Raina
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I drop Ariel off at his bike, then head home. I still have a ton of homework to get started on if I want to get a head start on my classes, but all I really want is to take a hot shower, grab a cup of coffee, and curl up with a book. The house is empty when I let myself in, padding through the kitchen to start the coffee pot. There's enough light left from the setting sun to see, so I don't bother turning on the overhead.
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My phone chimes, and I check the notifications.
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Gabriel Ziegler would like to connect!
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I snort and dismiss the request. I'm not falling for that trap. My phone buzzes again, and I frown at the text coming through.
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Don't you want to be friends?
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Really? I remember Ariel's statement about the Angels, how they pretty much did as they pleased. I suppose tracking down a phone number isn't that hard.
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New phone. Who is this?
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My coffee is ready, so I pour myself a cup and carry it upstairs before responding to the flurry of messages.
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Three guesses.
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??
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Well?
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????
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Impatient much? I toss the phone on my bed while I pull out pajamas and unbraid my hair. I carry my clothes and coffee into the bathroom, closing the door on the incessantly buzzing phone. I take my time washing my hair and shaving my legs. Once I'm comfy in my jammies, with my hair wrapped in a towel, I go back to clear the dozens of notifications.
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I ignore most of them, deleting the texts from Gabe without reading them, but I smile at the meme Ariel sent me and send a quick message to Jenna, letting her know I'm back safely and headed to bed.
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My messages chime again, and I sigh, realizing I'm going to have to silence them. Ariel's FB message is a nice break in the middle of a flurry of texts from numbers I don't recognize.
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Coffee? Same time, same place? My treat?
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I settle back against my headboard and hit reply.
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Sounds good.
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His reply is lightning fast.
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Sleep well, beautiful. See you soon.
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I close the window and start blocking the numbers attached to the unread messages. The phone buzzes in my hand with an incoming call, and I dismiss it as well. Hitting the Do Not Disturb, I set my alarm and plug the phone into the charger.
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Tomorrow's another day closer to going home, I remind myself as I turn out the lights.
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****
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I'm surprised to find Jenna sitting at the breakfast nook when I come downstairs in the predawn gloom. From the flawless application of her make-up, it's obvious she's been up at least as long as I have, despite her champagne silk dressing gown. She's putting the fancy French press coffee maker on the table as I walk in, and the scent of bacon and fresh baked pastries fills the air.
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"Raina, honey." She smiles at me sweetly and I feel caution run cool fingers down my spine. "I felt so bad about not seeing you last night, so I thought we could have breakfast together. I want to hear all about your first day."
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The last thing I want to do is talk about what's going on with school.
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"It's fine." She hands me a cup of coffee, and I hover awkwardly over the table to add cream and sugar. "School is school, wherever you go, right?"
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She makes a non-committal noise.
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"Courtney said you had a little… run-in… with the Reeves boy."
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"Just a case of mistaken identity," I say. My palms are damp and I rub them over my skirt like I'm trying to smooth the stupid pleats.
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"Still. The Reeves are clients of Warren's. You should avoid any more of these little mistakes." Her eyes narrow at me over her coffee cup.
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"I'll do my best." I grab my coffee and start for the stairs. "I'm gonna grab my bag and head out. Thanks for the talk."
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"Raina!"
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I smooth my face into neutral lines before turning back to Jenna.
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"I don't care what kind of trash your grandfather let you slum around with. But as long as you're under this roof, there won't be any more of those lowlife boys sniffing around. Understood?"
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My fingers fold into fists. For a long moment I look into my mother's cold blue eyes before nodding.
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"Understood."
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Courtney is hovering at the top of the stairs, twirling her honey streaked curls around her fingers. Her satisfied smirk makes my palm itch with the desire to slap her, but I keep walking. Joaquin's door creaks, and I see his brown eyes peering out through the crack. I give the kid a wink and he ducks back, shy as always.
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I'm shoving the last of my books into my bag when Courtney pushes open my door.
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"You need to take the brat to school. The nanny has the flu or something."
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Joaquin stands behind her, looking miserable. His shirt is buttoned crooked, hanging out of his khakis, and his light brown hair is sticking up in the back. I bite my tongue to keep from asking why Jenna can't take him. I should know better than anyone that the woman doesn't have a maternal bone in her body.
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"Okay," I say neutrally. If they think a little babysitting is going to bother me, they're going to be disappointed. She flounces off, and I wave my six year old half brother in the door.
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"Just you and me, huh, Wa-wa?"
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He gives me wide eyes, and I grab my hairbrush off the dresser, smoothing his wayward cowlick before dropping to my knees to fix his buttons.
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"Sorry," he whispers, clutching his backpack straps. I think it might be the fifth word he's said to me in the entire time I've been here. I feel guilty, realizing he's still practically a baby, and I haven't exactly been very nice to him.
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"No worries. Isn't this what big sisters are for?" I grab my phone and send a quick text to Ariel, apologizing for breaking our coffee date. It buzzes back, and I can't help but laugh at his emoji response.
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"Let's get you to school, little dude." He grabs my hand as we clatter down the stairs. I stop in the kitchen long enough to grab a pastry and some bacon off the abandoned breakfast table, wrapping them in one of the fancy linen napkins. Joaquin's eyes widen as we stop next to the Beast, looking up at the door above his head.
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"Back seat, buddy." I pull the passenger seat forward and bend to pick him up, swinging him easily into the cab.
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"You're strong," he giggles, climbing onto the bench seat and fumbling with the seat belt. I climb up on the running board to help him with the buckle.
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"Well, duh. You gotta be strong to work on a ranch." He wrinkles his snub nose and I hand him the food. "Eat up, dude. We better get going."
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He nods with his mouth full, and squeals when I slide into the driver's seat and turn the key. I look at his delighted face in the rearview and grin, remembering how much I loved riding in this old truck when I was a kid. I punch his school name into the GPS of my phone, sliding it into the hands free cradle.
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By the time we pull into the drop off line, he's loosened up enough to start chattering like a little monkey, mainly about how cool my truck is and how impressed his friends are going to be. I listen to him with amusement- loving monster trucks seems to be hardwired into all boys, country and city. I park behind a BMW, waving off the teacher who starts for the passenger door, and hop out to help Joaquin down. He clings to my neck as I step down from the truck, and I realize no one told me if I'm supposed to pick him up.
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"Do you have a phone, buddy?" He nods, pulling a bright green shock proof case from his backpack. I put my number in while the teacher waits for us, and hand it back to him.
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"If you need me, you call me, okay?" He nods at me solemnly, and lets the teacher take his hand. I'm halfway around the Beast when he collides with the backs of my legs in a fierce hug.
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"You're my favorite sister," he says. I squat down to give him a quick hug.
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"You're not so bad for a little brother," I tease. I scoot him off towards the teacher and get back in the Beast, shaking my head. It's a pretty shitty world for a kid when all it takes to be their favorite is a ride to school.
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I'm predictably late to my first class, but it doesn't matter. As soon as I slip in the door, the teacher directs me to the office. The secretary has me wait while she makes a phone call, then indicates the door behind her.
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"Miss Silver." The middle aged woman behind the desk tilts her head at the chairs arranged in front of her, waiting until I take a seat to speak.
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"I'm Mrs. Perkins, the dean here at Sullivan Prep. meant to have you in yesterday, to welcome you to our school, but I'm afraid it slipped my mind in the first day rush."
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"That's okay." I fold my hands in my lap, keeping my feet flat on the floor, and plaster on my best neutral, pleasant face. "I found my way around."
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"Yes." She looks down at the paperwork on her desk, drawing the word out thoughtfully. "So I've heard. You do realize, we have a very strict code of conduct here at Sullivan? One which includes no fighting?"
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"I wouldn't dream of starting a fight, ma'am." I give her a sweet smile. She harrumphs and leans back in her chair.
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"I've read your transcripts, Miss Silver. You're obviously not stupid."
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I just look at her, waiting for her to get to the point. After a moment, she sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose like she's got a headache.
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"I can understand your feelings," she finally says. "I'm sure it's not easy to leave behind your whole life and have to learn a whole new set of rules. But you're going to have to make the best of it." She flips through a few pages and pulls out a form. "I'm going to assign you a student guide, for your first week. They'll help you settle into life here at Sullivan, show you the ropes."
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I gnaw on the inside of my cheek, wanting to argue. She raises her eyebrows at me, but I stay silent. Passing the paper across to me, she rises, giving me the cue to leave. I shake her offered hand, and she holds on to it for a moment, her gaze steely.
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"Miss Silver. I hope we won't have any more conversations like this?"
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"No, ma'am."
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She nods, releasing me, and I leave the office, looking at the paper in my hand. There's a girl hovering by the door, her square face set in a scowl, and she moves in front of me as I start to pass.
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"You're Raina?"
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I take a minute to answer, looking her over. She looks vaguely familiar from some of my classes yesterday, but there's nothing friendly in her face. Her chestnut hair is pulled back severely, and her blue eyes behind her black rimmed glasses are hard. She's obviously not happy with her new job, and I'm not sure I blame her.
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"Guilty," I reply with a smile. "But really, you don't have to-"
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"I need the extra padding for my college applications." She cuts me off, and turns on her heel to lead me out the door. "I'm Brittany," she throws back over her shoulder. I follow her without comment to the door of our history class.
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She hands the teacher a pass and practically shivers me into one of the empty desks at the front. There's a flurry of whispers and giggles behind us, and I try to ignore them, typing notes into my laptop. Something strikes my screen, and I pick up the wadded paper with my thumb and forefinger, setting it off to the side. I have no interest in whatever drama is going on.
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My phone buzzes non-stop in my bag, and I ignore it as well. My internal countdown is still ticking over, but now I've added a new one. I look up at the clock in the front of the room, calculating the hours and minutes until I can get out of this place.
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