Authors: A.M. Evanston
****
That's better,
Annamarie thought, stepping back and looking at her improved room. Her walls were covered with band posters. What living space would be complete without additions from The Rolling Stones, Led Zeplin, and Guns N' Roses? She also had her nunchucks and her karate uniform hanging in plain sight, just in case she ever started to get sucked into the generic doll thing and forgot who she was. Just as she was about to flop onto the bed in post-decorating exhaustion, she heard feet thundering down the hall and girls giggling outside of her door. She was curious about what was going on.
She opened her
door and saw two girls talking to each other. One of them, a redheaded girl with way too thin eyebrows, looked at her and frowned. Both girls walked away before she could even introduce herself.
What is with this school? Half the time I don't say anything at all and people still hate me.
She let out a sigh and left her room.
When she went down the stairs, she saw
many students were filing toward the door. After she checked her cell phone, she hit herself on the head with her palm. Duh! It was dinner time. Why hadn't she realized that? She wasn't all that hungry—she'd eaten greasy Chinese food in the airport for lunch that sat in her stomach like a lump of metal—but she followed the others anyway just so she'd know where the dining hall was.
Once she was outside
with the sun shining on her face, she felt a lot less depressed. That was until the two girls in front of her stopped short and she rammed right into one of them. She apologized, but the person didn't say anything and kept staring at somebody who was heading toward them. Annamarie looked at the approaching figure and realized it was a guy. Not just any guy, but an extremely attractive guy.
His
hair was the color of honey and his eyes were a shimmering blue. He was tall and muscular but not bulky. Even his teeth were perfect. Just as she started to sweat, the guy looked her straight in the eye and his upper lip curled back in disgust.
"It looks like they'll let anyone
go to school here now," he muttered loud enough for her to hear him.
Rude,
she thought. Some girls cried when insulted, others mulled in silence. She got mad. Sure, she'd promised her dad she'd be good while at school, but she'd flown from London, been yelled at by several different people, and now this self-absorbed jerk was giving her attitude. She didn't care if he was handsome enough to be on the front cover of a magazine. He needed to learn some manners.
"Hey, you.
" She followed after the guy, seething. "Blondie."
The guy froze and turned, his
perfect eyebrow raised. He made eye contact with her and scowled.
"Are you speaking to me?" he asked.
"Yeah, I'm talking to you," she snapped. "You think you're hot stuff, don't you? Well, you're not. You're as slimy as they come."
The color drained out of his face. "Do you know who I am? My father is the
owner and CEO of Marino Technology Group. Somebody like you should be groveling at my feet."
Groveling? B
oy, this guy sure had a lot of nerve.
"I'd rather grovel before a toilet than you," she said.
His jaw clenched.
"If you were a guy, I'd
beat the crap out of you," he said, snarling. Somehow he still looked handsome.
"What?
You don't want to hit me because I'm a girl? Let's fight. I don't care." Her fists balled as she raised them. "I dare you. Try to punch me once."
The guy laughed. "Seriously? This must be a joke."
"It isn't."
She punched him in the ar
m. It was a mock punch, but he recoiled like she'd hurt him for real.
"What are you doing?" He jumped away.
"What's the matter?" She punched him again. She wasn't hitting him hard, but she could have been with how he reacted. "You scared of me? Huh? Huh? Huh?"
Y
eah, that's right, rich boy. Next time you want to insult me, you'll think twice.
"Ms. Chadwick, what are you doing?" someone
said from behind her.
Oh no. Her face
went cold as she froze. It was Mrs. Carmichael, the principal. She lowered her fists.
She expected Mr. Wimpy to say
she'd been harassing him, but to her surprise, it was one of the girls who said, "This person is harassing Daniel for no reason, Mrs. Carmichael. He was just trying to go to dinner and she started punching him."
"Is this true, Ms. Chadwick?" Mrs. Carmichael
glared at her, a vein pulsing in her cheek.
Hoo boy. All of her karate training would do nothing in the face of a principal.
"I guess it sort of is," she admitted. "But he started it. He made me sound like a bug or something."
"Come with me to the office, Ms. Chadwick." Mrs. Carmichael's voice was dangerously soft. Annamarie realized she'd
angered the principal so much she was beyond yelling.
She hung her head and followed Mrs. Carmichael to the office. Once the older woman shut the door,
she turned her enraged glare on her. Annamarie felt like she was melting beneath her stare.
"How could you be the daughter of a proper family?" Mrs. Carmichael asked. "
I have never seen a girl behave in such an atrocious manner. Aren't you ashamed of yourself?"
Not really,
she thought, but she decided it was better to nod solemnly. She wasn't sure what sort of punishment she was going to receive, but she'd learned over the years that it was at least better if she pretended to be ashamed.
"If you weren't the daughter of Francis Chadwick, I would expel you in an instant," Mrs. Carmichael snapped.
Expulsion? She imagined how great that would go over with her parents. They'd make it so she'd never practice karate again. Her stomach sunk.
"Please don't expel me," she said. Pleading was the worst.
"Fine." Mrs. Carmichael's nostrils flared. "You'll receive a week's worth of detention starting tomorrow. You'll help the janitor clean the toilets."
"What?"
That was a horrible job.
"Do you want
me to make it two weeks?" Mrs. Carmichael stared at her venomously.
"No, Mrs. Carmichael." Her shoulders slumped in defeat.
"Then leave this office and go to the dining room with the other students." Mrs. Carmichael waved her away. "Don't let me see you act up again, do you understand me? Your father's success can only save you for so long."
She left the office
, her stomach churning. She wanted to head back to her dorm to hide under the covers. Unfortunately, she was worried not showing up to dinner would put her in more trouble, so she followed her map and went to the dining hall instead. After she opened the door, the loud chatter of students dulled. She saw that every person in the dining room was glaring at her. Trying hard to ignore the stares burning the back of her neck, she took a seat at the end of a long dining table next to a group of girls. All of them stood up and moved to another table.
Heaven help me,
she thought, trying to catch her breath. She was in so much trouble now. Every person in the room wanted a piece of her.
As she pretended to be unbothered by the stares, the doors to the dining room opened and Daniel strutted inside. Behind him, two other boys followed. One had beautiful black hair that grazed his chin and bright green eyes. The other was a redheaded boy with his
hair tied back into a ponytail. Daniel shot her a look of utmost loathing as he walked by and she had to fight not to give him the finger. The green-eyed boy was the only person in the room who looked at her without malice. Instead he appeared curious and maybe the tiniest bit intrigued. When she studied him, he fearlessly held her gaze. She was the one who, embarrassed by his intensity, had to look away. The group of beautiful boys sat in the corner of the room at the only still vacant table. She realized those seats had been reserved for them.
It was only when the doors opened
again and a group of chefs wheeled in tables full of food that the chatter in the room started up again.
****
That night, Annamarie sat in front of her laptop and read an email from her dad for the zillionth time.
To my dearest Annamarie,
I hope you had a wonderful first day at the academy. I have high hopes for you. Maybe you'll finally give up this ridiculous karate business and start honing yourself as a musician like your little brother. I miss you a great deal. The house isn't quite the same without you running around making trouble. In fact, everything is too quiet here. I never thought I'd see the day when I had too much solitude to do my work.
Please write me back as soon as you reach the school.
Sincerely,
Your father
She sighed. She'd composed several responses to her dad's email. At first she'd written a bogusly cheerful message, then one that conveyed her real feelings. Finally, she decided the best way to go was to be as vague as possible. She didn't want to get into trouble because she'd started a fight already, but she didn't want him to think she was having the time of her life either.
Dear Dad,
Okay, I'm NEVER giving up karate. Sorry. You can ask a zillion times but it's not going to happen. And I'm hoping I will like the school more after a few days. Everybody here is different than me, so I don't really fit in. I have a lot of musical lessons and will already be involved in extracurricular activities over the next week.
Love,
Annamarie
P.S. Tell Yuri that even if I'm not home, I'll kill him if he goes anywhere near my room.
After she shut down her laptop, she climbed into bed and stared at the ceiling. Day one was over. Unfortunately, it was only the beginning of her suffering.
Chapter Two
The next morning, Annamarie awoke to the sound of her alarm clock ringing. She sat up, blinking sleep from her eyes. It took her a moment to figure out why she was so depressed. She was at a musical academy and had to look forward to ridicule and cleaning the toilets. She climbed out of bed, pulled on her uniform, and went to the bathroom. Even after she cleaned her face and brushed her shoulder-length black hair, she looked plain compared to the other girls in the bathroom.
Why do you want to be like them anyway?
she asked herself. She decided she was looking at this situation all wrong. Hadn't she always loved being a rebel? The fact she was the only girl in her karate class back home had given her a lot of pleasure. She should consider this the same thing. She was probably the only female in the entire junior class who'd never received plastic surgery. That was an achievement. She gave herself an internal prep talk and then left the bathroom to collect her book bag from her dorm room. Unfortunately, she hadn't given herself enough time to eat breakfast, so she had to go straight to class.
After she'd grabbed her things
, she headed down the hall with a spring in her step. Who cared if everybody looked at her like she had shrubbery sprouting from her forehead? She'd always liked being a loner anyway. Keeping her head down until graduation would be no problem. She checked her map. Her first music lesson was right down the hall. This day was turning out to be okay. She'd already managed to find her classroom with no problems.
She made it to the
classroom and went inside. Some of the other flute players were in their chairs. She took a seat next to a brown-haired girl and grinned at her. The girl stared back.
"Um, what are you doing?"
the girl asked.
"Sitting." What was with the people here? They were all so weird. Her smile kept being conveyed as a battle cry.
"We're seated according to how well we play," the girl said. "You're sitting in Mary's seat."
"Oh." Face flushing, she sat up, clutching her
instrument to her chest. What now?
More girls poured into class. Every one of them took a seat. She was left standing alone, feeling like the biggest idiot in the world. Finally, a plump woman in
an ugly tartan dress burst into the room.
"Sorry I'm late, class."
The woman grinned at the girls. "I got caught up with something in the staff room."
Annamarie hesitated before stepp
ing over to her. "Um, teacher?"
The woman looked at her curiously. "Call me Mrs. Larson."
"Ugh, right, Mrs. Larson." She shrugged. "I'm new. I don't know where to sit."
"Right." Mrs. Larson clapped her on the shoulder. "You must be that student I was told about."
Annamarie nodded. "Where should I sit?"
"That all depends on you, dear." Mrs. Larson grinned. "Of course, I'm sure you'll earn a seat in the front row with parents like yours. I can't believe I have the daughter of Francis Chadwick and Yuki Neko in my class. All the teachers have been talking about your arrival."
Her stomach sunk at a rapid rate.
Uh-oh…
"What do you mean by earn a seat?" she whispered.
"Don't you know?" Mrs. Larson's grin shrunk a little. "The best players sit in the front. The worst are in a row in the back. You'll have to play so I know where to place you."
Th
is was it. She was going to die from embarrassment. She barely knew anything about playing the flute. Whenever she had musical class back home, she'd always snuck off to practice karate.
"I think I'll just sit in the back." She took a nervous step
toward a still vacant seat.
"Don't be silly." Mrs. Larson grabbed her before she could escape. "Play for us. I'll let you choose the son
g. You must have many memorized by now."
Annamarie
could barely read musical notes, let alone memorize complicated songs. She only had one song memorized, but she had the feeling the teacher wasn't going to be happy with it.
"I'm not like my parents," she said.
"I don't have talent."
"Don't be so modest." Mrs. Larson
shook her head.
"No,
really
." She couldn't even hold a tune while singing.
"Just take out your flute." Mrs. Larson was losing patience.
Afraid of getting another detention, she opened her instrument case and sloppily put her flute together. Some of the girls in front started giggling because it took her so long to get set-up.
"Do you know what you're going to play?" Mrs. Larson asked.
"Ugh…" She shrugged. "I guess."
"Great." Mrs. Larson clapped her plump hands together. "Let's hear it."
Annamarie brought her flute to her lips and began to blow out the notes to "Row, Row, Row Your Boat." Halfway through the song, her pitch slipped and a high-pitch trill made her wince.
"Stop, stop, stop!" Mrs. Larson yelled, waving her arms around wildly. Her face was the color of a fresh picked prun
e. "Did you think that was funny?"
When she shook her head, some of the other girls started laughing hysterically.
"Sorry, Mrs. Larson." She shrugged.
"Be serious now." Mrs. Larson's voice was breathless. "Play something real."
"I was," she said. "I can't play anything else."
Mrs. Larson looked ready to explode. "Detention. Now sit in the back. I've had enough of this. Your parents
would be ashamed of you."
After
she took a seat in the back, the girl she sat next to edged her chair away to put as much distance between the two of them as possible.
****
Three hours later, Emily walked down the hall as she stared begrudgingly at her instrument case. If Mrs. Carmichael learned she'd managed to get yet another detention first period, she was dead meat. At the rate she was going, she would be lucky if she was still enrolled at the academy by tonight. For a brief moment, she toyed with the idea of running away, but she was sixteen-years-old and only had a hundred bucks in her wallet. That wouldn't get her far. She slumped against the wall just as two twittering girls—one brunette and one blonde—walked past her.
"I'm so lucky I have the same lunch as Daniel," said the brunette. "I get to ogle him from across the room."
The blonde girl said, "Why does everybody have a crush on that guy? People have been talking about him since the start of semester."
Good question,
Annamarie thought. Curiosity got the better of her. She stalked them, being sure to keep her head down.
"How could you not know?" The brunette sighed dramatically. "Daniel is more than good looking. He's filthy rich
and the heir to a huge company."
"
I heard about that," the blonde said. "The other two guys he hangs out with are from amazing families too, aren't they?"
"Jaiden King is the son of a famous painter." The brunette
tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Gavin Shaw is the son of the Noble Prize winning novelist, Tim Shaw."
"What?" The blonde
's eyes widened.
"Yeah." The brunette moaned. "I would
date any of them because they're so hot, but I've never seen them go out with anyone. I guess none of the girls here are good enough for them."
Why would any girl want to date
somebody like Daniel? He's gorgeous, but he's rude.
She snorted into her hand and both girls looked at her. Oops. She speed walked past them. It was lunch time and she was staving, but she wasn't in the mood to go to the dining hall. She'd get something from a vending machine later. Instead she wanted some peace and quiet in the sunshine.
After she went outside, she spotted a tall oak tree. It looked like a dream come true. She trotted over to it and paus
ed when she saw a guy lying on the grass a few feet away. He had his back to her so she couldn't see his face. For a moment she debated going somewhere else, but he looked dead to the world so she sunk to her butt by the trunk of the tree.
She stretched out and smiled. The sunlight on her face was so nice. She could fall asleep if she wasn't so upset about the additional detention she'd earned.
****
Annamarie stared straight into a toilet
bowl. She wore elbow-length rubber gloves as she scrubbed the porcelain pot.
This is so gross,
she thought, wrinkling her nose. Behind her, the janitor, Raphael, cheerfully swept the floor as she suffered. She wondered whether he enjoyed the fact she was cleaning the toilets. She gave the pot one lost scrub before she staggered to her feet. The smell of bleach was so strong it made her eyes water. She left the bathroom stall and stood in front of the janitor, down-trodden.
"I'm
finished with the toilets," she said. "Do you need anything else?"
Raphael grinned at her, his bushy mustache
twitching. "You can be done for today. I'll see you at four o'clock tomorrow."
"I can't wait.
Cleaning toilets is the highlight of my day," she said sarcastically.
"Really?" He raised an eyebrow.
She sighed. Apparently years of cleaning toilets had stolen his ability to understand sarcasm.
"
No." She groaned and shook her head. "I'll just see you tomorrow."
"Bye." He nodded.
After she walked out of the bathroom and went down the hall, she had the strangest feeling that somebody was watching her. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and a chill ran down her spine. She glanced over her shoulder but didn't see anybody.
That's weird,
she thought, but shrugged it off. Maybe she'd inhaled too much cleaning solution.
After she left school
building, she headed to the dorm, her skirt brushing her thighs. She was halfway there when she heard a familiar voice yelling. She should have ignored it, but her curiosity was almost as large as her temper.
She inched along the school wall, heading toward the source of the noise. She spotted Daniel with
his two friends. Daniel was glaring at a doughy boy with spikey blond hair who she'd never seen before. The boy was holding a bottle of soda.
"You spilled your drink on my new coat," Daniel said. "What's wrong with you?"
Her fists clenched at her sides.
"I'm so sorry," the boy said.
"Saying your sorry isn't good enough," Daniel snapped.
That was it. Her temper was rising. She'd been spilled on before. Proper etiquette
in a situation like this was to accept an apology! She tried to convince herself to calm down—if she confronted Daniel she was bound to get another detention—but she couldn't. Trying to keep calm was like trying to stop an erupting volcano. She stomped over to the four boys and stepped in front of the victim.
"What do you think you're doing, you big bully?" She poked Daniel in the chest.
The green-eyed boy—she thought his name was Jaiden but wasn't one hundred percent sure—gaped in surprise. Daniel's hard expression didn't change.
"You're still here," Daniel said coldly. "I thought you'd get expelled for sure."
"You're the one who should be expelled," she said. "Why are you picking on this guy?"
"He spilled on me," Daniel said.
"So?" She raised an eyebrow.
The doughy guy grabbed her arm. "Please don't. Daniel can do horrible things to people."
"See." Daniel smirked. "This guy knows his place. My father donates more money to this school than anybody else, so Mrs. Carmichael listens to everything I say. I can have you thrown out of the academy. You should be quiet and do what I tell you just like everybody else at this—"
One second she was shaking with rage, the next she'd taken the doughy guy's soda
and dumped the remaining liquid straight on Daniel's perfect head. The color drained from his face and his eyes bulged. Jaiden let out a snort of laughter he swiftly stifled as a cough as Gavin groaned.
"You—you—" Daniel pointed at her, his hand shaking
from rage. "That's it. I'm going to destroy you. You're going to come crawling to me on your knees."
She glared at him.
Like she'd ever come crawling to him. She wasn't the type of girl who groveled.
"Yeah, right." She placed her hands on her hips. "There's nothi
ng you can do to hurt me. I don't care how rich you are or how pretty your face is. You're a big slime ball."
"You're dead." Daniel pointed a shaking finger in her face. "You're going to loathe the day you messed with me."
She let out a derisive laugh. Daniel humphed and whirled around.
"We're leaving," Daniel snapped at his friends.
"Okay." Gavin followed.
As Daniel and Gavin walked away, Jaiden stared at her for a moment, his glowing green eyes
probing hers. A hint of a smile still played on his lips. He nodded at her before leaving. Had there been respect in his eyes? She decided that couldn't have been the case—no way was anybody who hung out with Daniel a decent human being—and looked at the blond boy she'd just saved from the wrath of the wealthy tiger. His tie was covered with soda and his eyes were the size of dinner plates. She sighed. The boys at this school really needed to learn how to throw a good punch. She brushed off the boy's tie with her hand.