Feisty
Midpark High: Book 1
Candace Wondrak
© 2020 Candace Wondrak
All Rights Reserved.
Book cover by Fionn Jameson at Milktee Studios Cover Designs
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Chapter One – Jaz
Chapter Two – Archer
Chapter Three – Jaz
Chapter Four – Vaughn
Chapter Five – Jaz
Chapter Six – Jaz
Chapter Seven – Archer
Chapter Eight – Jaz
Chapter Nine – Vaughn
Chapter Ten – Jaz
Chapter Eleven – Jaz
Chapter Twelve – Jacob
Chapter Thirteen – Jaz
Chapter Fourteen – Jaz
Chapter Fifteen – Vaughn
Chapter Sixteen – Jaz
Chapter Seventeen – Jacob
Chapter Eighteen – Jaz
Chapter Nineteen – Jaz
Chapter Twenty – Archer
Chapter Twenty-One – Jaz
Chapter Twenty-Two – Jacob
Chapter Twenty-Three – Jaz
Chapter Twenty-Four – Dante
Chapter One – Jaz
Nothing felt right, and I didn’t mean that in the angsty teenage everything sucks way. I meant it literally. The clothes Mom and I had picked up before coming here didn’t look right on me. They fit, yes, but beyond that they were too…weird-looking.
They were nice, of course. No stains, no stray strings on any sleeves or sew lines. The clothes themselves were decent, but they were almost too much. Too fancy, too poser-y. Not sure how fancy you could be when you bought your clothes at the second-hand store, though.
Mom had told me again and again it would be fine, that it was only the kids in movies who noticed stupid things like that, but I wasn’t so sure. The kids at Midpark were surely different than the ones I’d gone to school with before.
I stared at myself in the mirror, not liking the way the dress I wore looked on me. I was probably the only one awake in the house; Mom would still be asleep, and Ollie took some weird hours. That man constantly drowned himself in his work; Mom had told me he’d lost his family, but I had no other details.
Midpark was a rich high school. I was sure its students would somehow know I didn’t belong there. I might live in the school district now, but I shouldn’t be there—to which I’d say uprooting my entire life and moving across state lines one week after turning eighteen wasn’t what I wanted, either.
We had to deal with the hand life gave us, and for me and Mom, life constantly gave us shitty hands. She was of the mind that it was starting to look up; we had a nice roof over our heads, she had employment paying well enough that she could funnel some money away and save, and we would all start fresh.
Mom even made me change phone numbers, forbade me from giving my new number out to my old friends—not like I had many, but still. She was being paranoid, and I had no idea why.
Back to the matter at hand.
My outfit. I wasn’t really a dress-wearing type of girl. Time to change.
I eventually decided on a pair of ripped skinny jeans and a layered shirt, paired with a simple necklace. The pendant was a cross, but it wasn’t gold or sterling silver, so the metal was a bit tarnished. I liked the look, though. Made it feel more real.
My bag was packed with new school items—unused pens still with their caps, unsharpened pencils and notebooks with not a single line written in them. Felt like the first day of school all over again, and in a way, it was. Halfway through the year and I would be the new student everyone gossiped about.
Not looking forward to that, but with any luck I’d be able to fly under the radar.
Hah. Me, flying under the radar. Somehow, I didn’t think that would happen.
I did just a bit of makeup, curling my long black hair so it was wavy instead of bed-head kinky. Once it was a respectable time, once I was sure my mom would be up and downstairs, I zipped on some ankle-high boots, grabbed a jacket and my bag, and headed down.
Don’t even get me started on how huge this house was. A sprawling mansion with dozens of rooms. Living life to the extreme, I guessed. It wasn’t a wonder why Ollie needed a live-in maid to clean it. Mom always had odd jobs, but this was the first one she was actually excited about. Probably because she didn’t have to drive anywhere, and also probably because she thought it would be good for me.
Sometimes I was a trouble-maker. Sometimes I said and did things without thinking. Didn’t we all?
Yeah, get me away from all of that, and stick me into a rich, hoity-toity high school. Sounded like a great plan, didn’t it?
I found Mom in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. The smell of bacon permeated the air, and I slid onto one of the bar stools on the island, dropping my bag beside me as I basked in the heavenly scent.
Mom didn’t much look like me. If you took a look at her and then at me, you’d wonder just how we could be related. She had skin as pale as porcelain while mine was a bit darker naturally, along with blonde hair and blue eyes that I was constantly jealous of. Mine was a thick mess of black, and my eyes were the color of shit.
Or maybe that was just my jealousy peeking through.
I let out a sigh, catching her attention finally. She tossed a look over her shoulder, giving me a warm smile. “Ready for your first day of school?” A stupid question, because the answer should’ve been obvious.
“Nope.” I picked at a groove in the butcher block wood below me, wondering just what fresh hell I’d walk into at Midpark. Halfway through the year, there had to be drama aplenty. And with rich kids, I could only imagine what their particular brand of drama was like. “You know, I could be homeschooled.”
My mom threw me an icy glare.
“There are programs,” I quickly said. “So you wouldn’t have to do it.”
“No, like I’ve said a thousand times already, you’re going to Midpark.” She left her station near the stove, moving to stand on the other side of the island. Leaning her palms onto the wood, she whispered, “Think of it as the next step in your life. Midpark will be good for you. Maybe you’ll make connections. As much as it isn’t fair, the rich have opportunities normal people don’t.” She lowered her voice just in case Ollie came down the stairs at that particular moment, but he didn’t.
Making connections. Yeah, great. Wonderful. Somehow I didn’t think other high schoolers had to worry about connections and all that shit. I was just a super lucky duck.
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, and Mom went back to the stove.
Within minutes, the bacon was done, and she started cooking me up some eggs. She wasn’t the best cook in the world, but cooking for Ollie was a part of her daily duties, so I knew she’d get better.
Being a live-in maid to a rich guy…seemed a little weird, but I knew beggars couldn’t be choosers. Mom had bounced from weird job to weird job for the last eighteen years ever since having me, but if this could be a more stable environment for her, I’d do my best to adjust. How hard could it be?
I was nearly done with my breakfast when I heard Ollie’s footsteps coming down the stairs. He carried a black leather briefcase, and he set it on the counter near the coffee maker. He said not a word, but my mom leaped into action.
“Here, let me,” she said, hurrying to make his damned coffee for him, as if he was some helpless twat. “I could’ve had it ready for you, but you go in at different times every day.” It was true; we’d been here only a week, and I’d already noticed Ollie’s work hours were crazy.
Maybe he just didn’t want to be alone in this house anymore, or maybe the rich and semi-famous around here got into a lot of trouble and constantly needed his help. Oliver Fitzpatrick was the best lawyer you could get with money; it’s how he afforded this place and all of the stuff inside it on his salary alone.
“I figured I’d drive Jazmine on her first day,” Ollie spoke, using my full name instead of Jaz. Jazmine was so formal, so…ugh. I’d given up telling him he could call me Jaz. “You could get a head start in the living room.”
Right. Because Ollie was hosting some kind of fundraiser here, because the man already didn’t do enough work as it was.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew that man was just drowning himself in work, work, and more work so he wouldn’t think about the family he lost. Of course, I didn’t know all of the details, but I knew he’d lost them. I knew he’d had children and a wife, and they were gone. Asking for the details about it felt wrong, so I hadn’t.
“That would be lovely,” Mom paused, tossing a glance at me, as if waiting for me to agree with her.
Not going to happen. I figured I’d have to walk, since there was no way in hell I’d ever let my mom drop me off at Midpark in her ancient van on my first day—and because Midpark was too rich for busses. Driving with Ollie might shield me from the cool temperature outside, but that was…just awkward.
I mean, I didn’t really know the man well. I might be living in his house, but knowing him and living in his house were not two mutually coexisting things.
I kept my mouth zipped shut, knowing if I argued, it wouldn’t be good. I wanted my mom to be happy. I wanted her to have a stable life. I loved her, probably more than I loved myself. If there was one person out there I’d do anything for, it was her, hence me zipping my lips and giving Ollie a thankful smile even though he wasn’t paying any attention to me whatsoever.
By the time Ollie’s coffee was done, I had finished eating. I zipped up my jacket and threw my bag around my shoulders. Mom hurried around the island to hug me, enveloping me in her arms. I just stood there, taking it, because there was nothing else I could do at this point.
Make her happy. Be good. Don’t get into any trouble.
Seemed easy, but I knew it would be difficult for me.
“Make some new friends” were Mom’s last parting words to me as I followed Ollie through the kitchen. Make friends. Right. Because it was so easy, you could do it in your sleep.
Becoming friends with rich snobs…might be stereotyping, because I hadn’t stepped foot in Midpark, but kids like that were not the kind of people I wanted to be friends with.
Hey, maybe I’d be wrong. Maybe I’d walk through those doors and everyone would be nice and welcoming and all that. I could have nothing to worry about, just blowing everything out of proportion because it wasn’t what I was used to.
Or I could be right, and Midpark could be filled with snobby rich kids who’d rather turn their noses up at me than help me if I was dying.
The garage was attached to the house, and it held cars that probably cost more than I knew. I’d never seen Ollie drive anything but his big, black Mercedes-Benz SUV. I almost felt too dirty to touch it, which was ridiculous, because at the end of the day it was just a car and I was a person, but still.
Had to get used to feeling out of place, I knew.
I was the first in the car, Ollie climbing in shortly after he put his briefcase in the backseat. He hit the button on the vizor, and the garage door in front of us slowly opened. I tried not to stare at him too much; he was an older gentleman, maybe a few years older than my mom. If I had to guess, he was around fifty, or upper forties, at least. His black hair was greying, his eyes a tired blue.
Yet another lucky son of a bitch when it came to eye color.
Ollie kept to himself mostly when he was home. It wasn’t like we ate meals together. Mom made him his meal, which he usually took to his office upstairs. Mom and I ate at the dining table downstairs, sitting beside each other and wondering who in the world needed such a long table.
The rich, obviously.
The car was silent as Ollie drove us down the driveway, slowing to a halt to wait for Frank, the gate guard, to open the gates.
Yes. This mansion came with twenty-four-hour supervision. No sneaking out for me anymore, not that I snuck out often, but. Well, if I wanted to try it here, I’d have to get creative. Climb a fence or something.
The silence in the car was heavy as Ollie drove me to Midpark. The sun had barely risen in the east, and I would’ve claimed it was too early to do much of anything, but I’d been up for hours, so my mind raced. Had Ollie done this drive countless of times before? If he had kids, if that house had been his for long, surely he did. He wasn’t old enough to have kids that far apart in age from me.
My morbid brain wondered right then: were they dead? Did they die? Did Ollie hold a weight on his shoulders because he thought he was responsible?
As Ollie turned into Midpark High’s parking lot, I studied the parked cars we passed. A lot were probably faculty vehicles, but there was no way there were that many workers here. Probably two hundred cars scattered around the newly-built, modern building with an abundance of windows and cameras pointed every which way. Those fancy cars also belonged to some students here, the ones old enough to drive and have their license. I had mine, but no car.
We’d lived quite a few hours away from here, in a different state, but Midpark did ring some bells in my head. Something had happened here, something that captured the national news for quite a while. I didn’t really pay attention to the news, so I didn’t know details. Didn’t really care to.
Ollie pulled his car up to the front doors, and I glanced outside, at the other students chatting it up, already in their cliques, even though it wasn’t even seven o’clock yet. They wore brand-name jackets with the fancy gold designer names stitched in them, shielding their bodies from the cold but looking cool while doing it.
The girls looked cute all bundled up, their hair done and makeup perfectly blended. None had holes in their jeans like me. Even the guys looked like movie stars in the making—their faces, their clothes, the way they stood.
Well, that was nice. Suddenly I felt very potato-y. Maybe I should’ve gone with that other dress and some tights or something…did I even own tights? I was overthinking it. These kids probably wouldn’t look at me twice.
My stomach felt queasy. I didn’t want to go out there.
Joke was on me, though. I had to.
With a wave to Ollie, I unbuckled my seatbelt, grabbed my bag, and got out. Ollie drove off, and I stared past the kids outside, looking at the front glass doors. I would have to march in, go to the office, get my schedule and locker, and hopefully a map.
Yep. I was going to be the weirdo walking around holding a map because I didn’t know how to navigate the maze that was Midpark. Setting myself up for some mocking, but it had to be done. I could not be late to classes and disappoint my mom. No getting in trouble. No calls to the office. Just sit down and study like a good girl.
I held my head high and walked to the doors, the cold air whipping up a gentle breeze. Whether everyone’s eyes were on me or not, I didn’t notice. Tried not to, anyway. I might’ve made eye contact with one particularly cute blonde boy, but that was neither here nor there. I was sure I wasn’t the type of girl a boy at Midpark would ever want to bring home to meet his parents. Basically a maid’s daughter. If that wasn’t ammunition for ridicule in a pla
ce like this, I didn’t know what was.
The front office was right inside and around the first left corner. Thank God there were signs, otherwise I would’ve been wandering and looking even more a fool. Once I got my schedule and my locker combination—and a map—I was good to go.
Midpark wasn’t too confusing of a school. It looked like the cafeteria was smackdab in the center, and there was even some space where students could eat outside if they wanted. Since it was kind of chilly out, I doubted anyone would be outside. There were hallways for the sciences, for the literatures and languages, the maths, and all the electives my old school had to cut because it was too poor and none of the parents wanted to vote for a levy to increase taxes to fund those classes.
Yeah, my old school got rid of art and music and all that. I didn’t miss it much, though there were a few select people I did miss. It wasn’t like I could talk to them, though. The way Mom talked, it was imperative that we moved on completely from that place, wash our hands of it. I did get into a lot of trouble there, so I was trying to turn a new leaf. To be good. To be the daughter she wanted.
I got to my locker and opened it, shoving my bag in and taking out a few clean notebooks, along with my pencil pouch. You weren’t allowed to carry your bags to class. Just one of the many rules in this place. It was something I could understand, though; there were so many shootings in America, you never knew what someone could be hiding.
With my schedule resting on top of my notebooks and my map in my other hand, I started the first day of many I’d spend at Midpark High.
Things did not go how I expected them to.
Chapter Two – Archer
Here I thought today was going to be just another day. Another day when I smiled and pretended that everything was okay. Usually everything was okay, but sometimes it was hard to grin and bear it. I knew that’s what people had to do in life, but every day when I looked around, I couldn’t help but wonder if anyone else was saddled with the same burden I was.
Feisty: A High School Bully Romance (Midpark High Book 1) Page 1
