“Because the more fucked up you are, the more he likes you. He has a soft spot for the really messed-up ones.”
My mouth fell open as a knock sounded on the door.
Sloane slid her feet to the ground and patted my arm. “Don’t worry, Gemma. We’re all a little fucked up at St. Mary’s. You’ll fit right in.”
Then, she bounced to the door and opened it, leaving me feeling like I had rocks in the bottom of my stomach.
Chapter Four
Gemma
Pulling down the maroon blazer I was wearing, I shivered. Nerves were making my skin tingle and itch like I was standing on the edge of a cliff with someone behind me, ready to push me below into an abyss of icy-cold water with an uncertainty of everything I was about to crash into.
Yesterday evening, after Sloane deemed me as fucked up—which was more or less a good thing because she insinuated that it was pretty normal around here—the headmaster walked into our room, holding a pile of new uniforms in one hand and a cardboard box in the other.
Sloane excitedly went through the box as the headmaster gave me my schedule and handed me a school map in case I got lost after my tour with Isaiah, which never ended up happening. I didn’t tell him that, though, because I was more relieved than anything.
As soon as the headmaster left our room, Sloane laughed and said in a sing-song voice, “See?” She ushered toward the cardboard box. “He likes you.”
When she pulled me over to the box, the heavy rocks in my stomach turned to dust. Inside were school supplies, a laptop, and some twinkle lights that Sloane draped over my bed posts. It was the only thing on my side of the room that said, “I’m loved,” as I literally had nothing else to my name, not even a nice blanket, but that was okay. I slept better last night than I had in months, which wasn’t really saying much.
Picking up my new journal on my way out the door this morning, Sloane draped her arm through mine and led me down the dark, windowless hallway with tons of other girls bustling around. I even saw a few running over the blood-red carpet with towels perched on top of their heads, yelling that they were going to be late for breakfast.
Sloane and I were right on time.
“Here,” she said as she handed me a tray and nodded over to the lunch line. The cafeteria was just as medieval as the rest of the school. Large, wooden tables sat parallel to one another with seats fit for a king on both ends. On the sides were long benches, which seemed to be where mostly everyone sat.
“Wow,” I whispered, pulling steaming oatmeal—which seemed to appear out of nowhere—onto my tray. The smell of cinnamon filled my senses, and I sighed wistfully.
Sloane nodded back at me. “I know. The food is pretty good here.”
I said nothing as she pulled me by the elbow toward a table closest to the two French doors. We sat at the end, near no one in particular, but before long, the entire table was filled up, and everyone was whispering and staring in my direction. I pulled at my white collar underneath my scratchy maroon blazer and rubbed at the hives along my neck.
I was used to going unnoticed, pushed away into the shadows, keeping my mouth shut, and following the rules. I was submissive and quiet by nature because I knew my place, and I knew what would happen if I stepped a toe out of line. So this? This was awful.
“Everyone…” Sloane slowly stood up, gaining everyone’s attention. My face was on fire as I dipped my head down low, my dark locks swaying over my face. Part of me wanted to straighten my spine and prove to myself that I wasn’t that quiet, passive girl I was bred to be, but old habits died hard. “This is Gemma. My new roommate.”
The entire dining hall went quiet except for the clanking of silverware and opening of milk cartons. Sloane cleared her throat, and I peeked up to what felt like five million pairs of eyes on me. I scanned over their faces quickly, like the fast forwarding on a VCR, and felt a tiny bout of disappointment. At first, I wasn’t sure why. I didn’t expect—or want—to make many friends. It was too hard for me to keep up my normalcy, not to mention keep my story straight. And also, I had big plans that didn’t involve a single person here. But when the French doors clamored open again and everyone’s attention swung toward them, I realized right then why I’d felt the slight twinge of disappointment.
Isaiah. I’d been scanning the long dining table for him. I’d been searching for those icy eyes that had sparked something to life in me yesterday.
My face flamed even brighter with the thought. I was wading in unknown waters, unknowingly chasing after something so completely foreign to me that I didn’t even know what to call it.
Sloane plopped back down beside me, picking up her spoon and pushing it into her gooey oatmeal. “And just like that, the attention is off of you.”
I blinked several times, unable to look away from Isaiah and what looked to be his pack of friends as they slowly prowled into the dining hall with so much commanding, hot authority I actually started to sweat.
“Wh—what?” I stuttered, trailing over each of them before landing back on Isaiah. They were all flawless. Each and every last one of them. Tall…some leaner than others, but they all appeared to be in good physical strength—like Tobias. I could still see him thr
ough the darkness of my room as he did a million and one push-ups in the middle of the night when he knew I couldn’t sleep. He always stayed until I fell asleep, even when I begged him to go back to his room so he didn't get in trouble.
I sighed softly, pushing away the memory. Isaiah and his friends’ school blazers fit their broad shoulders tightly, and somehow they each had a type of air surrounding them, like they were totally unbothered by a single thing in the world. Lazily hot, with so much confidence that everyone was forced to stare. Authoritative, in a way, which was something that wasn’t completely unknown to me.
I quickly turned my head from the pack of guys as yet another hush fell over the dining hall. Sloane dipped her head closer to mine. “I knew the Rebels were about to walk through the doors. That’s why I made a quick intro of you, knowing the attention wouldn’t last long when they walked in. Figured it was better to get it over with then drag it out, right?” She went back into her own personal bubble, giving me room to breathe before shrugging. “You’re introverted. You’re a lot like my last roommate, and she would have hated having attention on her.”
My lip twitched at the corner. It was a nice thing that she did, whereas before, I kind of wanted to knock her chair over for putting me on the spot. “Thank you, Sloane.”
Her pearly whites beamed behind her pink lips before she stuffed more oatmeal in her mouth. She was pretty when she smiled, and it was a friendly one, at that. I kind of wanted to be her friend, even though I knew the friendship wouldn’t last long. But it felt like we were on that path, and I wasn’t sure I had it in me to pretend that I didn’t desperately want someone in my corner.