Empire High Untouchables

by Ivy Smoak

  Empire High Untouchables

  Empire High Book 1

  By Ivy Smoak

  Copyright 2020 Ivy Smoak

  All Rights Reserved

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  CONTENTS

  Title

  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

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Temptation

  A Note From Ivy

  Chapter 1

  Friday

  The Untouchables. That’s what everyone called the Hunter and Caldwell brothers. At least, it was Kennedy’s nickname for them. And since she was the only one that talked to me at my new school, I took her word for it.

  The nickname probably came from the fact that they were exorbitantly wealthy. Old wealth. The kind that wasn’t flaunted around. But you could tell by the way they carried themselves. I watched the four of them walk past my locker.

  Or maybe the name just referred to the fact that they were so beautiful it was almost hard to look at them. James and Robert Hunter were classically tall, dark, and handsome. Mason and Matthew Caldwell were also tall and handsome, but their hair was lighter. It almost looked like it was spun from gold. The same gold as the Rolex watches hidden beneath the sleeves of their blazers.

  No matter the reason for their nickname, it was an ironic one. Because I’d only been going to this school for a week and I already wanted to touch them.

  The sound of a camera flash made me stop gawking and turn my attention to Kennedy.

  “What are you reading, Brooklyn?” she asked without looking up from the display on her camera. She was leaning against the locker beside mine, not at all phased by the Greek gods walking by. Maybe after a year I’d learn how to ignore them too. But right now I was finding it hard not to stare.

  I glanced down at the book in my hand. “Jane Eyre.” I slid it into my backpack along with the rest of the books I’d need over the weekend.

  “How depressing. You should read something a little more upbeat, don’t you think?”

  I laughed, but it came out sad and forced. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d really laughed. But Kennedy was right. I’d had to restart the book a few times already because my mind was having a hard time focusing on the words. Not because it was boring, but because it was hard to be consumed by someone else’s pain when my own was so acute. “It’s for our English class.”

  She looked up from her camera. “Then just read the CliffsNotes.”

  I stared at her. She was kidding, right? The only reason she was here was because she had a scholarship. And the only reason I was here was because my uncle was a janitor at the school and apparently family got legacy preference at prestigious academies like this. I was still on a GPA restriction though. We were lucky to be in the best high school in New York City. And even though I didn’t love this school or most of the snobs in it, I wasn’t prepared to start over. Again. So I wasn’t going to risk not reading for an assignment just because Jane Eyre was depressing.

  “I can’t. And I know you won’t risk a failing grade either. I doubt the public schools around here give you cameras like that for class. Or even have photography classes period.”

  Kennedy laughed. “I know, right? When I take pictures on our street I’m more worried about getting arrested for possessing such an expensive camera than I am of getting robbed.”

  “You should be worried about the latter too.” I’d only been in the city for a few weeks, but I was very aware of how unsafe it was. Sirens kept me awake at night. Not that I’d have been able to sleep anyway.

  “Honestly, I don’t think Mr. Thompson would even care. If I lost it he’d just give me a slap on the wrist and a brand new one. The benefits of Empire High.” She stepped back and lifted the camera to her face. “This time smile!”

  I shook my head. “I have to get home and make something for my uncle to eat tonight while I’m at work. Or else he’ll get takeout again.”

  She snapped another picture anyway. “And what’s wrong with takeout? My mom and I eat takeout whenever her shifts run late.”

  “It’s not good for you.”

  “You’re starting to fit into this school pretty quickly.” She hiked up her skirt the way the popular girls did. “Cheese curls?” She flipped her hair. “What on earth is a curl of cheese? I only eat locally sourced salmon that my personal chef prepares for me on a silver platter.”

  I laughed for real this time. “Cut it out.” And she wondered why everyone else at this school treated her like a social pariah. Not that I blamed her. She had too much charisma to stay silent like I did. It was one of the reasons why we’d become fast friends. Kennedy oozed confidence and strength. And I needed that. I needed her. Because most days I was finding it hard to even breathe.

  Kennedy flipped her hair again. “But like…I’ve never touched a knife before so how am I supposed to like cut anything? I pay people to do that for me.”

  “I’m sure they know how to use knives.”

  “I’m not so sure. But you can ask the queen bee herself.” Kennedy pulled her skirt back into place as Isabella walked down the hall toward us with her catty friends.

  “I can’t wait for the party tonight,” Isabella said loudly enough for us to hear. Probably to rub in the fact that we were not invited. Hell, I hadn’t even heard about it until this second. Nor did I care. I never had the luxury of attending parties at my old school because I worked all weekend. It would be the same here.

  Isabella’s heels clicked down the hallway. She was a senior at Empire High and she had all the notoriety of the Untouchables. But unlike them, she wasn’t respected. She was feared. At least by me.

  I concentrated on zipping up my backpack, waiting for the incessant clicking to disappear. I’d only had one interaction with Isabella. Barely. She’d caught me staring at the Untouchables during lunch. I really needed to break that bad habit before it got me in more trouble than just a sneer from her.

  The clicking of her heels finally stopped. Unfortunately, she stopped right in front of us. I looked up from my backpack.

  “There’s a hole in your shoe,” Isabella said to me. Or more accurately, she said it through me. That’s how it felt when she spoke. That she wasn’t really talking to you at all. Just at you. Her friends giggled.

  I glanced down at my sneakers, even though I already knew what she was talking about. There was a hole in the side of my Keds where the fabric was ripping away from the rubber soles. I had enough money saved to buy new ones. But my mother had bought these for me for my birthday a few years ago. And
any excuse to be closer to her was one I’d take.

  “Don’t listen to her,” Kennedy said. “She’s just jealous that her legs only look good when she wears sky-high heels and yours look amazing in sneakers.”

  Isabella snickered. “I’d look like a million bucks in cheap kicks. But this school is a little too classy for such things, don’t you think?”

  I tried to stand up a little straighter, channeling Kennedy’s energy. But I had nothing to say to Isabella. All I could focus on was the fact that my shoes weren’t cheap. To me, 50 dollars was hours and hours of work. To her it was probably a fraction of an allowance. If rich people even got an allowance. She probably just had a credit card with no limit.

  “You should just throw those ratty things out,” she said. “They’re hideous anyway. Trust me, I’m doing you a favor by mentioning it, darling.”

  My mother used to call me darling. But not in that way. My mother’s voice was full of love and warmth. God, I missed her. I felt tears welling in my eyes.

  “Well don’t cry about it,” she said with a laugh that dripped with disdain.

  She didn’t understand. How could someone like that understand? She had everything. All I had was a memory of my mother’s love that was growing more distant by the second, an uncle I barely knew that had taken me in, and a pair of beat-up sneakers that I clung to because I didn’t have anything else. But still I stood there. I stood there and took her cruelty because I didn’t want her to see me run away and cry.

  Kennedy’s camera flashed.

  “Taking pictures of me for your project?” Isabella asked. “How quaint.”

  “No, I’d never include someone with such a hideous soul in my project,” Kennedy said. “I just wanted to capture an image of you being intolerably you.”

  Isabella rolled her eyes.

  “Come on,” Kennedy said and pulled on my arm.

  I closed my locker and pulled my backpack over one shoulder. I heard Isabella and her friends’ laughter echoing around in my head as we pushed out the ornate wooden front doors of the school. Normally I loved when summer drew to a close and fall began. But the change of season was harder to detect in New York. Everything was concrete. There was certainly a chill in the air this afternoon, but I was pretty sure only I could feel it.

  “You know, one day I’m going to show Isabella this picture,” Kennedy said. “She’ll look back at this interaction and be ashamed of herself. One day she’ll regret being a bitch for no reason other than to be cruel.”

  Maybe. But probably not. I looked over my shoulder, hoping she wouldn't follow us outside and continue torturing me. Empire High was nestled between two skyscrapers. By being in such close proximity to those buildings, you'd think my new high school would be easy to overlook. But it wasn't. If anything it stood out even more with its old charm. The endlessly high set of stairs up to the entrance had been killing the muscles in my thighs all week. The entranceway was adorned with thick marble columns on either side of the doors. The letters branding the prestigious Empire High academy shone in the sunlight, and I was pretty sure they were real bronze. It looked more like a castle than a school. And whenever I walked up the steps I felt just as out of place as if I was walking toward a castle.

  “Just wait," Kennedy said. "She’ll see. One day you and I are going to be rich and we can serve her a big slice of humble pie. Because we won’t be ass faces like her when we have enough money to fill a tub with.”

  I didn’t respond. I used to want to be rich one day. Back when I was living in Delaware with my mom and we were barely scraping by. I thought money could have fixed everything. But when my mom got sick, all I could focus on was time. And not having enough of it. For so long that had been at the forefront of my mind. And I still felt it. A ticking time bomb waiting to explode. But hadn’t it already exploded when I’d buried my mother? When I’d moved here? When I started going to this school where I so blatantly didn’t belong? But still I felt the ticking. Like the next bad thing was about to happen. Another explosion when I was barely holding on from the first one.

  I watched the Untouchables drive off in James’ Benz. Despite Kennedy’s nickname for the four of them, everyone at this school knew that they weren’t the Untouchables. That title belonged to me. And the other scholarship students like Kennedy. We were untouchable. Because we didn’t belong here in their world. We never would.

  Chapter 2

  Friday

  “You ready to go?” Kennedy asked from the kitchen.

  I jumped, hitting the top of my head on a shelf in my closet. Ow. I was still getting used to the fact that she had a key to my uncle’s apartment. Not that I was mad about it. Her mom and my uncle were close because they'd been neighbors forever. And if it wasn’t for their friendship, I never would have been invited into Kennedy’s circle of one. Now two.

  She walked into my bedroom eating one of the vegetarian burritos I’d made for my uncle. “When are you going to decorate?” she asked after another huge bite.

  Despite her declaration of love for junk food, she didn’t seem to mind my cooking. “I don’t have anything to decorate with.” It wasn’t exactly true. I had tons of pictures. But most of them were of my mom and me. Right now I could barely think about her without crying. If I had to see her smiling face every day? I shook away the thought and finished pulling my hair into a ponytail.

  “I mean like posters and stuff, not fancy vases or anything. It looks like a guest room instead of your room. You gotta settle in.”

  “I’m settled.”

  “You still have boxes packed.” She nudged one with her foot. “I’ll print out some of the photos I’ve been taking for you. I mean it’s no wonder you don’t smile much. Reading Jane Eyre and having walls in such a basic beige color? I’d be sad too.”

  I gave her the best smile I could. Because we both knew it wasn’t the color of my walls or the book I was reading that made it hard for me to smile. And I loved her for not bringing up my mother. “You ready to go?” I asked.

  “Yup.” She was still staring down at one of the boxes. “Do you want me to help you unpack when we get back?”

  My first thought was to say no. But it was Friday night. Didn’t normal teenagers hang out with their friends on Friday nights? For just a few hours maybe I could forget. “That would be great.”

  “Awesome.” She tucked her arm in mine and guided me out of my small bedroom.

  “Thanks for getting me this job by the way," I said. Kennedy worked for a catering company and had hooked me up with the gig. My uncle insisted that I didn’t need to work. But I’d shown up unexpectedly on his doorstep a few weeks ago and I didn’t want to put him out more than I already had. So I was going to help pay the rent whether he wanted me to or not.

  “Don’t thank me yet. It’s basically an extension of school. Walking around with trays handing out appetizers I can’t pronounce to the city’s elite. Plus there aren’t any tips. But I swear it’s better than waitressing. Waitressing in New York is awful because everyone waitresses here. From aspiring actors to writers and everything in between. The turnover is insane. Before I got this job I’d worked at a dozen restaurants. I hate being expendable.”

  “Trust me, you’re not expendable.” I, for one, wouldn’t know what to do without her.

  She squeezed my arm as we made our way outside. The air was definitely growing chillier by the day. We huddled together and wound our way through the crowded sidewalks. We barely knew each other but I was already comfortable with our bouts of silence. I felt closer to her than I had to any of my friends back in Delaware. Maybe because instead of being there when things got hard, they just stared at me like they pitied me. And Kennedy knew what loss felt like. My uncle had told me she’d lost her dad when she was little.

  “Are you going to tell me about the sneakers?” Kennedy asked. “Because I saw some more shoes in one of your unpacked boxes. Without the holes.”

  “My mom gave them to me.” I kept my voice even
. I’d already gotten emotional once today and I needed to strengthen my resolve.

  “Well, I think they’re cute.”

  “Thanks.” It was the perfect opportunity for her to ask more questions, but none came. I was pretty sure her mother had given her the low down and told her she wasn’t allowed to ask. But if I was going to talk about it with anyone, it would be Kennedy. “I miss her,” I added.

  “I think remembering is better than missing.”

  I’d heard “I’m sorry” more times than I could count. But never that. Only someone else who lost a person so significant could understand. “What do you remember about your dad?” I asked.

  “Who knew your uncle was so gossipy?” she said with a laugh. “He’s always so quiet.” She looked up at the sky. “My dad and I liked to watch the clouds together on the roof of the apartment building. And he always smelled like cigars. I love the smell of cigars even though I hate smoke. I smile so hard whenever I smell them. Do you remember your dad at all?”

  “No. I never knew him. My mom said he left us as soon as he found out about me.”

  “What a dick. Well, your uncle is the complete opposite. He’s the kindest man I know, even if he is a little gossip. You’re lucky.”

  I didn’t feel lucky. I barely knew him at all. But he’d let me live with him when I had nowhere else to go. That was kindness if I ever saw it. I needed to make more of an effort to get to know him. I added it to my endless mental list of ways to not be a nuisance to him. “So what’s the party we’re catering tonight?”

  “Some old rich guy’s birthday I think. Who cares. In three hours we get to have a girls’ night.”

  We stopped outside a hotel I’d never heard of. I went to walk inside, but Kennedy tightened her grip on my arm.

  “We have to go around back,” she said.

  I laughed, but stopped when I saw her face. “Are you serious? Like…the servants’ entrance?”

  “No. Like the staff entrance. What era are you living in, the early 20th century? Come on, I’ll show you.” She pulled me past the hotel and down a dingy side street. The unseen side of the hotel looked practically run down. A rusty door stood ajar, allowing a cool breeze into the unairconditioned staff entrance.