1
MOST LIKELY TO SUCCEED
The library ismy favorite place on campus.
It’s a completely forgotten part of the school that has stayed the same even as the rest of the school has been updated and renovated. Dust covers the untouched bookshelves. The worn carpet, in all its pastel glory, is likely original to the building’s construction in the 1980s. Even the librarian Mrs. Meadows looks like she’s trapped in time with her tightly permed gray hair, cat-eye reading glasses, and cardigan buttoned up to her neck.
The first bell won’t ring for another twenty minutes, so I find a small table tucked away behind the bookshelves, only big enough for two chairs, and pull out my laptop. I want to look at my GPA and class rank one last time before the official start of my senior year. A few clicks later, I allow the smile that has been desperately tugging at the corners of my lips to spread.
I’ve won. Or, at least, I will.
Late night studying sessions, taking advantage of every extra credit opportunity, a bonus AP class over the summer. All my hard work has paid off, and I’ve solidified my spot at the top of my graduating class. My smile grows as I realize everything I’ve worked so hard for the last three years is finally within my reach. I just need to focus for one more year, and then I’m free.
With a satisfied sigh, I relax in my chair.
“What are you doing?”
My heart jumps, and I straighten back up immediately. Slamming my laptop shut, I look up. My brain registers the familiar voice as I take in her appearance. Red hair, pale skin, green eyes, and thin lips pulled into a disapproving frown.
Lily.
I put a hand to my chest and release a slow breath, trying to convince my heart that this isn’t a fight or flight moment—just my annoying best friend who knew where to find me even when I was trying to be alone. I glare at her. “You scared me,”
“Don’t give me that look, Ella.” She plops down in the empty seat across from me. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be staring at your GPA for the next hour and would miss the morning assembly altogether.”
My fingers run over the smooth lid of my computer. “I wasn’t staring at…” The words die on my lips when I see Lily’s raised brows. I wince. “How did you know?”
Lily laughs, any annoyance in her expression replaced with a smile. “How did I know that my over-achieving bestfriend was in her favorite hiding place on campus looking at her grades?” She taps her finger to her lips. “No clue.”
I slide my laptop off the table to put it in my backpack. “I just wanted to look.”
“Because you haven’t looked at it recently?”
I don’t say anything.
“I swear, you’re worse than that little gremlin thing and his ring.”
“Do you mean Gollum?”
She motions at the top of her head. “Is that the thing with the stringy hair and terrible posture?”
I blink at her. It’s not like I’m some hardcoreLord of the Ringsfan, but I thought the basic plot was pretty common knowledge. “Yeah.”
She smiles brightly. “Then yes. You’re like Gollum with your grades.” Her voice is gravelly when she adds, “My special.”
Now I know she’s messing with me. I clear my throat. “Precious.”
Lily tips her chin in a small bow. “Thank you.”
“No...” I shake my head. “The ring is his precious, not his special.”
“Whatever. Your grades are your”—she lifts her hands to make air quotes—“precious.”
I slump back in my seat. It’s not like I’m the only one who cares about grades. Citrus Prep is one of the most prestigious and expensive private schools in Central Florida. Parents send their kids here because they want them to get into great colleges. Lily just likes to give me a hard timebecause I’m slightly more obsessive over my grades than most. And why wouldn’t I be? Being valedictorian is the only way to earn the title of Citrus Scholar—and the accompanying prize is no small thing. Whoever is named Citrus Scholar gets a full-ride to the college of their choice.
“Come on. We’re going to be late.” Lily slings her backpack over her shoulder.
I follow her out into the hallway, and Lily loops her arm in mine as we head toward the auditorium. Considerably more people are here now than when I first got to school. Loud shrieks of first day reunions echo off the tile floors and metal lockers. I catch small snippets of conversations as we walk down the hall. Everyone is talking about their summer vacations, class schedules, and who hooked up with whom over the break.
