My Darling Arrow
Chapter One
Some girls are born perfect.
They have perfect hair, perfect eyes, perfect skin.
They have perfect grades and high ambitions. They’re popular and admired. They’re adored and revered. And loved.
I’m not one of them.
That’s the first thing to know about me: I’m not perfect.
I have flaws. Many, many flaws.
I don’t have perfect grades. I don’t have high ambitions.
I don’t get why the sum of all the angles of a trianglehasto be one hundred and eighty or the world will collapse. Or why when we talk about the heart, we reduce it to a muscular organ with four chambers that’s sole purpose is to pump blood through the body.
I’m far from being popular and I’ve got something called witchy eyes.
Or at least, I call them that.
They’re golden in color and they arch up at the corners, making them look sort of catty, witchy. Which is super poetic because I’ve got a witchy name too.
Salem.
Salem Salinger, and the second thing to know about me is that along with witchy eyes and a witchy name, I’ve got a witchy heart as well.
Meaning, my heart has secrets.
In fact, my heart is swollen with secrets. Many, many secrets like my many, many flaws. And that is why I did what I did.
The thing that landed me here.
The little, inconsequential crime that got me sent to St. Mary’s School for Troubled Teenagers – an all-girls reform school.
Only they don’t call it a reform school anymore.
It’s not the 50s or the 60s. These days, schools like this are called therapeutic school. Because they believe in therapy. And restoration and reformation. They believe in teaching us to be productive members of society.
Who’sus?
We’re the bad and hopeless girls.
We’re the girls who break rules and love rebellion. We don’t like school or classes. So we keep getting into trouble with our classmates and teachers. Sometimes we get expelled multiple times from multiple schools until our parents or guardians are forced to take drastic actions.
Some of us break the law too, which technically I did.
I mean, there were a couple of cops involved. They didn’t handcuff me or anything but I had to ride in their squad car and go to the police station. But there were no charges pressed. Instead, I was sent to St. Mary’s.
I’ve been here almost a week and I’m already behind. In assignments, I mean.
God, the assignments and homework.
They’re very strict about that here.
So I really shouldn’t be falling asleep in class if I want to catch up.
