by E. M. Snow
“But … I didn’t apply,” I say for the third time. “I didn’t even know Angelview existed before I received your letter.”
“As part of a new diversity initiative, we’ve started reaching out to high schools across the country for recommendations of students they believe could prove successful at our institution,” he explains. “Yours was one of the top names on our list.”
What the actual fuck? “Really?” I squeak, and he gives a soft chuckle.
“Yes, you came highly recommended.”
I want to ask by who, but I keep my mouth shut. I am a good student and I was a solid athlete, swimming and boxing as much as I could before the accident. But that was all by Rayfort standards and the only thing Rayfort High is really known for is its football team and marching band. Compared to other, better schools, I’m likely average at best. Since average usually doesn’t get recruited for anything—and the fact I completed the second half of my junior year online—there has got to be a major mistake.
But this mistake is my ticket out.
My fresh start.
And I’ll be an idiot if I don’t take it.
So, when Anthony’s cheerful voice interrupts my thoughts to ask if I’ll be attending, I speak without considering that I might be fucking up.
“Yes,” I say, too excited to flinch at the desperation in my voice. I am desperate. And this is my chance to take my life back. “Yes, I would like to accept your invitation.”
2
“You can still change your mind, you know.”
Forehead crinkling, I focus my attention on Carley. She’s standing in the doorway of my bedroom, dressed in pale pink scrubs, watching as I finish packing what few belongings I have left. Her expression is weary, her big blue eyes dulled with worry. I offer her a reassuring smile and shake my head.
“We’ve been over this a million times. I’m not changing my mind. This is a good thing, remember? I’m going to get an amazing education, and when I graduate and become a rich bitch, I’ll buy you a big ass house by the Gulf.”
The corner of her mouth tilts up, but I can tell she’s still reluctant about my decision.
“You’ve just been through so much, Mal,” she says on a deep sigh before raking her teeth over her bottom lip. “I don’t want you to make any rash decisions.”
“This isn’t a rash decision,” I try to assure her for the thousandth time since I received my invitation to attend Angelview. “This is a fresh start and a chance at a future I could have only ever dreamed about before.”
It’s been a month since my acceptance letter arrived, and as summer began to wane, my anticipation began to grow. When I had first told Carley about the letter, she was naturally skeptical and wouldn’t believe it was real until she called the admissions office herself. Anthony assured her that my enrollment was legit, and my scholarship was guaranteed. The school would even pay for me to fly to California. When she had hung up the phone, she acknowledged that everything sounded on the up and up, but she was still hesitant about me going.
I’ve been working to convince her that this is a good thing, but I’ve run out of time. My flight to Los Angeles leaves in two hours, and as much as I want Carley completely comfortable with my choice to leave, her reservations aren’t going to stop me. She knows this already, but it doesn’t keep her from trying to get me to stay.
“You don’t know anyone out there,” she continues as I zip up my black duffle bag and move to grab my laptop from the center of my bed. “You’re in a delicate place right now, and you’ve been doing so well, living with me and going to therapy. What if this is too much of a change too soon, and you undo all the work you’ve done since last year?”
I sigh, twisting around to face her. “Carley, I appreciate your concern, and I love you, but I need you to trust me right now, all right? I can handle this. Please, please believe that.”
She lets out a huff of breath and looks like she really wants to say something more. After a long pause, though, her shoulders slump in defeat and she pumps her head slowly. “All right, all right. I trust you. I believe in you. I’ll always believe in you, Mal, you know that.”
I grin as relief washes through me. I really wanted her to be on board with this. Stepping over my luggage, I throw my arms around her and hug her tight.
“Thank you, Carley. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
She hugs me back, and for a split second, I do feel a stab of hesitation. I feel so warm and safe with her. More so than I ever felt with Jenn. There’s a piece of me, that little clinging scrap of my childhood self, that doesn’t want to give this up. It’s finally found someone who loves and cares for me, and it wants to stay with Carley. Carley is stable. Carley is familiar.
Carley has become my home.
But I know, in my soul, that I can’t stay here, even if I am almost three hours from Rayfort and the disaster I left behind because it’s still too close, and I’ll always be looking over my shoulder. I need to move on. I need to start over. I need to stop seeing flames and blood in my nightmares. I need to stop believing that every good thing that comes along in my life will be ripped away from me because I don’t deserve to be happy.
I need Angelview, and deep down, Carley knows I need it too.
We break apart, and my heart cries out, wanting to linger in her arms a little while longer. I need to get outside for my Uber, though, or I’ll end up missing my flight.
There are tears swimming in her eyes as she smiles at me. “Well, baby girl. I guess you should get going.”
I nod and reluctantly turn from her to get my bags. Part of me had expected this part to be hard, but I hadn’t realized it would be heart wrenching to leave this woman. She walks with me to the sidewalk outside the condo and insists on waiting for the Uber with me, refusing to let me out of her sight for a moment.
“I’m sorry I can’t take you to the airport myself.” I’ve lost count of how many times she’s apologized for this.
“You have a shift this morning.” I lift my shoulders in a half shrug. “It’s fine. I’m a big girl. I can handle the airport.”
She shakes her head and laughs, but her eyes are still shimmering. “I know you are, but I still wish I could go.”
I spot the silver Toyota Prius turning the corner down the street, heading our way, and I tug in a sharp breath. “I know you do,” I tell her quickly. “This isn’t the last time we’ll see each other, though. I’ll try and come home for Christmas, I promise.”
The Prius pulls up to the curb, and I give her a hug that’s so big it knocks the wind out of us both.
“Love you, Carley,” I murmur at her ear.
“I love you most, baby girl,” she whispers back, breaking away from me. “You call me when you get to the airport,” she orders as I load my bags into the back of the car. “And when you land. And when you get to the school!”
“Okay, Carley, Jesus!” I’m grinning like a fool as I open the car door. The driver glares at me, looking like he’s moments from yelling at me to either get in or fuck off. “I promise, I’ll call!”
She waves her hands. “All right, all right, I’m sorry! I’ll just … I’ll just miss you!”
“I’ll miss you too!”
“I don’t have all day,” the driver snaps.
I wave to her once more. The driver is still bitching and groaning about wasted time as I slide into my seat and shut the door, but I barely hear him as he pulls away from the curb because I’m too busy watching Carley until she disappears from sight.
I arrive in Los Angeles a little nauseous, but excited, nonetheless. My first experience on a plane was thankfully uneventful, but the landing was jolting, and my stomach is still an uncomfortable ball of knots. It doesn’t help that I’m nervous as hell to get to Angelview and LAX seems bigger than the whole town of Rayfort. Anthony had told me reps from the school would be at the airport to drive me to the academy, so I stop in a bathroom on my way to the baggage claim area to check my appearance.
/>
No surprise, I look like shit.
I’ve never been a supermodel—don’t get me wrong, I’m pretty enough, but I’m short and thin and I’m still keeping my fingers crossed that I’ll eventually make it out of a B-cup—but today I look particularly godawful. My dark hair is disheveled, and my face is pale, save the large red blotches on my upper cheeks and the dark circles under my ocean blue eyes. Usually, my eyes are my favorite feature, along with my full lips, but the irises staring back at me are almost … faded. Probably thanks to my lack of sleep last night.
Whenever I closed my eyes, I saw James, his hazel eyes accusatory, so I stayed up, pacing my bedroom and half-listening to my favorite playlist.
I pat my hair to try and tame the worst of the flyaways, then splash cold water on my face, leaving me looking a half step up from shit. Hopefully, whoever is picking me up understands that I was just on a five-hour flight.
With a dejected sigh, I grab my laptop bag and duffle and squeeze past a mom and her three kids to exit the bathroom. Making my way down to baggage claim, I gaze around in search of my ride.
It doesn’t take long for my eyes to land on a gorgeous girl and guy, holding a sign up with my name on it. They’re way too young to be working for the school, so they must be students, even though they’re not wearing uniforms. The girl is tall and slim, with boobs that look a little disproportional to the rest of her. Her hair is a short, platinum blonde bob and her makeup looks professionally done. If she were close friends with the Kardashians, I wouldn’t be shocked. Her expression is one of sheer boredom as she swipes at something on her phone with a ridiculously long fingernail.
The guy standing next to her is jaw-droppingly good looking. Like, he almost looks fake, he’s so handsome. He’s tall and has the kind of build that screams Captain-of-Every-Fucking-Sports-Team, with cut biceps straining the sleeves of his gray t-shirt and wide shoulders. He’s got a shock of thick red hair that’s styled in that messy, sexy, bedhead way. One of his hands is tucked into the pocket of his black jeans, which must be tailored. No off the rack pair would hug his narrow hips so perfectly. In his other hand is the sign. He’s gazing around the terminal with mild interest in his bright eyes, his foot tapping impatiently.
I cautiously approach the pair, feeling even more dowdy in my yoga pants and oversize sweatshirt with my messy hair and blotchy face.
“Excuse me,” I say hesitantly. “I’m Mallory Ellis.”
The girl drags her attention up from her phone, disbelief arching a perfectly plucked eyebrow. It matches the color of her hair, but no one has hair that naturally blond. I briefly wonder if the carpet also matches the drapes thanks to professional manipulation.
Do rich people do that type of shit?
“You’re the new kid?” she demands, raking her gaze from my sweatshirt to my white tennis shoes before her nose crinkles like she smells garbage. “Admissions has really lowered the standards.”
I gape, floored at her nerve.
“Don’t be a bitch, L,” the guy says with a wide grin as he gives me a onceover of his own. The interest that sparkles in their green depths makes my shoulders stiffen. “Give Mallory here some time before you show her your full cunt self.”
“Whatever,” the girl—L?—mumbles, her eyes back on her phone, her nude-painted talons clacking against the screen. “Let’s just go already. I have things to do that actually matter.”
The guy shakes his head, his attention turning full onto me. “Forgive her, she was raised by wolves. Literally. My name’s Gabe Carlson, and this delight is Laurel Vinderpick, president of the student counsel. We’re here to take you to Angelview.”
I nod. “I figured as much.”
She glances up again, her lips pursed like she’s prepping for a bitch-faced selfie. “Did you hear what he said?”
I blink at her. Does she think I’m stupid or something? “Yeah… you’re here to take me to the school. Thanks?”
Her mouth tumbles open. “Do you not know who I am? Vinderpick? As in Vinderpick Pharmaceuticals.”
“Ah, okay.” I fight not to roll my eyes at the entitlement rolling off her slim shoulders as the name clicks into place, and I realize that Gabe was right—she was raised by literal wolves, the kind that prey on the poor and sick. I’ve heard Carley mention Vinderpick before, and she’s never had anything good to say. “That’s the one that’s been in the news for price gouging insulin and allergy meds, right?”
Laurel scoffs and looks offended I didn’t offer to kiss her feet, then pissed.
I can already tell we’re going to H-A-T-E each other.
Gabe interjects before she can say another word. He points to the bag return. “You need to pick up your luggage?”
I try not to let my embarrassment show as I dip my head toward my feet and reply, “Nope. This is it.” I hold up my laptop bag and duffle. I have a backpack too, but it’s stuffed into the bottom of my duffle bag, because I didn’t actually need to use it.
I lift my chin in time to witness his reddish-brown brows shoot up toward his vibrant hairline. “Well, shit. That’s … damn, that’s just depressing.”
I want to tell him to bend over so I can shove the silver spoon further up his ass, but I hold my tongue. No point getting off on the wrong foot with both these jerks right away. I paste on a fake smile and make my voice sugary sweet when I reply, “Can we head to the school now?”
Gabe nods. “Your chariot awaits.”
Lame.
He doesn’t offer to help me with my bags. I wouldn’t have let him, but I don’t think it even crosses his mind to try and assist me. Laurel shoots me a disgusted look as the two turn to lead me from the airport and judging by the way her gaze keeps darting from side to side, I have a sneaking suspicion she doesn’t want to be seen with me.
It would probably shock her to know that the feeling is mutual.
There’s a large, black SUV outside at the curb, the kind of car that’s used in presidential motorcades. The driver is waiting for us, and when we’re about ten feet away, he opens the back door. Laurel and Gabe pile inside without pausing or acknowledging the uniformed man standing there. This is so natural to them, but I feel awkward as hell. I shoot the driver an apologetic smile.
“Thank you,” I say.
He nods and reaches out to take my duffle from me. “Welcome to Los Angeles, Miss Ellis.”
Dragging in a deep breath, I climb into the car and settle on the seat next to Gabe, clutching my purse and laptop bag to my chest. Soon, the vehicle rumbles to life and we’re pulling into the traffic flowing from the airport’s pickup lane.
Laurel is still clicking away on her phone, her long, tan legs crossed. Her skirt’s so short that I can see her lacy panties, and I look away in embarrassment, which earns Gabe’s attention.
“So, Mal … wait, can I call you that?” he asks, and when I lift a shoulder toward my earlobe, he rests his arm across the back of my seat and leans closer to me. “What’s your deal? How’d you get into the academy?”
Annoyed, I suck in my cheeks. “Good grades, I guess. How’d you get in? The crew team?”
“Angelview doesn’t have a…” Pausing, he offers me a lopsided grin. “You’re a smartass. I like it.”
“Or you just like her ass,” Laurel grumbles.
“The cuntiness is strong with you today,” he reminds her on a drawl. “Reel it in or our new classmate will think we’re heathens.”
“I don’t know why you care since we’re paying for this red-carpet rollout. She’s a charity case,” she sneers. “Part of that diversity initiative shit. The school thinks if they throw out more freebies to welfare kids, people will think we’re charitable.”
The skin along my arms prickles, and I curl my hands into fists and breathe through my nose to calm myself down. This chick’s a King Kong mega-mega bitch, but not worth losing my scholarship over.
Do not strangle the rude ass blonde in the fancy car.
“Ahhh, scholarship kid.” G
abe nods, as if that makes total sense to him. “No wonder you’ve only got the two bags.”
I release a steady breath. “Well, whatever got me here, I’m grateful for the opportunity. Besides, how many bags do I need if we’ve got uniforms?”
According to Anthony, mine will be waiting for me at the school.
“God, kill me,” Laurel mutters.
“So, do you like it there, Gabe?” I’m desperate to change the subject before she says something new that will leave me questioning my decision not to wrap my fingers around her neck.
“Yeah, Angelview’s all right.” He sighs, leaning his head back against his headrest. “Probably more impressive for you. Like a vacation or whatever from your own life. I just got back from the Mykonos, though, so school’s sounding pretty shitty right about now.”
I fight not to roll my eyes again. “Yeah, sounds really rough.”
Unbidden, he launches into an in-depth play-by-play of his entire summer vacation. He even goes so far as to tell me how many girls he slept with, and I want to throw myself out of the moving SUV and take my chances with the pavement. Laurel doesn’t help matters any. She stops ignoring me just long enough to start complaining about her dad’s new wife.
“I’m going to call ICE on that bitch again and get her ass deported,” she grumbles at one point, making my mouth fall open in shock. For a second, I’m sure she’s joking, but then she shoots me a dark glare and says through clenched teeth, “Get that stupid look off your face because you obviously haven’t met the bitch.”
Nope, but I’ve met Laurel and I can’t help but feel terrible for her poor stepmom.
Finally, we reach campus. It was really a short drive from Los Angeles to Santa Teresa, thirty minutes tops, but it felt like hours trapped in a car with two insufferable assholes. I practically leap from the Cadillac when the door opens, eager to get away from them.
“Hey, so Headmaster Aldridge wanted us to give you a tour—” Gabe begins explaining, but I interrupt him with a hurried shake of my head.
