Good Girls Never Rise: A Dark Boarding School Romance

“It’s no prob—"

Both of our heads turned to the sound of slow, shuffling feet down the hall and the lingering echo of a whistle. The headmaster groaned at the sight of a student slowly walking across the black-and-white checkered floor, the same checkered floor that I had stood on just minutes before in all my soaking glory. But now, there was a shift in the air. The white-and-black checkered floor seemed to be put down, tile by tile, just for this person to stride over. A flush started over my cheeks, my body suddenly feeling very hot.

The boy was very tall with broad shoulders, and he was sporting black pants that hung on his slender hips and a white dress shirt that was untucked at the bottom. Almost all of the buttons were undone, allowing a thin sliver of chest to show. A striped maroon-and-gold tie hung loosely around his neck, and then, over his shoulder, he was holding a matching maroon blazer with what seemed to be one single finger.

The closer he got, the hotter I burned. My tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth as he continued down the hall with incredibly too much swagger, and I hoped that neither he nor the headmaster spoke to me, because I wasn’t sure I could form a sentence.

I’d noticed boys like him before, at my old school, before my uncle had ripped me away. They were amongst the popular bunch, the ones that made my skin a little prickly. But this boy? He was downright dangerous because he was so captivating. I couldn’t look away, even though I wanted to. Even though I needed to.

His chin tipped to the headmaster when he was only a few yards away. I noticed the red flush over his cheeks and neck and the mark of a purple blotch just below his ear. Did someone hurt him? Or was that...

“What’s up, Uncle Tate?” He smirked, his chiseled cheeks lifting in that delicious bad-boy way.

I swallowed, the gulp working its way from my throat down to the very bottom of my belly. Suddenly, the boy's eyes flicked over to me, half hiding behind the headmaster. His head tilted in a predatory way, and I almost squeaked. Almost. The blue in his eyes matched the sky perfectly, except they glittered with something I’d only ever dreamed about.

“Get in my office right now, Isaiah.” I shifted my attention between the two, and the headmaster’s eyes were no bigger than slits across his face. Isaiah hissed a laugh under his breath as he swiveled swiftly on his shoe and walked into the office.

I let out a held breath when the headmaster turned toward me. “Please excuse me for a moment. This won’t take long.”

My lips stayed sealed as I nodded because I was honestly unable to speak. As I sat down on the bench beside the door, I waited until he shut it behind him, and then I scooted all the way up to its hinges. I could hear their voices on the other side, despite the large oak door acting as a barricade.

Isaiah’s laugh lingered through the air, and something in my stomach fluttered.

I pushed my back against the hard wall behind me as I continued to eavesdrop.

Listening and observing in the shadows and behind locked doors was my only source of power. After all, it was how I began to learn the truth.

Chapter Two

Isaiah

My uncle was absolutely livid with me. My lips rolled together as I fought to keep the smile off my face. He slammed his hands onto his messy desk and leveled me with a stony glare.

“Isaiah. What the fuck.”

A laugh was lurking in the back of my throat. “Did you just curse, Uncle Tate?”

The sound of his hand slapping against the desk again did nothing but heighten my amusement. “I’m not your uncle right now. I’m the headmaster. As much as I’d like to believe that what Mr. Clark said was a blatant lie, I know better. So go on. Start from the beginning.”

Oh, this was going to be interesting. I leaned back in the leather chair and placed my forearms down on the arms, gripping them with my hands. I ran my fingers along the small divots embedded into the leather, glancing down to the tiny moon-shaped cuts into it. “Who’s the girl out in the hall? We get a new student?”

My uncle’s face—excuse me, the headmaster’s face turned a deep shade of red. “Isaiah, so help me God. The SMC is already threatening to expel you! You understand that, don’t you?”

Of course I fucking understood that. SMC stood for St. Mary’s Committee. In other words, they were the glue that held the school together. All school decisions were run through them, as were disciplinary actions.

“Do you want me to tell your father of all the havoc you’ve been setting forth since stepping foot into St. Mary’s? If I’d told him about the fake IDs, or the fights, or the sneaking into girls’ rooms,” he growled, “or any of it…you'd be twenty feet underground, surrounded by nothing but stone walls and men twice your age breaking every bone in your body for the fucking fun of it. The committee is ready to throw you out on your ass, and your father will be livid.”

I glanced away, my chest rumbling with animosity. “Why haven’t you told him, then?” I asked, looking my uncle dead in the face. “You keep threatening it, but you have done no such thing. So why? And the SMC has been threatening to expel me for over a year.”

My uncle and father were nothing alike. My father was all business, and my Uncle Tate, despite being in charge of St. Mary’s, was lax. He didn’t typically get angry, but if he did, he got over it quickly. He had a soft spot for troublemakers.

My uncle’s eyes narrowed as he dropped his head. His hands came up, and he ran his fingers through his hair all the way to the base of his skull before giving me a look that had me wavering for a second. “Maybe I will, Isaiah. I thought…” He cleared his throat before clasping his hands together. “I thought I could help you. I’ve been you, Isaiah. I was you.” His voice grew louder, and he glanced at the door behind me before lowering it again. “I know what it’s like to be the black sheep. I’m trying to help you, Isaiah. That’s why I sent you to Ms. Glenburg for counseling, plus the SMC wanted something done with you. They wanted to see the potential in you that I see.” He chuckled sarcastically, and I took a deep breath, watching him with a careful eye. “So tell me why.”

“Why what?” I asked, sounding bored.

He leaned back in his seat, glaring at me. “Why di

d you seduce her? That’s the only reasonable explanation. Some may blame the adult in this situation, but”—my uncle crept forward, almost in a menacing way, before leaning his arms on his desk—“I blame you.”