Good Girls Never Rise: A Dark Boarding School Romance

Understatement of the year. “I don’t.” I wrapped my hand tighter around my bag of chips, feeling incredibly vulnerable for saying that out loud. If Richard heard that confirmation come out of my mouth, I’d be chained up for weeks until I proved to him that it wasn’t true. “But…” I looked away, almost suffocated with the words that wanted to come out.

A throat cleared from behind me, and I jumped so far I bumped into Isaiah. His free hand wrapped around my waist to steady me as I searched the dark library for whoever had made themselves known.

“What are you two doing in here?” The librarian, who I recognized from the other day, pushed her glasses up so she could see us better. “It’s after curfew. The library is closed, hence the lights being off.”

The older woman skittered her gaze past me and locked onto Isaiah. “Out after curfew again, Mr. Underwood. I wish I could say I was surprised.” The cool disappointment was clear in her tone, and for some reason, that set a fine line of protection through me.

Stepping forward out of Isaiah’s grasp, I plastered a soft smile onto my face. “Actually, I’m here to tutor Isaiah. Didn’t the headmaster tell you?”

She eyed me cautiously. The whites of her eyes moved quickly as she scanned my face. “He did no such thing.”

I peered back at Isaiah. I could tell she didn’t believe me; there was a certain hitch to her voice along with a knowing glint in her eye. Knowing what? I wasn’t exactly sure. She probably assumed I was one of the willing girls that Isaiah shoved into closets to mess around with. My face heated at the thought—more so because curiosity tickled the back of my brain again.

I slowly turned back around. “Well, the headmaster said that if anyone gave us trouble, to direct them to him. Isaiah is failing his classes, and I was asked by the SMC to tutor him in here after lacrosse to bring his grades up.” I smiled sweetly, and it felt like I was falling into my past self whenever I was questioned by Richard when he thought I was lying about something. I could play this part well—so well that it felt like slipping into my own skin. “We can walk down to his office together, if you’d like. I don’t mind at all. It’ll give Isaiah a chance to gather his study materials anyway.”

The woman looked at Isaiah and then back to me. The library keys dangled in her hands as she jostled the books in her arms. I could see the leeriness fade as she bounced her attention back and forth between us again. “That’s okay, dear. I can check with him on my way out. Just make sure you two lock up when you’re done.”

I smiled once more. “Of course.”

Before she turned around, she leveled Isaiah with another withering stare that only older ladies seemed to possess. I silently laughed, remembering Auntie giving that look a time or two. “Don’t get crumbs in my library, Mr. Underwood. Or else you’ll be doing Mr. Clark’s job. Got it?”

Without even looking back, I could hear the cunningness in his voice. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll lick them up if I need to.”

The older woman’s face flickered with shock before she let out an exasperated sigh and spun around. Her long dress swayed as she hurried to the door, and then she slammed it shut.

My free hand found my hip as I spun around. “Really?”

Isaiah’s cheek lifted as he casually shrugged. “What?”

“You’ll lick them up if you need to? Who even says that?”

Isaiah’s smile grew wider, and my eyes went right to the dimple in his cheek. I felt my own lips tingle with the need to smile but gritted my teeth together so I wouldn’t. If there was one thing I’d already learned from Isaiah, it was that he didn’t need any more encouragement.

“Her reaction was entertaining. Could you imagine what she’d do if I actually bent down and licked the floor?” He paused, looking thoughtful. “Do you think she’d be mad?”

I sighed. “I think I can see why the SMC is tired of you. And it has nothing to do with your grades.”

His hand fell to his chest as if he were gripping his heart. “Ouch. Bring back the nice Gemma who just batted her eyelashes at the meanest old bat in this school and somehow got a smile in return.” He chuckled. “I didn’t even know Mrs. Groves could smile.”

I rolled my eyes as I breezed past him, heading straight to one of the long tables. “It’s called having respect.” I knew everything there was about that tiny word. Richard made me memorize it, and I was pretty sure I could recite the Merriam-Webster definition in my sleep.

Isaiah’s bag crinkled again, and I peered over my shoulder, watching as he tipped his head back and put it up to his mouth to eat the leftover chip crumbs. A wistful thought flew through me as I recalled seeing Tobias do that on the rare occasion that we were given an unhealthy snack as a child. A small bag of chips to us was a once-a-year treat.

Pushing the thought away, I shouted over my shoulder to Isaiah. “Better not get those on the floor.”

The now-empty bag had vanished from his face as a devilish smirk appeared. The silvery moonlight hit the side of his chiseled jaw as he flashed me his white teeth. Then, he lifted his finger and popped it into his mouth, sucking it to remove the salt from the tip. My small, teasing smile instantly vanished as something forbiddingly hot fell to the bottom of my stomach. I jerked my head away and pulled out my chair, slinking into it as sweat coated my hairline.

I heard his shuffling feet before he appeared at the other side of the table. The chair creaked as he sat down, his empty bag of chips lying beside my half-full one. “You think I don’t have respect for authority?” he asked as he leaned back onto the chair, tipping it back far enough that I just had to look at his face. “I told her I would clean up after myself.”

A breath left my lips. “You made her uncomfortable.”

He smirked. “I can’t control others' reactions.”

My brow creased as Isaiah pushed my bag of chips to me, nodding to them. I gingerly stuck my hand in the bag and pulled a chip out, not bothering to put it up to my lips. “But you can control your actions,” I reiterated, pushing the chip back into the bag. “Actually, now that we’re on the subject of actions…care to tell me what was up with earlier? Why did you kiss my cheek in front of everyone?”

And why did I like it?

Isaiah stilled, his chair balancing on only two legs. I glanced up at the small lamp that sat on the table between us, and my fingers itched to turn it on so I could see his face better. “I’ll answer yours, if you answer mine.”