from my fifth-grade studies popped into my head.
“Congress Academy,” I heard myself saying, pulling the knowledge of the site of the first Continental Congress out of thin air.
Kristin wrinkled her nose, and the small diamond chip she had pierced on her left nostril sparkled. “I don’t know it.”
“Oh, it’s really small. And exclusive,” I added.
“Where is it?” she pressed.
“Downtown,” I lied, hoping downtown was a good thing. For Keansburg’s proximity to Philadelphia, I hadn’t been since a school field trip in eighth grade.
“Downtown? I’ve never heard of any Congress Academy downtown. I’ll have to ask my brother if he knows it,” she continued. “If it’s any good.” She resumed looking at me with a satisfied look on her face. She might as well have said, “So there!”
“Hey, Kristin, why do you care?”
The smooth voice came from the row in front of us, from the black-haired guy who laughed at my dig earlier.
Throwing his left arm cavalierly over the back of his chair—so his arm was resting slightly on my desk—he turned around and faced Kristin, who turned beet-red and stammered, “I don’t care. I was only—”
“You were only being a nasty little girl, as usual,” he said, coolly. “Anyway, I know the school. We’ve played them.”
He turned and looked at me for a brief second—and my pulse sped. I didn’t expect my response. I’d been around good-looking guys before—but this guy looked like a rock star. Long black lashes framed his green eyes—twinkling green eyes that locked with mine.
“In fact,” he added with a smirk. “At Congress Academy, they’re very good.”
I smiled back. Is he flirting with me?
His gaze dropped lower. For a split second I thought he was being Blondo 2.0 and staring at something else—okay, two something elses—on my chest, when I realized he was looking at my charm necklace. His eyes returned to mine and crinkled up at the corner with his smile. Then the boy with the rock-star eyes quickly turned around, returning to the exact same pose he was in before, which I now noticed was slouched in his chair, legs sprawled out, not caring in the least who might trip over them.
Chapter 2
Class was over, and it was time to go to lunch. I wasn’t sure if my confrontation with Kristin would mean that I had lost my potential lunch partner in Jenn, or if I’d actually be lunch, with Kristin picking at my bones and my flesh.
Relief isn’t the word for it when Francisco immediately said, “Hey, new girl, sit with us at lunch.” He ignored the glare from Kristin and gave me a big smile.
Looking right at her, I replied, “Sure, thanks.”
Three hours in, and there was no chance I would get to be invisible in this school. Anonymity I wanted, but it was clearly not an option, since I wouldn’t be a doormat. I didn’t take Henry’s crap, why would I take it from some Upper East Side princess?
We strolled slowly to the cafeteria, Kristin racing down the stairs quickly with Jenn for what I could see was about to become a fully blown-out bitch session about me. Francisco hung back, peppering me with benign questions until Kristin and Jenn were far enough ahead. Then he threw in, “Don’t let Kristin get to you.”
“What’s her deal?” I asked, exasperated. “I didn’t do anything.”
“There doesn’t always have to be a reason,” he stated plainly. “She was in these commercials for super-absorbent diapers when she was a toddler, so she thinks she’s better than everyone. I still think she’s just as full of crap as she was then. Some people are just rotten.”
I burst out laughing, surprised by Francisco’s candor.
“She has quite a history with Anthony—one of those on-and-off things—so I’m sure she’s not thrilled that he was all over you in the doorway of the classroom,” Francisco continued, giving me a sideways glance. “Way to make a splash on your first day, newbie.”
“Was that his name? He seemed annoyed that I didn’t know who he was,” I said, then groaned internally. Great, that’s probably Francisco’s best friend or something.
To my relief, he just started laughing. “Yeah, I bet. His royal high-ass isn’t used to that. So I take it you shot him down?”
“More or less,” I mumbled, and he snorted with laughter. I breathed a sigh of relief—finally, someone that seemed normal.
“So, Francisco, who’s the other guy, the guy who stood up to Kristin?” I had to find out a little more about the green-eyed mystery guy—who clearly knew I was lying about my hometown.
“Oh, just call me Cisco,” he said, and I dropped the question, since we had arrived at the cafeteria, right behind Jenn and Kristin. I heard Kristin hiss, “So what, does he, like, know her already? I bet she transferred to stalk him or something.”
Francisco just rolled his eyes and in a hushed tone, said, “She’s a drama queen. Literally, too—she’s the drama queen, so hope you’re not planning on trying out for the school play,” he added wryly.
“Who needs the school play? It looks like there’s no way to avoid the drama at this place,” I whispered back, and Cisco laughed as I followed him into the small cafeteria that was miles away from the industrial-style one I was used to in Keansburg. Instead of the scratched Formica I once knew, the tables were long, dark wood, looking like they’d be at home in any upscale dining room. Which, I realized, this was, since the school was in an old mansion and all. I suddenly was not very hungry. I grabbed a small prewrapped sandwich—no idea what kind—and an iced tea, and filed behind Cisco in line. I settled in at the table next to him, and gave a smile to Jenn, who was sitting across from me. To my relief, she smiled back.
“So, Emma, do you like Vince A so far?” The question came from a short, sandy-haired guy to my right—Austin, I think his name was. He was slightly freckled and smiling, and seemed nice enough.
“Yeah, it’s cool. I mean, school’s school. Right?”
“Well, do you think you’ll be joining any of the clubs? We’re looking for volunteers for Halloween Movie Night in a few weeks,” he asked pointedly, playing with his tie which, I noticed, was dotted with a small pattern of the school’s insignia.
“No, I don’t think so,” I said, smiling apologetically. “The only thing I really like to do is…run.” Thanks to my aunt’s location, I was close to Central Park, and could just get in there and run…and run. All my thoughts melted away, and I just focused on the pavement as it kissed my feet.
Austin seized on the opportunity. “We don’t really have a track team. It’s more like a club, but you should join anyway. The athletics at this school aren’t one of the biggest priorities—that would be academics, of course—” He would have continued prattling on if something from across the cafeteria hadn’t caught our attention—and the attention of everyone else in the room.
Amid
