Students walk past us on their way to the cafeteria. I’m met by curious glances, and my shoulders tense again. Everyone knows that being seen with Camille is not a good thing. You’re usually in a lot of trouble if you’re escorted by her. But fuck, it’s only the first day. And it’s only lunchtime. I haven’t even had time to do anything that might not suit Pearson.
The administration building is eerily quiet as we enter and walk through the corridor before finally reaching Pearson’s office. Camille knocks on the door, and the sound echoes in the emptyhallway. She doesn’t wait for an answer, just opens the door and waves me in. I enter the room without looking at her again and let the door close carelessly behind me.
Pearson looks up from his laptop and points to one of the two armchairs in front of his desk, which are usually reserved for parents who are worried about their children or students who have gotten themselves into some kind of mess.
“Have a seat,” he says.
In spite of the silver-gray strands in his dark hair, he seems younger than he actually is. I know his birthday, and not just because we get cake every year for it (as an exception—here, we’re taught that refined sugar is practically poison). I knew him long before I was accepted here as a student.
“Have a seat, Jase,” he repeats when I make no move to comply. I seem to have forgotten how to move. All at once, my body feels strangely numb. “We have something to talk about.” The look in his dark eyes is serious.
I suppress the urge to turn around and walk away, but I sit down in the chair anyway. Whatever he has to say, there’s no point in putting it off.
“What’s up?” I act bored, as though I don’t care at all about why he called me here. But my heart races, and I feel nauseated. My body can’t deal with these damn feelings. Insecurity and fear. I can’t do anything about them.
“I tried to reach your parents, both today and yesterday, but without success. That’s why you’re here now,” he begins.
The mere mention of my parents makes me sick to my stomach. Fuck. This can’t be good.
“So?”
“Their payment for the current school year has been withdrawn. Do you know anything about that?”
His words hit me like a punch in the solar plexus, hard and relentless, squeezing the last bit of oxygen out of my lungs.
“What?” I say, barely audibly. I stare at him, stunned. I blink, trying to understand what he just said.
“Your tuition fee has been withdrawn,” he repeats, as if I hadn’t heard him. But I did. I understood him far too well.
It’s totally clear what it means. I’m screwed.
Before
Jase
One year earlier
June25, 12:43 PM
My parents didn’t come to my graduation. Neither did my sister, my grandparents, or anyone from my family. Although part of me isn’t surprised, the disappointment burns.
I watch as Caleb and my friends are embraced by their families while I stand off to the side. My throat tightens when I see Caleb’s dad tousling his hair with a proud smile, and I quickly look away.
My gaze lands automatically on Zoe, who’s standing between Tristan and Reed. Reed has an arm around her shoulders and is tugging on a strand of her copper hair. Zoe laughs, and something inside of me tenses at the bright sound.
“Jase, where are your parents?” I flinch at the sound of Ceara’s voice. There’s an expression on her face that’s hard to interpret. A mixture of disapproval and sympathy.
I shrug and try to look indifferent. “They had an emergency patient. A high-risk pregnancy or something. There were complications during the birth.” That’s probably not even a lie. My parents are often called to emergencies. I guess that’s what it’s like when you run one of the most famous maternity clinics in the country.But that doesn’t explain why no one let me know. Or why Lia and my grandparents didn’t come either.
The truth creeps closer to the surface, but I firmly push it back. I don’t want to think about the possible reasons, because every single one of them hurts like hell.
A crease forms between Ceara’s eyebrows, and she presses her lips together so firmly that I can easily guess what she’s thinking, even if I hadn’t seen her almost every day for the past four years. In some ways, she acts more like a mother to me than my own mom.
“We’re about to take Caleb out to lunch. Would you like to join us?” She means well, but the kindness in her voice makes my shoulders tense nervously. I don’t want her pity.
“No, that’s all right. My grandparents wanted to come, but their flight was delayed. I should be at home when they arrive.” Another lie. I force myself to smile. “But thanks anyway.”
Ceara hugs me, and I stiffen before returning her embrace for a brief, weak moment.
