“Yeah, he was the best player on the team. Even better than—” He stops and looks down.
“Better than Braden?” I ask, knowing he wanted to say it but didn’t because of his loyalty to Braden, and because I might tell him since I’m his cousin.
“Follow me,” Dante says. “I’ll show you where the room is.”
“You can just tell me. I don’t want you to be late.”
He chuckles. “I’m on the team.”
“Yeah? So?”
“I can be as late as I want.”
Special treatment for athletes. I thought that was more of a college thing, but apparently, high schools do it too, even small private high schools that claim to be all about academics.
Dante goes down one of the long hallways, stopping at a room at the very end. He peeks through the window in the door and smiles. “Good luck.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“You got Mr. Piedmont. He talks really fast. It’s hard to keep up. And he calls on you if you’re not paying attention and gives out tons of homework.”
“Great,” I say with a sigh.
He turns and smiles at me. “Come find me at lunch. I’ll be at Braden’s table.”
He’s gone before I can tell him I won’t be there. There’s no way Braden would let me sit there on the first day. He’d say I have to earn a seat at his table. He’s so obnoxious.
When I open the door to the classroom, everyone stares at me.
“Sorry I’m late,” I say to the teacher.
“Class doesn’t start for two more minutes. Please take your seat.”
The only ones open are in the very back. At my old school, those were the seats that were taken first.
Making my way back there, I hear the teacher clearing his throat.
“Excuse me, Miss.”
Is he talking tome? I turn around and see him staring in my direction.
“Please introduce yourself to the class.”
At my old school, the teacher would introduce the new person. They didn’t make the student do it.
When I don’t respond, Mr. Piedmont says, “Class, we have a new student joining the Twisted Pine family. But apparently she’s a little shy.”
“I’m Rumor,” I say, taking my seat.
Everyone’s eyes are glued on me. Why are they staring? Do they never get new students here?
“We use one’s entire name here,” Mr. Piedmont says. “Last names are just as important as firsts.”
Because it tells you if the person’s family is rich or famous or both. I’m quickly learning that who you are as a person doesn’t matter here.
“Rumor Bennet,” I pause, remembering the plan. “Halliway.”
The eyes that were on me suddenly move around to the other people in the room, like they’re trying to figure out if I’m one ofthoseHalliways or if I just happen to have the same name.
