Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Unaware of the thoughts circling through my head, Everly’s lips lift into a teasing smile as she nudges me with her shoulder. “You, my friend, are a very lucky girl.”
I burst into laughter and the auburn-haired girl grins, following suit. It feels good to have someone to laugh with. At Hawthorne Prep, where there are people eagerly waiting to rip me to shreds, I could really use a friend.
Changing the subject, I ask, “What’s your next class?”
Everly pulls out her schedule and glances at the folded piece of paper in her hand. “Looks like it’s AP psychology with Mr. Timmons.”
“Bummer. I have him sixth hour.” I point to the intersecting corridor we’re about to cross. “His classroom is that way.” After we make the turn, the room is midway down the corridor.
Once we reach the door, our feet slow and I throw the offer out there, wishing someone had done the same for me. “You’re welcome to join us for lunch.”
“Thanks,” a smile of relief lights up her face, “I’d like that.”
“Good.” I glance at the ocean of students in their uniforms. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like there’s a friendly face in the crowd. “I know what it’s like to be new here. They’re kind of a clicky bunch, but don’t worry, it’ll get better.”
As long as your name isn’t Hawthorne.
Interest flickers across her expression as she studies me. “When did you move here?”
“At the start of the school year.” Even though it’s been less than two months, sometimes it feels like forever.
“And you’ve already got that guy?”
“I guess so.”
“Wow, girl,” she says with a laugh. “You work fast. I’m seriously impressed.”
She wouldn’t be if she knew the real story behind our relationship.
“Okay,” Everly says, “one last question before I head to psych.”
I raise my brows.
“Does Kingsley have any hot friends?”
A snort escapes as my lips quirk into a smile. “Guess you’ll have to meet me for lunch and find out for yourself.”
With a grin, Everly points a finger at me as she walks backward to the classroom door. “Challenge accepted, I’ll be there.”
Chapter Five
With Kingsley’s arm slung around my shoulders, we head to the cafeteria. Our blazers have been shed and we’ve rolled up our long sleeves. Lunch is a less formal affair with scarcely any adult supervision. That used to scare the crap out of me.
“Hey, Summer, wait up!”
I turn and find Everly jogging to catch up with us. Her wavy auburn hair bounces around her shoulders and her cheeks are stained with a hint of pink. She really is striking with all that long red hair, unusual turquoise-colored eyes, and a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose.
“Hi!” I greet, happy she joined us. Even though I’ve been here since August, I haven’t made any girlfriends and I really miss the ones I left behind in Chicago. We keep in touch, but it’s not the same. Plus, there’s the whole Team Summer or Team Sloane thing going on. Obviously, a lot of the girls are Team Sloane. And I can’t necessarily fault them for that.
At least, I try not to.
Sloane has been the queen bee of Hawthorne since kindergarten. I moved here a hot minute ago and my family has been public enemy number one for generations. Overcoming the family brand hasn’t been easy. What I’ve learned is that memories are long around these parts.
Everly’s attention slides from me to Kingsley before bouncing back again. “Thanks for the invite.” She tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I woke up this morning in a cold sweat at the thought of having to eat lunch by myself.”
The need to reassure her surges through me and I untangle myself from Kingsley before looping my arm through hers. “See? Nothing to worry about.”
A smile curls around the edges of her lips. I’ve just met Everly, but so far, I like her. If given half a chance, we could be friends. The babble of voices intensifies as we near the cafeteria. Once we turn the corner and head inside, Everly’s footsteps falter as she takes in the vast space with widened eyes.
“Wow,” she murmurs in awe, “this is gorgeous.”
Much like the corridors, there are rustic wood beams that cross the vaulted ceiling. Heavy chandeliers ringed with thick white tapers are suspended in place from high above. The far wall is comprised of an arched stained-glass window that allows sunbeams to flood into the space, giving the expansive room a warm, colorful feel. Gold-leaf framed pictures of when the school was newly built dot the walls. Tables are arranged in three neat rows allowing all four grades of students to dine together so everyone is on the same schedule.
For a second, my mind tumbles back to what it felt like to walk into the lunchroom for the first time. Austin and I hadn’t just been the new kids. We’d been the hated Hawthornes. It takes effort to shake loose the discomfort trying to take root in the pit of my belly.