by L. A. Sable
“Who is it?” Chloe asks in an exaggerated way, as if she doesn’t already know exactly what’s coming out of Asher’s mouth next. The smile she casts me is reminiscent of a feral cat that’s just found a nest of baby mice. “Someone in our class?”
Other calls for him to reveal the identity of the “charity case” ring out through the room. Like any performer trying to work a crowd, Asher waits for the frenzy to peak and then subside before he speaks again.
“I think we should just let her introduce herself,” Asher responds with a sneer curling his lips. “She’s sitting right there. Goldie, tell us all about your summer.”
All eyes are on me, ranging from curious leers to open hostility. Charlie is the only one who seems even remotely sympathetic, but I don’t expect her to jump to my defense. That wouldn’t serve any purpose aside from painting a target on her back.
A dozen responses fly through my head. Part of me wants to run out the door and never look back, but I know that’s exactly what Asher is hoping I’ll do. I could also launch myself across the room and slap him across the face.
But I take the high road, even though my whole body is shaking with hurt and anger.
“My name is Lily Murphy. Not Goldie,” I say as I stand, proud of how little my voice shakes. The only thing I hate more than being the center of attention is public speaking, and now here I am doing both.
Part of me wants to crawl under the nearest chair and pretend I’m invisible, but they’re not going to lighten up on me if I roll over and play dead. I have to stand up for myself, or this will never stop. “Asher is right about one thing, I spent some time at his Grandfather’s house this summer, but that’s because his Grandfather married my mother.” I wait for the inevitable increase in the gasps and murmurs around the room at that revelation. “As far as his fears about me walking the streets, I think that was just a misunderstanding. Asher, here, is so used to paying for it that I think he forgot what the word no sounds like. It’s an easy mistake to make when every girl willing to give you the time of day is for sale. Unfortunately for him, I’m not.”
I sit down in the sudden silence. When I briefly glance at him, Asher looks like he’s been sucking on a lemon. Anger burns in his gaze but he uncharacteristically keeps his mouth shut. I might never understand the source of his hatred, but it’s still something that I have to deal with. Even if this little exchange is a shot fired across the bow of his ship, I tell from his face that the war is far from over.
Ms. Pitt looks even more flustered but tries to hide it. “Let’s move on. Everyone close their eyes and take a deep, calming breath.”
When the other students realize that the show is over, their attention returns to Ms. Pitt, who seems happy to have the class back on track. Even a grass-green substitute teacher at my old public school could handle a disruption better than this and I attended class with actual gang bangers.
But that’s the first lesson I need to learn if I want to survive at Black Lake Prep: nobody here is going to save me, but me.
Chapter 7
“I cannot believe you did that! You’re either a total badass or completely insane. Watch yourself, okay.”
Those are Charlie’s parting words as we leave homeroom at the end of first period. She’s going in the opposite direction. I try not to let the apprehension slow my steps as I head toward my next class alone.
The rumor mill is already going at a furious pace. A bunch of notifications have shown up on the Inner Circle for posts about the homeless girl who’s attending Black Lake Prep as a charity case. Or conversely, raving stories about the call girl who turned down Asher Bellamy. Asher’s little stunt has done its job and now everyone knows my name for exactly the wrong reasons.
Although some people must know the real truth, it doesn’t matter when the rumor is so much more salacious than the reality. Everyone wants to believe the lie, so they do.
I’ve already seen a dozen different versions of how I ended up here on the forum. In one, my mother is a conniving sex worker turned gold digger who manipulated an older man with dementia into marriage. In another, Carter Bellamy is the savior but only because he rescued Trish and me from the streets where she was selling her body for food. The most charitable version of the story sets it up like Pretty Woman, making Trish out to be a hooker with a heart of gold. In the worst, I’ve been selling my body too and Carter sent me to Black Lake to save me from myself.
Nobody seems to care that you can literally find the true story in the New York Post's wedding column.
I considered going on the offensive to set the story straight but Charlie insisted that was a bad idea. Her exact words were something like “you’ve already done enough damage, just keep your mouth shut.” She seems to think that if I can stay out of Asher’s way for long enough, he’ll forget how much he wants to make me suffer. But she doesn’t see in his eyes what I see.
Pure unadulterated hatred. That isn’t something you just get over.
But I’m so concerned with watching my feet eat up the marble floor that I don’t notice I’m about to run into a hard-muscled chest until we’ve already collided.
“Whoa, what’s your hurry.”
And then I look up into the face that I literally worshipped in middle school.
“Oh my God.”
Somehow Jayden Heart looks even more perfect in real life than he does in the magazines. Nobody’s skin should be that smooth or their eyes so bright that they seem to burn right through you, but here he is. Under any other circumstances, I’d be asking for an autograph but I’ve already internalized how completely removed I am from reality. Of course, there’s a Hollywood actor in school with me, why wouldn’t there be?
I don’t get starstruck, or at least that’s what I would have said if someone asked me five minutes ago. But this is the guy who played Zach Zachary, the everyday middle school math genius who becomes a super-spy while trying to maintain a normal life. Looking back, it sounds totally ridiculous, but I was completely obsessed with that show for every season until it was cancelled when I was in eighth grade.
Now Zach Zachary is staring down at me with a self-effacing grin that somehow makes his gorgeous face even more attractive. And he’s not even looking at me with the hatred and derision that I’ve seen on so many other faces at this school.
His dark curly hair is bleached blonde on the ends which would look stupid on anybody else but adds to his air of irreverent good looks. And the highlights perfectly set off the tawny brown of his skin that I just know would taste like chocolate if I ever got my tongue on it. But his most startling feature is the ice-blue eyes framed with black lashes that seem even more striking against the rich tone of his skin.
Now, he’s standing right in front of me.
What is wrong with me? My mouth is literally watering. I am a total basket-case and I need to get out of this situation fast before I make a complete fool of myself in front of my favorite celebrity crush.
Charlie had warned me that Jayden Heart was attending Black Lake Prep, and I’d seen his picture for myself on the Inner Circle. But I hadn’t actually believed he'd be here, not until the moment he’s standing right in front of me.
“You good?” he asks, and I can hear laughter in his voice, though it’s not malicious. “You didn’t knock your head too hard, did you?”
Maybe my head did hit his rock-hard chest hard enough to rattle my brain because the next thing out of my mouth is the stupidest question imaginable. “Do you know who you are?”
Jayden Heart’s smile widens then he makes a big show of looking around him with suspicious eyes. “I think so, unless you know something I don’t.”
The hallway is clearing as people head to their classes, but I sense the curious eyes watching us. It almost feels like I’m on a red carpet and at any moment paparazzi are going to come flying around the corners to snap pictures. I mean, this is one of the most famous actors of our generation.
But aside from his amazing good loo
ks, Jayden is dressed like a normal guy. He’s wearing the same school uniform as everybody else, even if one side of his collar is popped up and there are large diamond studs in both of his ears. A plain backpack is slung over one shoulder and he stands with the same slouching posture of every high school guy I’ve ever met.
When I just continue to stare at him, at a complete loss for words, he starts to look a little concerned. “Have we met?”
“I’m new.” Finally, I find my voice enough to say something coherent. “Sorry, this is really embarrassing. I’ve watched every episode of your show and seeing you in person is a little much. Please just forget I exist and that this ever happened.”
His gorgeous eyes give me a brief once-over and I feel heat rising along my skin at every place where his gaze briefly rests. “Oh, I don’t think I’m going to be able forget you.”
And I’m dead. My heart stutters to a stop for a brief and desperate moment as I wait for it to start back up again before I pass out. I am so not prepared for this. Jayden Heart is flirting with me.
He still watches me as I turn to go, a half-smile still curving along his face. “I’m always watching.”
My heart nearly explodes out of my chest. Did he really just repeat his catchphrase from the show to me in a school hallway? I have to be dreaming.
Or living in a nightmare, I realize, recalling what just happened with Kai. This is probably all just a set-up to humiliate me again. Jayden is connected to the twins and Asher on the Inner Circle. I can’t believe they think I’m going to fall for this again.
“Um, okay.” I do my best to keep my voice neutral, like he just said the weirdest thing that I’ve heard, even as the part of me still a little obsessed with my childhood idol is squealing in delight. “I’m just gonna go.”
And then I turn my back on Jayden fucking Heart and walk as fast as I can down the hall without actually running. I knew that coming to Black Lake would be hard, but I hadn’t thought this place would exploit every weakness that I have.
My mind is so discombobulated that I go in the wrong direction, ending up totally lost. This is my first real class of the semester and I’m going to walk in after it's already started.
I blame Jayden Heart for all of it.
When I finally find my stumbling way down the right hallway in this mausoleum of a building, it’s already ten minutes into second period. I hesitate at the ornate wooden door, staring at the little gold placard that has Chamber 17 engraved on it in pretty script.
The thick mahogany doesn’t have a window cut into it so I have no idea what waits for me on the other side. I don’t want to go in there and it takes everything that I have not to run back to the dorms and hide under my bed.
I just know that I’m about to walk into one of my worst nightmares. You know that moment in teen movies where the new student walks into a full classroom and has to introduce themselves to everyone like that’s a productive use of instruction time? I have to fast forward through those parts because just watching it happen to someone else makes my hands shake.
Remember that anxiety I mentioned before.
But I wasn’t raised to run away and whatever waits for me on the other side of that door isn’t going to get any better because I’m putting it off. I can hear the rumble of a masculine voice through the barrier, but it’s not clear enough to make out what’s being said.
Steeling my nerves, I push open the door and step into the room as everything goes quiet.
The instructor is younger than I thought he would be, seeming to be only in his mid-twenties. He’s dressed in a brown corduroy sport jacket with bright red suede patches on the elbows. It should look stodgy, but the slim jeans and leather jack boots he has it paired with makes the outfit into a distinctive look. His hair is nearly black and styled so it’s long on top and swoops over his head but is still short on the sides. This isn’t like any high school teacher that I’ve ever seen.
“Is this Mr. Cardill’s class?” I ask, almost convinced that one of the older students is playing a prank by impersonating a teacher. The class titters and I try my best to ignore it. It’s like everyone at this school is a total dick.
“That’s me,” he says, expression friendly. “And who do we have here?”
“I’m Lily Murphy. I got a little lost, that’s why I’m late.”
“No worries, you haven’t missed anything. We’re just going over the syllabus. Take this and have a seat.”
Mr. Cardill hands me a few stapled sheets of paper with an easy smile and points to the only empty seat in the room.
Right next to a grinning Jayden Heart.
Short of breath from what I assume is a bourgeoning panic attack, I slink to the seat and try to ignore the malicious giggles and whispers from other students as I pass. Jayden says nothing as I slip into the desk chair, but I sense his gaze on me as I deliberately stare straight forward.
Mr. Cardill immediately responds to the increasing distraction with a tone that brooks no argument. “Attention back on me guys, whatever nonsense you’re on about can wait until after class.”
To my surprise, the room immediately quiets as everyone returns their attention to the front. It’s almost like magic the way that Mr. Cardill is able to make the whole class pay attention to him. I wonder if he just got done slapping everyone’s hands with a wooden ruler right before I walked through the door. He is the only member of the faculty that I’ve seen able to do that, so far. It almost makes me wonder if I'll have a class that's actually tolerable this year.
Mr. Cardill goes on to explain what we’ll be covering this term, pointing out that the second year of Algebra is where most students struggle the most and that he’s here to help anybody who needs it. I almost failed Algebra I so that’s nice to hear because I’m going to need all the help that I can get.
I’m trying to follow along with what he’s saying on the printed syllabus in front of me but the words jump in front of my eyes. I have to wait a minute for them to right themselves. My dyslexia is usually manageable but I always have to concentrate a little harder when I’m stressed out.
And being at Black Lake is beyond a stressful experience.
Then a folded note lands on my desk, practically under my nose. I look up, but Mr. Cardill is still talking, now facing the white board up front as he writes down due dates for the next week. When I glance over at Jayden, he’s not looking at me and leans back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling like the entire world bores him.
I peel open the tightly folded paper with fingers that are shaking slightly. The line of words is as long and lazy as the person who wrote them.
Every episode, huh?
Jayden hadn’t signed the note, but it's not like he needed to. My face heats as I realize what my flustered self revealed in the hallway. He probably thinks I’m some crazed fan who will steal his dirty underwear.
But when I glance over at him, Jayden is looking at me with that laconic smile still stretched across his face. Our eyes briefly meet and his smile widens, flashing brightly white teeth that are probably the result of thousands of dollars of cosmetic dental work.
I get the impression he’s mocking me, but in the way that a boy on the playground pulls on the pigtails of a girl he likes. It’s almost as if he just wants my attention.
And I have no idea what to make of that.
For a brief moment, I consider writing back but then common sense takes over. Nothing good can come of further interactions with Jayden. Either he’s following the same M.O. as Kai and is just trying to set me up for another humiliation or, best-case scenario, being linked up with the most famous member of my class will just paint an even bigger target on my back. Neither of those options are good ones. So I decide to ignore him, even as my heart beats a faster and faster tattoo in my chest.
Mr. Cardill has started the actual lesson and I open my composition book to copy what he’s writing on the board. It’s almost impossible to concentrate on what he’s saying but at least I
’ll have my notes to refer back to when I finally get my head straight.
Another piece of folded paper lands on my open notebook. I’d marvel at Jayden's persistence if I wasn’t so convinced his interest was part of an elaborate plot to make a fool out of me. A vanishingly small part of me wants to believe that the gorgeous actor I’ve been pining over for most of my life might actually be interested in me, but that part of me is obviously a complete idiot.
With a sweep of my hand, I knock the folded note off the desk where it floats silently to the floor. It isn’t even worth reading, I decide. Because if I do, it will be that much more difficult to pretend that the Jayden Heart isn’t trying to pass me notes in my math class. I have to ignore him, if just for the sake of my own sanity.
When Jayden leans over to retrieve the note, his chair lets out a loud creak that immediately draws the attention of everyone sitting near us.
“Are we boring you, Mr. Heart?” Mr. Cardill says from the front of the room, voice a sarcastic drawl. “I understand that the quadratic formula isn’t as interesting as a movie set, but I suggest you pay attention if you’re hoping to pass my class.”
“Sorry, Mr. C,” Jayden responds, flashing the same heart-stopping smile that’s been charming audiences around the world since he was first discovered by a talent scout as a toddler. “It won’t happen again.”
“See that it doesn’t.”
I assume Jayden will be upset with me for getting him in trouble, but he only winks at me when I glance over at him. Under any other circumstances, the move would be charming but all I can do is glare back.
Leave me alone, I mouth and turn my attention back to the board, resolved to ignore him until the end of class.
No other notes appear on my desk for the rest of the period and I try not to feel bad about it. I know that his attention almost certainly comes with dark intent, but at least a small part of me was enjoying it.
