But I don’t like surprises. I never have. Something always ruins them one way or another.
Nearly two hours later, the driver parks the car in front of a pier.
“We’re taking a boat?” I ask as I open the door.
Beck is already out of the car, too far ahead to hear my question.
I catch up and walk with him toward the water. The smell of the ocean hovers around us, the air thick and salty. As we near the dock, the crowd of students, all dressed in uniforms like ours, comes into view.
“There you are,” a guy says, as he leaves the edge of the group and walks straight for us. Like my brother, he’s dressed in Wicklow’s uniform. The snug fit of the vest accentuates the broadness of his shoulders.
Beck extends his hand and the two shake, then give a typical guy hug.
“And who is this pretty lady?” the guy asks as he grins at me, dimples pressing into his stubbly cheeks.
“This is my little sister, Wren.” Beck glances in between us. “And this is my roommate, Kaz.”
“You never told me your sister was way more attractive than you.” Kaz takes my hand. “Nice to meet you, Wren.”
It takes me a minute, but I finally find my voice. “Hey.”
What is wrong with me? I’m no
t the least bit shy, so why do words suddenly feel so buried?
Kaz drops my hand. “That makes you a freshman.” He pinches his thumb and index finger together and pretends to zip his mouth shut.
A long breath pours from my lungs, releasing all the nervous energy suddenly ricocheting through my chest like a wild bird. “Right. Freshman is synonymous with clueless around here.”
“Not for long.” Kaz winks.
“Freshmen, please line up to load the ship,” a voice says over a loudspeaker.
“Guess that’s me.”
To the right of the crowd, students line up.
“See you later,” Kaz says.
I follow the line into the ship like some sheep herded into a pen. Or for all I know, to slaughter. At least that’s how all this secrecy makes it feel.
I turn to look for Beck or Kaz, but they’ve both disappeared into the crowd of upperclassmen. A few feet behind me, Elaine waits in line. She’s talking to the girl next to her. When she glances ahead, her gaze meets mine. A cold smile spreads across her face.
I’m used to her nasty looks. Although I hoped high school would be the end of all the drama that is Elaine, I’m not going to let it ruin my future at Wicklow. Whatever that future looks like.
We’re all led to the top floor of the ship where we give our names and are directed to one of two rooms. I’m sent to the furthest room, as is Elaine. Lovely. After passing the closest room, which already has at least 50 students in it, I’m surprised when only a few students wait in the second. When seven of us are inside, the door shuts.
A woman walks behind a podium at the far end of the room, which is just as large as the other room but much emptier. Why haven’t they split us up more equally?
