Manners dictated I acknowledge her with a ‘nice to meet you’, but I was having some trouble getting the words out. I simply nodded and pushed the covers off me. “I guess I’ll see about getting my trunk brought up.”
She didn’t get up, but moved her head, cocking it so she could look up at me now that I was standing. “Why?”
“Because one of us is leaving, and I’m guessing it will be me.” Unless you’re moving to some sort of palace suite, I didn’t say. I turned away from her, heading to the bathroom, the one where I’d been so careful not to take up too much space with my things. All for nothing.
“Wait!” she said, her tone sharp.
I crossed my arms over my chest.
She sat up, the comforter falling, exposing her tank top and pooling in her lap. I was shocked to realize she’d made her bed—I would have just flopped down on the bare mattress if I’d come in so late after a whole day of travel.
Maybe even more surprising was that I’d been able to sleep through it all.
She scrubbed her hands over her face; she looked a lot more plain without all the diamonds and her hair down and in tangles, although she hadn’t bothered to take off her makeup, making her look like an angry raccoon. “Sorry. I’m so tired and jet-lagged. Don’t go. My parents were horrible to you and I think I was too, and I’m sorry for that. They are terrible snots at the best of times, let alone at one a.m. or whatever time it was that we barged in here last night.”
“It was after two,” I corrected.
She exhaled and looked up at me. “Two. I’m sorry. They were on my last nerve and I’m sure I came across like a horrible witch. I assure you, I’m not one, though I can’t say the same for my mother. Can we please start again?” she gave me a weak smile. “I’m Emmeline. Emmie to my friends, and I’d really like it if we were roommates. Please, please disregard my parents’ rudeness.”
“But you could have a private room,” I said, suddenly wondering if I hadn’t dreamed some of last night’s conversation.
“Yes, but I don’t want one. I want to be a normal girl here. Well,” she gave me a goofy grin. “As normal as any of us are.”
I gave her a smile. “Really? So I don’t have to pack?”
She shook her head. “Not for many months.”
I dropped back down onto my bed. “Thank God. It was a big enough job getting unpacked.”
Emmeline—Emmie—smiled and nodded toward her luggage. “That’s my job for today. I’m still exhausted but kind of wired; I’m still on France time. And based on your accent, you sound like you know what I’m talking about.”
I nodded. “Yes, but I’ve been in the States for a few days visiting my grandmother before I came to Rosewood. My parents are still back in London, but we’re originally from here.”
“I wish my parents could have sent me on my own,” she said, stretching her arms above her head until I heard one of her shoulders crack. “But they like to visit their investment at least once a year.” She ended her stretch and did air quotes around the word investment.
I frowned. “They consider you an investment?”
“Hardly,” she said, laughing. “The Somerville library is their contribution to the school. It’s the big red building in the back; a bunch of classrooms and a new library. They like to throw their money around and Mom attended here, so…” she waved her arm, not bothering to finish her sentence.
“What do your parents do?” I asked. They had to do something impressive to have funded their own building on campus.
She shrugged, “Fossil fuels mostly. You know, dig-up-dead-dinosaurs-and-kill-the-earth stuff.” She looked around the room obviously finished with that topic of conversation. “I guess I should start unpacking, although all I want to do is go back to bed.”
“Won’t they give you a break today since you just got in?” And you’re a VIP, I thought, but kept to myself.
She shook her head and stood up, stretching again, taking a few steps on her tiptoes. “I don’t want a break. I want to be like everyone else.” She combed her fingers through her hair and cringed. “And I can’t exactly let everyone see me like this, so I’d better get moving.”
It was still early; breakfast wasn’t until 8 and classes were starting late after our 9 a.m. welcome assembly with the dean, for this, our first day. “I can help you unpack,” I offered.
Emmie’s eyes lit up. “Really? You’d do that for me after how heinous my parents were to you last night?”
Smiling at her, I said, “Sure. I may be new around here, but your parents aren’t my roommates and from what I hear, Rosewoods look after each other.”
Emmie smiled back. “You are shockingly nice. Thank you.”
But what turned out to be shocking between us had absolutely nothing to do with me.
Emmeline Reinvented
Emmie pushed me toward the bathroom, telling me she needed a few minutes to wake up and get herself sorted, so I may as well shower and get ready for my day. Not needing extra encouragement to take a hot shower, I left her to it and enjoyed a nice long one, washing off the sleep and some of the stress over starting at a new school.
So far, Rosewood was turning out okay—the room mix-up had been solved quickly, the food had been good at dinner the night before (Celia had said with all the wealthy families, they couldn’t get away with anything less than a five star chef) and all the girls I’d met so far were really nice.
And then there was Will. As I dried my hair, I allowed myself to think about him and wondered when I’d get to see him again. Chelly had said we’d have lots of opportunities to see the Westwood boys, but when?
I smirked at myself in the mirror; I was a little obsessed maybe, having met the guy once and already smitten. But that smile, the blue eyes, the cut of his angular face, not to mention his sense of humor and the attention he gave me. Who wouldn’t be?
Although, if I was being honest, Evan, or Jenks, as Will had called him, was pretty fine, too. I normally wasn’t into gingers, but he was a cross between Prince Harry and that actor, Michael Fassbender, and with his dry sense of humor, he came in a close second and if Will turned out not to be interested or available, I wouldn’t be overly disappointed with him as a boyfriend.
And then there was the guy at the stables, Brady. He was enough to make a girl swoon with his dark hair and amber eyes. And that he loved horses was just an added bonus. But he was probably off limits; I figured staff weren’t allowed to date students, even though he seemed really young.
“Right, Brooklyn,” I said aloud to my reflection. “The new girl just walks in and gets her choice of cute guy.” Doubtful. Evan and Will probably had not given me another thought after they dropped me and my trunk at Celia’s room. And Brady probably just wanted to humor me and get me out of the stables so he could go home.
I finished up with my hair and started in on makeup turning my thoughts to more productive things, like worrying about my first day of classes.
A few minutes later, when I was finished, I stepped out into my bedroom to find I’d changed roommates again.
~♥~
There was a girl sitting at Emmie’s desk, facing away from me. I couldn’t see her face, but it couldn’t be Emmeline with her long blond hair—this girl had short hair.
I looked around the corner to see if Emmie was in the closet, putting stuff away, but no. I looked back at the girl. She had a pixie cut that didn’t even cover her neck. Well, it did, in places, but to be frank, it looked like she’d pulled it all into a ponytail and hacked it off.
But as she turned around to face me, I realized that’s exactly what she had done. It was Emmeline.
“What have you done?” I gasped, my hands lifting to my mouth involuntarily. I mean, this girl didn’t seem manic, but what else would make her cut her hair like that?
She was smiling as she ran her fingers through her hair, making it stand up. “I cut off my hair. What do you think?”
I think you’re nuts. ?
??Why?” I asked, not answering her question out loud.
She shrugged. “I do it every fall.”
I looked around. “Without a mirror?”
“Well no, not usually, but I’ll tidy it up now that you’re out of the bathroom.” She was obviously amused by my disbelief. “It’s just hair. My parents freak out about it short, so I let it grow for the summer, but I can’t stand it and was dying to get rid of it. I couldn’t wait one second longer.”
Obviously. But it was unbelievable. This girl probably had more money than God and instead of going to a proper stylist, she lopped off her hair and, I realized with a glance to the wastepaper basket in the corner, threw it out like it was an empty Doritos bag.
She followed my glance and winced. “I know, it’s wasteful, but it wasn’t long enough to donate. I’ll start growing it out earlier this year so it gets long enough.”
“Huh?” I asked.
“For wigs. You know, for cancer patients. It has to be a certain length or they can’t use it.”
I just stared at the crazy girl in front of me.
She smiled back. “What?” she said, looking suddenly shy.
I shook my head. “You’re brilliant, that’s all.”
She jumped up from her chair and gave me a big hug. “We’re going to get along just great.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but her cell beeped and she pulled away.
“A text from Dave, my boyfriend. He’s anxious to see me—we haven’t been together since last spring.”
“Since you left for France?” I asked.
She glanced down at her phone and started pressing keys. “No, since I left here at the end of the school year. He goes to Westwood. That’s the boys’ school.” She stopped texting and looked up at me and waggled her eyebrows. “Where you’ll find your next boyfriend.”
I laughed. It was like she’d read my mind.
“Unless you already have a boyfriend and are doing the long-distance thing.”
“London is more long distance than I could handle,” I said. She didn’t need to know I never had a boyfriend in London.
“Right you are. Well, don’t you worry. There are a ton of guys to choose from at Westwood.”
Her phone beeped again. She rolled her eyes and looked down. “Patience, young man. You will see me soon, I promise.”
But I could tell by the way she grinned at her phone, Emmie was just as eager to see her boyfriend as he was to see her.
“How long have you been going out?”
“We hooked up after the Christmas dance last year.”
“Sounds serious,” I said.
She looked up, “I guess so. It feels weird, you know; it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other. We’ve Skyped and stuff, but it’s not the same. I miss smelling him and touching him; I just hope it’s the same as it was.”
I thought about Will and how good he’d smelled the day before, his mixture of subtle cologne and clean sweat.
“I met a guy yesterday,” I said, feeling stupid even mentioning it.
“From Westwood?”
I nodded. “He helped me move in. Not that I think I really have a chance with him, but still.”
“What are you talking about? Don’t have a chance with him?” She gave me an obvious once-over. “You’re plenty doable.”
“Thanks,” I said with a laugh.
“Okay, so I’m going to get ready real quick and then start unpacking and you can tell me all about this boy you met. I probably know him if he’s not a freshman.” She glanced at her luggage and exhaled, her shoulders dropping. “You still sure you want to help?”
I looked at the alarm clock. “We have about a half an hour.”
She cringed and heaved one of her huge suitcases onto her bed before unzipping it.
“You go,” I said, waving her toward the bathroom. “If you don’t mind me in your stuff, I can at least get it out and organized.”
Jumping from foot to foot, she made her way into the bathroom, “Thank you!” she yelled as she shut the door. “I really have to pee!”
That made me laugh, but I started pulling her stuff out of her suitcase, folding it into neat piles. As I did, I wondered if Will and Dave were friends. Wouldn’t that be convenient?
First Day of Classes
By the time Emmie was ready, we were just a few minutes from being due at breakfast. She came bursting out of the bathroom (her hair looking très cute and like it had been cut by a pro, I was relieved to see), saw the progress I’d made in putting her clothes away, gave me another quick hug and herded me out the door, claiming she was dying of starvation.
When we got to the dining hall, I fell into the background as she greeted the many girls who hadn’t seen her since last spring. And I could tell that she was genuinely liked by many; I seemed to have hit the roommate jackpot.
Before we knew it though, it was time for morning announcements and then our assembly with the dean.
Even though I knew where the auditorium was, thanks to my tour the evening before, Emmie led me down the hall, chatting as we went.
“The dean’s a dragon, but I guess I’m going to have to chat with her about this rooming situation,” she sighed. “I’m sure my mother left a message on her voicemail before they even left the premises last night.”
I wasn’t surprised; her mother was totally the type. “What are you going to tell the dean?”
Emmie glanced over, a sheepish look making her look adorable under her pixie cut. “The same thing I do every year: that I want to be treated like every other girl here and if she doesn’t like it, I would be just as happy to go to a public school where everyone is treated the same and parents don’t donate buildings.”
“Scandalous!” I said with a gasp and a dramatic palm pressed to my chest. But I appreciated her moxie. Though… “Would your parents ever let you go to a public school?”
She laughed. “Not in a million years. And believe me, I’ve tried. I would rather their money go to something truly good, like building wells in third world countries or AIDS supports in Africa, but they want no part of it. They grew up in the age of Dynasty and love to be ostentatious and disgusting and spend their money on ridiculous things keeping up with the Joneses.”
I didn’t mention the diamonds she’d been wearing the night before could probably go a long way toward funding a third world well-digging project; maybe they were a gift or something.
“Anyway, like I said, the dean is a dragon, but with this she’ll leave off and it’s not a big deal. It’s actually easier for them that I’m not demanding like my parents; I just need to reassure her it’s not a problem where I am.” She looked over at me. “I don’t mean it that way—not that you’re a problem. Oh you know what I mean.”
I did and waved her off with a smile.
“So what do your parents do?” she asked. It was a simple enough question, but one I couldn’t answer honestly. I hated lying to people, but by now it was a regular enough occurrence that I was able to let the lies roll off my tongue.
“They’re both professors. Mom teaches English and my father is a professor of mathematics. They’re both on sabbatical—she’s studying at Oxford, which is why we were in London.” Part of it was true in that Mom was studying at Oxford part-time and used to teach English before she quit her job to follow Dad around on assignment. Without a job, she attended classes and accumulated more degrees, which I guess is as good a way to keep busy as any.
It seemed to satisfy Emmie, anyway, which wasn’t surprising—it was a boring enough story to discourage more questions.
We stepped inside the auditorium then, hit by a wall of voices as the girls awaited the call to order. “Where should we sit?” I asked.
Emmie scanned the crowd and then nodded toward the front. “Down there; Kaylee’s got seats for us.”
We made our way down the aisle and excused ourselves past a bunch of girls, me going first and trying not to bash into anyone. I smiled
and nodded at the girls as I shuffled past, while Emmie greeted the ones she knew.
We finally got to our seats and settled in, Emmie on one side of me, Kaylee on the other. Celia was nowhere to be found, but as the dean walked up the few steps to the stage, Chelly came rushing in and plunked herself down beside Emmie.
“Hi,” She huffed out, breathless.
The dean called everyone to order and the dull roar in the room lowered to a buzz and then just a few whispers as she scanned the crowd pointedly.
Finally, everyone quieted down and she began.
Sure, I was interested in getting good marks, but after three sentences the dean lost me and pretty much everyone else in the hall. You’d think after however many years doing this, she’d clue in. But maybe it was the respectful silence that made her think people were paying attention, when really, as I looked around, it was obvious everyone was just texting.
Including Emmie beside me. I nudged her with my elbow.
She tilted her head so she could give me a look, sticking the tip of her tongue through her lips.
I gave her a disapproving look back.
She angled the screen at me showing me she was texting Dave, as justification for blowing off the dean. Not that the bar was high.
Mss you. Can’t wait to c u. was his last text.
Awwww, I mouthed. How sweet.
Emmie grinned and texted back while I watched over her shoulder: 2nite behind the stables at 8
I looked up at her, eyes wide. I wasn’t sure of all the Rosewood rules yet, but I had a feeling sneaking out of the dorms to meet guys was against at least one or five of them.
Not that Emmie cared, obviously; she rolled her eyes and continued typing with her thumbs.
I turned back to the front of the room, since reading her texts might be a bit creepy, when Kaylee grabbed my arm and squeezed. When I looked at her, she nodded toward the right side of the auditorium at the front. I glanced over, my eyes scanning the faculty, and then finally saw what she was looking at.
Mr. Stratton, the new science teacher.
“Rowr,” Kaylee purred under her breath and waggled her eyebrows. “I have a weakness for smart guys. I can’t wait for science.”
I giggled, but couldn’t help but agree.