Her pretty face appears on the screen, and I watch as she parks her car at the open-air public parking lot two blocks from the store where she works. From the timestamp, it’s earlier in the day, and I know it’s her regular shift.
My fingers lift to the screen of their own volition, and I caress her face, wondering how it’s possible she’s even more beautiful. She doesn’t have a scrap of makeup on, her hair is pulled back in a tight ponytail, and she’s wearing that hideous green and white uniform that hides her gorgeous curves, making her look shapeless, but she’s still the most stunning girl I’ve ever seen. Maybe it’s her inner beauty shining through, but I doubt I’ll meet any other girl to rival Emery Copeland.
She’s the only girl who has ever captured my attention and held it.
I wish I could evict her from my heart, but she’s taken up permanent residence there, and I’ve had to accept it because it’s clear she is going nowhere.
There are only four people I don’t hate in this world—Roman, my old buddy Curtis, Everett, and Emery.
There is nothing I won’t do for them.
Including watching out for them even if they don’t know they need it.
But Emery definitely does.
I don’t believe in coincidences, and it’s no coincidence that Emery Copeland ended up in Rydeville.
I know her family has elite connections; however, I don’t know what they stand to gain by bringing Emery into the fold.
I fully intend to find out.
Chapter Eleven
Emery
“Uma is here,” Azalea says, popping her head into the staff room at the local grocery store and market where I work.
“Tell her I’ll be out in five.” I unpin my hair and run my fingers through it as I wait for the curling iron to heat up.
“You look gorgeous.” Her gaze rakes over my black lace crop top and ripped black jeans in approval. I’m wearing strappy black stilettos and sporting vibrant red nail polish on my toes and fingers. I took time with my makeup, and it’s on point. I know I look good, and I’m ready to embrace my new single status and find someone to hook up with tonight.
“Thank you.” I smile at her as I begin working on my hair.
“Uma does too.” My younger colleague and friend pouts. “I wish I was old enough to go out with you.”
Technically, we shouldn’t be going to bars and clubs and drinking our body weight in alcohol at eighteen, but Rydeville is like a law unto itself. No one bats an eye when we order alcoholic drinks. We don’t even need fake IDs. I love this town, and it feels like home in a way Manhattan never did, but there are weird vibes too. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s just something…mysterious about the place. Like there’s some giantsecret everyone is in on, but they never talk about it. I think part of it has to do with the uber wealthy in the community—they are calledthe eliteat school—but it’s all very enigmatic and weird.
Not that I care. The town has been welcoming, and while I didn’t make friends at Rydeville High, people left me alone. Attending Rydeville University should be better because it’s got students from all over Massachusetts and from farther afield.
My plans of attending West Lorian University evaporated in a puff of smoke last August, along with the rest of my life, but I’m not crying over it.
Anymore.
RU is a great school, and I’m fortunate my aunt and uncle are forking out tuition money so I can attend.
“Earth to Emery.” Azzy snaps her fingers in my face. “You zoned out, and you’re going to burn your hair.”
“Shit.” I uncurl the thick piece of hair from the iron, and it springs back in a tight ringlet.
“You could always sneak me in with you.” Her eyes alight as she tugs on the ringlet, loosening the curl.
“It’s not a good idea. I really need this job.” I doubt Stan and Martha would continue to employ me if I corrupted their little girl. I shoot her a compassionate look because I remember being fifteen and wanting to be older. “In a couple years, you’ll be joining us. It’ll fly by, not that you should wish your life away.”
I sound like a hypocrite to my own ears because I spent the past year wishing for time to speed up so I could move out of my aunt and uncle’s oppressive home and into my own place. Which is super ungrateful and bratty because I would have been homeless as well as penniless if Aunt Bernice and her husband Gordon hadn’t given me a lifeline after my parents fled overseas, leaving me behind without any forewarning.
Familiar rage blooms in my chest as I think of everything I learned about my parents. They are not the people I thoughtthem to be. I used to think I had it all, but I had nothing, and I knew nothing. I was so stupidly ignorant of the things going on around me. With my father. And withhim.
“My parents are so strict,” Azzy whines. “All my school friends are drinking and partying, and none of them are forced to work part-time jobs or have a ridiculous curfew. I’ll be a virginforever.” She draws the word out, and I have sympathy.
