“Is that a high school?” I ask no one in particular.
“It’s a private elite college.” Lucian answers. “Specializing in focusing more on certain areas of study.”
“They maintain higher standards than most colleges.” Preston adds.
I nod. “I see.”
“Lucian was the golden boy.” Derek takes a drink.
“Except the floors were uneven.” Max snickers.
The room fills with laughter and Lucian hurls a pillow at Max with surprising accuracy.
“Do you have plans for college?” Derek asks.
I open my mouth, then close it again. My pulse quickens.
I swallow. “I really hadn’t thought too much about school. I never thought I’d be able to afford it.”
“Well, good thing Lucian’s loaded so you can do whatever you want now.” Max smiles.
Lucian rolls his eyes.
“But I didn’t apply anywhere.”
“You’re an Ashthorne, you don’t have to apply.” Preston shrugs.
“There’s a spot for you at Blackmoore Academy, since you’re part of the Ashthorne legacy,” Savvy says.
“Is school something you want to do?” Lucian asks, leaning forward.
“If I don’t, what would I be doing? Become a spoiled, rich brat that just lies around?”
“She’s got it.” Max claps, laughing.
I shake my head with a small smile. “I’d rather go to school. I want a better life, but I don’t want things just handed to me.”
Lucian beams. “That’s my Gracie.”
“You can let us know how the floors are.” Max cackles.
“Have you ever been ice skating?” Derek’s eyes sparkle.
“You’re all insufferable.” Lucian groans.
The summer passesin slow motion—each day softer than the last, like the universe is learning not to touch me so roughly.
Training with Savvy every morning is the highlight to my day. Max and Derek join us on occasion, and I get to learn different fighting styles.
I ask Savvy why they all learned to fight and she said it was just a part of their lives. Being in security and living among the elite, they needed to learn how to protect themselves.
The training with Savvy is brutal but necessary. At first, my body feels foreign. Awkward. Weak. I bruise easily, forget to breathe, mess up the footwork. But I don’t quit.
Dakota joins me sometimes, offering quiet tips between rounds.
“Keep your elbow tucked,” she says. “Pivot from your core. You’ll hit harder.”
She’s not competitive about it. Just supportive. Sometimes we stay after Savvy leaves and spar a little. She pulls her punches but never underestimates me. I start to appreciate that more than I expected.
