The Heir

Chapter 13 - Ryan's POV

I hate science. Truly, there's a part of me that wishes I could go back in time to whoever invented the equations for physics and fucking kill them. This shit just doesn't make sense. And it doesn't help that Hannah never shuts up.

Being assigned her lab partner is not ideal. I tune her out for the most part, nodding along every so often. I'm surprised our teacher hasn't said something about her incessant chatter. Although, from what I've heard, he has a thing for girls that are just shy of being legal. And she is, after all, the youngest in our grade.

"So, what do you think?" Hannah asks.

I look up from my notebook. "About what?"

"God, Ry," she sighs, tucking her pen behind her ear. "Do you ever listen?"

"Do you ever shut up?" I retort.

She rolls her eyes. "Elle turns eighteen next week."

"I'm aware," I say as I go back to jotting down notes.

"We have to do something," she says firmly. "Something special."

"Like what?" I ask, not looking at her. I take notes as fast as I can, trying to keep up with our teacher's speed. What the fuck is Plank's equation?

"You really weren't listening." I can hear the pout in her voice.

"C'mon now, speedster," I nudge her with my elbow. "Just tell me what you're thinking."

"We should have a party, like a big one," she starts on another rant. "Deck out the greenhouse in decorations, music, alcohol obviously, and maybe even some local boys."

"She doesn't usually like shit like that," I remind her. As counterintuitive as it may sound, Elle doesn't like to celebrate her birthday. At least, not like this.

Ever since she came to Montrose, it's always been just the two of us. Her first birthday here was spent riding horses. The next, we stayed up all night beside the lake just watching the stars. For her fifteenth birthday, we spent the whole day wandering around town eating everything we could think of. By the time she turned 16, things began to change. We spent that one bar hopping with our fake ID's. Last year was a repeat, only I had to carry her all the way back to campus.

"It'll be a surprise party," Hannah declares.

I glance at her briefly, "she's going to hate that."

"Shut up," Hannah smacks my arm. "You don't know everything about her."

I quirk a brow, "neither do you."

"She's my roommate," Hannah points out.

"She's my best friend," I shoot back.

"If you don't want to help, that's fine," she says, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "But you don't get to take credit for the idea."

"I do not want any sort of credit on this one," I assure her.

Elle's a very high strung person. She holds it together for the most part but think about it. How the hell would she be able to balance impressively advanced classes, painfully strict ballet training, the ability to lie on the spot and somehow still maintain her perfect image? She's on edge; all the time.

And Jesus fuck, our friends have no idea the family she comes from. That we come from. If she gets startled enough, thrown off her game, she's going to react. And it's going to go very poorly for whoever is closest to her.

She doesn't like surprises. Maybe I should warn her.

"You better not spoil the surprise," Hannah says, like she can read my mind.