Queen of Hawthorne Prep

“I’ve got it,” he grunts in response.

It might appear as if we’re one unit, moving toward the three-story stone building, but nothing could be further from the truth. No longer are we two parts of the same whole. We couldn’t be any further apart if we were standing on opposite shores of the same ocean. When sadness mushrooms up, I quickly snuff out the useless emotion.

Our feet slow as we reach my locker, and he silently hands over my backpack.

“Thank you,” I force myself to say.

He jerks his head into a nod before taking off down the hall without another word. Confusion swirls through me as I stare after him.

“Hey, girl.”

My gaze shifts to Everly and I hoist my smile, not wanting her to glimpse the turmoil that swirls beneath the surface. “Hi.” I lower my voice before adding, “Thanks again for coming with me to the doctor.”

“It wasn’t a problem.” She flashes a grin. “Who knows, maybe at some point, you’ll have to return the favor.”

I really hope not.

Then I remember that Everly knows nothing about the unexpected pregnancy.

I force a cheerfulness to my voice that feels strangely foreign. I can’t remember the last time I felt any genuine happiness. It’s like I’m in the middle of a shit storm with no way out. “Oh? Is there someone you have an eye on?”

“Hardly,” she snorts. “I’m destined to be a lone, lonely, loner.”

A chuckle escapes from my lips. That’s doubtful. Everly might be oblivious to the way the boys around here look at her like she’s a juicy Big Mac they want to sink their teeth into, but I’m not. The long auburn hair that cascades down her back in a wavy curtain is in perfect contrast to her vibrant blue-green colored eyes and clear porcelain complexion. Add a curvy body to that list and it’s a wonder she isn’t fighting the guys off with a stick.

“But that doesn’t seem to be the case for you.” She steps closer and lowers her voice. “Spill it, sister. What’s going on with Kingsley? I noticed you two walk in together.”

I shrug. “I’m not sure. It’s—”

“Complicated?” she finishes with a good-natured smirk.

“Yeah.” A smile tugs at my lips as I nod. “Sorry for being so secretive. Maybe some day, I’ll explain everything, but I can’t do that right now.”

“That’s too bad,” she says with a pout. “Something tells me it’s a good story.”

She has no idea. And it’s probably better that way.

When I remain silent, Everly reaches over and squeezes my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just being a nosy bitch.”

“You ready for class?” a deep voice interrupts.

Both of our heads whip up.

Kingsley.

My gaze collides with his. It’s all too easy to become trapped within his dark depths as the world falls away and I forget to breathe. For a sliver of a moment, he’s nothing more than the gorgeous boy I met on the beach. The one who made me laugh. The one I couldn’t stop thinking about for months afterward.

If only it were possible for the past to fall away as easily.

Chapter Thirty

“Ms. Hawthorne?”

I glance up from the paper I’m drafting on Wuthering Heights. “Yes, ma’am?”

Normally, I try to avoid conversing with Ms. Pettijohn as much as possible. It’s no secret that the woman scares the crap out of me.

“Would you deliver this packet to Mrs. Baxter in the office?”

“Sure.” I rise to my feet and force myself to her desk at the front of the classroom. “Should I leave right now?”

The older teacher glances at the digital clock on the wall. There are five minutes remaining. “Why don’t you gather up your belongings and take them along. It’s doubtful you’ll make it back in time before the bell rings.”

Ms. Pettijohn hands over the manilla envelope and I collect my books before leaving the room. As I pass by Everly’s desk, I whisper, “See you at lunch.”

She nods and continues to work on her outline. My attention gets snagged by Duke, who sits directly behind her. The blond boy glares at the back of her head with a narrowed gaze. I don’t understand what his problem is. He took an instant dislike to Everly on the first day of school, and nothing since then has swayed his opinion.

Before this, I never paid him much attention. Maybe I was so focused on Kingsley that I never noticed the cruelty in the stern set of his lips. Or how odd it is that he’s always surrounded by classmates and yet remains separated from them.

It takes a couple of minutes to make my way through the intersecting corridors of Hawthorne Prep to the office. I push open the frosted glass door and find the school secretary sitting behind her desk, typing away at her computer. Thankfully, Mr. Pembroke, the headmaster, isn’t here. We didn’t get off on the best of terms when he threatened to expel Austin. Like most people at this godforsaken school, I get the distinct impression he doesn’t care for us simply because of our lineage.