I shrug. “We barely talked. It was mostly just taking notes. I don’t know why we had to partner up. I think the teacher is just evil.”
My stomach twists and I hope it doesn’t show on my face. How deep down, I wanted to be friendly with Declan, but it felt impossible. I’d been rude to him when we first met, and he’d been rightfully cold to me. How do you become friends after something like that? Plus, I think my heart knows that it’s better to stay away. That boy is cuter than he has any right to be, and I do not need to go getting a crush on some lowly gardener. I have a senator’s son back at home. And yeah, Henry isn’t exactly waiting on me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t win him back from Viv once I finally get graduate this stupid place and go home.
“I just thought my first day would be better than this,” I say, feeling a blush creep into my cheeks. “I thought I would make friends.”
“There’s a party tonight in Kingsbere Hall,” Belle says, perking up. “You could go. Maybe you’ll make some friends there?”
“Will you come with me?”
She gives me a look, and I grin. “It was worth trying.”
“No, it wasn’t,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“What kind of party is it?” I’m no stranger to parties, but something tells me a boarding school shindig won’t be nearly as much fun as the ones I go to back at home.
“Just one of the parties the senior class throws. It’s held in the basement. I get invited to all of them, but I’ve never been. Everyone says good things about the parties on Knight Watch though. So it’s probably fun.”
I consider it for a moment. “I’m guessing they don’t wear uniforms to these secret parties?”
“It’s safe to say they do not.”
I grin, thinking of my gorgeous black dress hanging in the closet. My first day at Shelfbrooke totally sucked, but I’m not a quitter.
I’m Sophia Brass.
And I’m about to show these New England losers how a Cali girl parties.
Chapter Eight
Kingsbere Hall hasto be the oldest building on campus. It’s way off the normal pathways and looks abandoned. Ivy walls cover the red bricks, creeping up and over the windows as if nature is trying to take back the old building. Or hide something from getting out. I smile to myself, thinking of all the haunted stories you could invent about an old building like this.
It’s a chilly night, and my black pantyhose aren’t doing a single thing to keep me warm. But at least I look totally hot in my black dress, ruby red ballet flats, and long silver teardrop necklace. This is a much better look than those dumb uniforms.
The air is sweet, scented by the nearby gardens and the tall hedge wall that lines the cobblestone walkway as I make my way toward Kingsbere Hall. It’s dark out since it’s just past ten o’clock at night, and the dusty glow of the few lampposts that dot the sidewalks barely provide any light this far away from the main campus.
The shadows make the gardens feel slightly creepy, despite their beautiful appearance in the daytime. The closer I get to the building, the more I start to feel weird.
No, I tell myself as the fluttery, awful feeling stirs in my stomach. I amnotnervous. Why would I be nervous? Parties are my thing. They’re what I’m good at.
Butnervousis exactly what I feel like.
There’s a soft thumping of music sounding from the building, where the seniors-only party rages down in the basement. I’m just a few steps way now, so close to the door that I could reach out and touch it. But something stops me. Intuition, maybe.
I hear laughter in the distance, and I jump, rushing off to the side where an overgrown bush blocks me from view.
Why am I hiding? What is wrong with me?
Still, I stand here in the chilly air, hidden in the shadows while two girls talk excitedly to each other as they approach the building. I should step out, say hello, introduce myself. But again, that weird intuition feeling something stops me.
“Yo, wait up!” a guy calls from way down the sidewalk. I peer at him through the leaves, and see that it’s actually two guys walking together, their bodies illuminating under the lamppost and then disappearing again when the sidewalk gets dark. The girls stop and wait for them to catch up.
“There better be some hot girls at this party,” the guy says, popping his collar and running a hand over the top of his hair. “I’m ready to get out there and date again.”
“I heard some new girl just enrolled,” his friend says. “Apparently she’s pretty cute.”
I grin.
“Nah, man, stay away from that girl,” the first guy says.
