That Boy (bxb)

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                                                                                              DYLAN

Dylan,

Hope you had a good flight. Uncle Wayne and I should be back from Paris tomorrow morning. There's food in the fridge and your bedroom is all set for you to move in. Oakley can show you where everything is. Can't wait to see you.

Love and kisses,

Aunt Crystal

PS: I'm going to get a key made for you, but until I do, you can use the spare key under the mat.

* * *

Annoyance sets in as I stare at the hot pink Post-it stuck to the front door. A simple text message disclosing where the spare key was hidden would have been fine.

And a whole lot safer.

Not that Royal Manor is a dangerous town, far from it.

In fact, the low crime rate and good school district were the main reasons my parents wanted to raise me here.

And if it wasn't for my mom passing away when I was eight and my father snagging himself a new wife who wanted to move to an even ritzier town on the west coast when I turned fourteen...

Nope, not going down that road today. Wondering what my life would have been like if my mom was still alive and wishing things had turned out differently doesn't change the past.

With a heavy sigh, I rearrange my luggage on the porch and fish the key out from under the mat before entering what will be my new home for the next year.

I barely have one foot on the cherry wood floor when my phone rings.

I should do us both a favor and let it go to voicemail, but I swipe the green button anyway.

I'm hurt, angry...and still not ready to talk to him.

But I'm not above being petty.

"You have a collect call from Brian Taylor at Oak Creek Correctional Center. To accept this call, press five. If you don't wish to accept this call, press zero."

I swiftly press zero and hang up.

Fuck you, Dad.

Thanks to another Post-it note from Aunt Crystal, I was able to figure out which guest bedroom she cleared out for me.

Although cleared out is a bit of an understatement. Aside from the queen-sized bed covered with a purple bedspread, an empty bureau, and yet another Post-it note promising to take me shopping later in the week...the room is bare bones.

Not that I mind. I managed to stuff my entire life into one duffle bag and a medium suitcase. No-frills suits me.

Less shit to get attached to.

I open the closet door to hang up some of my clothes, but three dress pants, three crisp, white button-down shirts, and three navy blazers snag my attention instead.

The Royal Hearts Academy emblem above the left breast pockets practically taunts me.

I wasn't in a position to make any requests considering my aunt and her husband were nice enough to take in a stray—but the one thing I insisted on was attending the local public school instead of Royal Hearts Academy. My dad forced me to go to private school for elementary and junior high and it was one of the worst experiences of my life.

The organ in my chest squeezes. With the exception of meeting Jace.

Of course, the one thing I wanted was the one thing Crystal's husband wasn't willing to negotiate on given it's my cousin's—technically, step-cousin's—senior year and he attends RHA.