by Sable Sylvan
Before Addy could hit the stairs, Sage had pulled her up and into his arms, her back against his left arm, her legs under his right arm. Her arms instinctively wrapped around his firm left upper arm. Sage carried Addy down the stairs and gently put her down on the ground.
“Okay, so the heels are a no,” said Sabine. “Mirror.”
Martha rolled over a mirror and Addy looked at herself. She was wearing a dress that made the first dress she’d tried on look like garbage. This dress was black, the lining red, and the lace overlay of the dress a charred ashy color with magma-colored rhinestones peeking out. That made her look red hot.
“Okay, so that’s a good look for you,” said Sabine.
Addy looked at the other person in the mirror. Sage wasn’t looking at himself. He was also looking at her. Was the mirror playing tricks on her eyes, or was she holding Sage’s hand? She looked down and to the left. Her hand was firmly nestled in Sage’s. She pulled, and it came loose.
“Sage, you and Addy both look good in that black and gray combo, very chic,” said Sabine. “Thanks. You two make a handsome couple.”
“Oh, we’re not a…” started Addy, but she interrupted herself with a vision of herself and Sage wearing those same clothes somewhere else, perhaps a ball, another engagement party, perhaps their own? She shook her head. No way. No frikkin’ way. That wasn’t going to happen.
“Oh, well, you can see why I naturally assumed,” said Sabine. “My apologies.”
Addy pulled away from Sage but it was too late. She could wriggle out of his grip, but she could never wiggle out of the grip that he had on her imagination and Addy wasn’t sure if she wanted to. Sabine had judged all the things that Addy had tried on that day harshly but fairly, so maybe Sabine was right when she said Addy and Sage looked good together. The only question was, could they feel right together…and would Addy give herself a chance to find out?
Chapter Two
The day after Addy and Clove visited the stylist, they were off to the Bonimolean. Bonimolean was a few hours outside of London, accessible by train or by car, and Addy had chosen the train, as the London countryside was known for being especially enthralling when viewed through the windows of a private rail car. When they reached Bonimolean Station, a black town car was waiting for them. A third-party service was handling their luggage.
The car drove by the university quad, where there was a table with a banner reading ‘Welcome Transfer Students.’
“Is that where I need to go?” asked Addy.
“No, that’s for students moving into other dorms,” asked Clove.
“Other dorms?” asked Addy. “I thought I was going to be put in House Austen.”
“The women’s dorm?” asked Clove. “Oh. That’s being renovated this year.”
“So what, I’ll be put in House Brontë?” asked Addy.
“Uh…no,” said Clove. “Did Herb not tell you? It’s tradition for the Scovilles to be put in a certain dorm.”
“No, I wasn’t told that,” said Addy. “And I’m not a Scoville.”
“Yes, yes, but the point is, you’ll be treated like one,” said Clove.
“So what, I am in the same dorm as you?” asked Addy.
“More like…well, you’ll see,” said Clove. “This is us.”
The car stopped, and Addy and Clove got out.
“Do you know where my room is?” asked Addy.
“Yes, just come this way,” said Clove, shaking his head. Addy really had no frikkin’ idea? What game was Herb playing, and why did Clove have a feeling he’d get involved in the mess?
Addy followed Clove into the dorm. The dorm had a standard collegiate gothic style. Portraits of famous alumni lined the walls, and Addy noticed something. The portraits were all a certain style. Famous shifters often had paintings made that included their shift…and most of these paintings were of polar bear shifters.
“Clove, what did you say the name of this dorm was?” asked Addy.
“Welcome…to House Scoville,” said Clove, leading Addy up the final set of stairs and opening the door.
The view was breathtaking. There was a set of large windows overlooking the campus quad. The windows were lined with window seats that were wide enough to fit a twin mattress. The room was ornately decorated. It was as if Addy had stepped into Victorian England and brought with her all the comforts of modern day America.
“This is my room?” asked Addy.
“No, this is just the living room,” said Clove. “This way.” Clove led Addy over to a room and opened the door.
Addy looked inside. The bedroom was just as big as her room at Mesquite Manor! It hadn’t been decorated yet, but there was a bookshelf, desk, nice office chair, big leather armchair, and a king-sized bed.
“Your bathroom’s accessible via the living room,” said Clove. “It’s so the staff doesn’t wake you if they need to clean while you’re asleep.”
“There are cleaning people?” asked Addy. “This is insane. So, do I have this all to myself or do I have roommates?”
“You have roommates,” said Clove. “This is the Scoville Suite, after all.”
“The Scoville Suite? Does that mean what I think it means?” asked Addy.
“This was Herb’s room before he graduated,” said Clove. “All the rooms are equally sized, so I didn’t swap into Herb’s room after he graduated. I have a room across the way. The room next to yours is Basil’s, but he’s in Brazil this semester.”
“And who is in the fourth room?” asked Addy, folding her arms. “Is Mason here?”
“He’s in Oslo this semester,” said Clove. “He pissed off Grandpa Morten, and he’s being supervised closely. He took all his stuff out of Herb’s old room and brought it back with him. I think it was supposed to be some kind of a statement.”
“Please say you have a cousin,” begged Addy.
“I do, but she’s on another floor,” said Clove. “You already know the fourth roommate.”
“Please, please say it’s not true,” asked Addy.
“It is,” said Clove. “Sorry, Addy. You’re living with Sage. And when I say living with…I really mean ‘living with.’ I have to finish up my thesis.”
“I thought you got that done over winter break,” said Addy.
“Yeah, the first draft,” said Clove. “I’m going to be in the library or my room with headphones on. I won’t have a lot of time to show you around, but we can get meals. We do have to eat, after all.” Clove’s stomach rumbled.
“Where do we get food on campus?” asked Addy.
“Downstairs, in the dining hall,” said Clove. “Each dorm has one. You can visit any dorm you want for food, but most people just go to the dining hall in their dorm out of convenience. It’s going to be packed tonight because classes start tomorrow.”
“How do I get my schedule?” asked Addy.
“I’ll set you up on your computer tonight,” said Clove. “I’ll get you all the bookmarks you’ll need and everything. Oh. Books are delivered to the dorms automatically based on what classes you picked, so we don’t have to worry about that.”
“So, everything here is taken care of for you?” asked Addy.
“Bonimolean does a lot, but the one thing they can’t do is find shifters their fated mates,” said Clove. “Although the students do their best at handling that themselves. You ready to head downstairs?”
“Yeah, my dogs are barking and my stomach’s growling,” said Addy.
“Then we’ll take the lift,” said Clove, walking over to the last room. He used a key in the door and in a few seconds, the door opened, revealing an elevator.
“There was an elevator here the entire time?” asked Addy, folding her arms. “Why didn’t we just take this before?”
“Are you saying you didn’t like my tour?” asked Clove. He gave Addy a set of keys. “These are your dorm and elevator keys. Don’t lose them.”
“Got it,” said Addy.
The door opened onto a crowde
d hallway. The students in line for dinner looked like they were going to a frikkin’ ball. They were all dressed to the nines! Addy could see why Sabine had insisted on having her wear one of her cardigans, dresses, and kitten heel outfits that day. She didn’t stick out as much as she would have otherwise.
Clove led Addy through the crowd and into the main dining area. The students waiting in the hall weren’t waiting for seats. They were waiting for their friends.
That’s when Addy saw the one person she hadn’t wanted to see: Sage. He was sitting at a table with two girls, one with olive skin and black hair, the other with thick curly hair and deep skin. Typical bad boy playboy stuff.
Addy took an empty seat and Clove took the other.
“Sage, you already know Addison,” said Clove. “Addison, meet Georgina Rossetti and our cousin, Minerva Scoville.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” said Georgina. She had an accent that Addy recognized as Italian.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well,” said Addy. “Hello, Minerva.”
“Girl, give me a hug,” said Minerva, getting up from her chair and walking over to Addison. “You’re frikkin’ family!”
The American accent threw Addy for a loop. She stood to hug Minerva.
“Hey,” said Addy, squeezing Minerva back. Minerva had a plush figure like hers, and she knew how to give a heck of a hug.
Minerva pulled away and held Addy’s arms by Addy’s sides, looking up and down over her body.
“Good,” said Minerva.
“Good what?” asked Addy.
“We need more curves in this frikkin’ family,” said Minerva, crossing her arms. “These Scoville men have never gone for the skinny minnies…and that’s coming from me, Minnie ‘Anything But Mini’, ‘Bigger is Better’ Scoville.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Addy thought she saw Georgina’s smile fall, but when she looked again, Georgina was smiling. Addy must’ve been seeing things. How could this girl dislike her if they hadn’t even met before?
“Oh, no offense, Georgina,” said Minerva. “Addy, Georgina’s a model.”
“Oh, really?” asked Addy. “No offense, sorry! I don’t follow fashion.”
“Did Sabine give you that outfit?” asked Minerva.
“Yeah, is it that obvious?” asked Addy.
“Addy baby, I do my own shopping. Sabine has good suggestions, but I don’t do everything she says…but trust me, if it weren’t for her, Clove would be wearing a garbage bag with holes cut out for his neck and arms,” said Minerva, taking a sip of her Earl Grey tea. “No tea, no shade, no pink lemonade.”
“No ‘shade’ taken,” said Clove.
“I’m sure we’ll be fast friends,” said Minerva. “I’m on the hall below you. Frikkin’ Basil wouldn’t let me take his room even though he’s in Brazil. Don’t be a stranger. You knock on my door. We can play dress up. I’m sure we’re the same size. After all, that Scoville Ball is coming up!”
“The Scoville Ball?” asked Addy.
“But of course,” said Georgina. “It is the event of the season…every season.”
“Ugh, that’s the last thing I want to hear about,” said Sage.
“But why?” asked Georgina, stroking Sage’s bicep. Addy saw red for a second and then shook her head. What the heck was that? Why would she be jealous of this paper-thin waif touching a man she didn’t even want?
“My grandfather’s been riding my ass about the ball,” said Sage.
“I’m lucky I got out of it this year,” said Clove. “What with my thesis and Abby’s thesis…”
“We’ve heard about the thesis approximately a million times,” said Sage.
Addy couldn’t help but laugh. It was true. Clove and Abby had only talked about their thesis day in and day out in the days after Christmas. It had somehow managed to be worse than if they’d been all lovey-dovey in front of everyone.
“Laugh while you can,” said Sage. “I’m sure Morten’s going to expect you to make an appearance, too.”
“Wait, what?” asked Addy. “Ugh. I guess I owe it to the Scoville fam. I just have to go over to Norway for a night, right?”
“With a date,” said Georgina, touching Sage’s arm.
“Exactly, which is why Morten’s been riding my ass about the ball,” said Sage. “I have to find a date for the ball, and soon, or I’m going to have to go with someone he picks.”
“Wait, Morten will pick our dates if we don’t find them ourselves?” asked Addy.
“Typical Morten,” said Minerva. “I’m glad I lucked out in the grandpa department. Erik’s chill as heck. He just wants me to go and say hi to his brother, give him some kinda gift. It’s about to be a smörgåsbord of hot single shifter butt.”
“You mean a koldtbord, right?” asked Sage.
“Says the isbjørn Viking treating his kamerat av skjebne like a kald fisk,” said Minerva.
Sage gave Minerva a look Addy couldn’t interpret.
“Minerva, how are you related to Clove and Sage?” asked Addy, changing the subject to break the tension.
“Oh, gosh, so my grandfather was the delta of the Scoville Clan,” explained Minerva. “When Morten became alpha, my grandpa Erik became the beta.”
“Became?” asked Addy.
She saw Sage stiffen.
“Let’s not tell that story at the table,” said Clove.
“Anyways, so my grandpa and their grandpa, they’re brothers,” said Minerva. “While Morten handles Europe, my grandfather handles North America. My grandpa had three sons, and one of them is my father, the gamma, which means he got to do whatever the heck he wanted because he had no pressure. Anyways. My dad was down in Central America when he met the most gorgeous woman of his life in Brazil, my mother, Leticia. His mate mark proved they should be together, they got married, and he took her back with him to America. That’s where they had me.”
“I know I shouldn’t ask, but…are you…y’know?” asked Addy.
“Addy!” said Clove sharply.
Sage looked somewhat amused.
“Oh, yeah, you can’t tell?” asked Minerva. “Trust me. When I said I’m not mini, I’m also talking about my shift. My mom’s not a shifter, but I got my dad’s shift. I’m a Scoville Polar, as big and bad as the best of them. If you were a shifter, I’d invite you to go on a hunt with us sometime.”
“How can you tell I’m not a shifter?” asked Addy.
“Uh, duh, no paw marks,” said Minerva. “Well, don’t worry. I have lots of human friends.”
“Ha-ha,” said Addy. “Noted.”
“Are you going out to the back to school ball this weekend?” asked Minerva.
“Nope, I’ve got…” started Clove. “Well, you know.”
“I didn’t know there was a ball,” said Addy.
“It’s a ton of fun, you and Sage should come,” said Minerva.
“I’ve got something else going on that night,” said Sage. “But thanks, Min.”
“I guess it’s just the two of us,” said Addy.
“Perfect,” said Minnie. “Now, what the heck are we doing sitting here? We need to get some frikkin’ food!”
* * *
Addy woke up the next morning bright eyed and bushy tailed (well, metaphorically) and put her things into her backpack. While she’d been at dinner, her packages had been dropped off. Clove had set her computer up with all the bookmarks and tools she’d need at Bonimolean before he retreated to his room to work on, you guessed it, his thesis. Sage was luckily nowhere to be found, leaving Addy alone with time and space to decorate the room and make it her own. She’d set her room up just the way she wanted, gotten a good night’s sleep, and had time to grab a waffle and some tea in the dining hall before heading out early to explore campus and get attuned to her surroundings. When it came time to make her way to class, she put in her earbuds and bobbed her head to the beat. The last few days had been rocky, but at least she was looking forward to her class. ‘Honors English Liter
ature’ had a plain name, but it was the most famous course at Bonimolean, at least, among English nerds like Addy. They’d be covering all the greats, from Austen to Tennyson, with a focus on the 1700s and 1800s.
Addy walked into the classroom and couldn’t believe it. It was already packed to the gills. She smiled. It was good to be among people who also had her taste for fine literature. The only problem she’d have would be finding a seat!
She scanned the room looking for a chair. Only one seat was left, and she couldn’t believe who was sitting in the seat next to it.
How the heck had he gotten into her class?
Chapter Three
It was Sage. Of course. The one time Addy got something nice, a bad boy like Sage had to come in and ruin it.
Addy kept her earbuds in and walked to her seat. She lay her things out and finally put her phone away.
“Hey,” said Sage.
“Sup,” said Addy, keeping her eyes forward.
“You settling in nicely?” asked Sage.
“What’s it to you?” asked Addy.
“It’s just a question,” said Sage.
“And prison’s just a room,” said Addy. “Look. We’re stuck living together, and we’re stuck in this class together. Don’t make this any weirder than it has to be, Sage.”
“Whatever,” said Sage, rolling his eyes. His bear roared and told him to make it weirder, to make her see that yes, this was more than just a coincidence, that it was Fa—. Sage shut the bear up. This wasn’t the time. He had an elective to finish.
The professor entered the room. A portly man with a tweed jacket and leather elbow patches, he walked to the podium with a cane.
“Hello, class,” said the professor. “You already know who I am. I’m Professor Bingley, and I’ve taught this course since, well…since I put it together! The great thing about literature from the seventeen and eighteen hundreds is that there isn’t new stuff coming out, but what we do with it changes over time. These stories are timeless, but our interpretations of them can be as well…that is, if they’re sound enough. This year, we’re going to be doing things a little differently. As you probably know, every year, every student must give a presentation on a randomly assigned book. This year, we’re going to be putting together pairs of students, with the schedule given out in advance, and by advance I mean, now.”
