Business magnate's daughter, Isla Templeton (Feather), is the youngest of André Templeton's three children. And the top topic in the upper-class gossip in New York City.
Isla has always been a fighter; after losing her mother at a young age by sui...
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The ride to Eaton Academy was full of noise—Philip was in front, and Julia and Luke were all crammed into the backseat with me, laughing and sharing stories from the summer. Our driver, Xavier, didn't seem to mind the chaos. He was used to our lively group.
As the car pulled up to the school, I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The familiar brick facade of Eaton loomed ahead, but it wasn't the school that made me nervous. It was him.
We climbed out of the car, still caught up in our conversation, and made our way inside. The morning passed quickly, with teachers handing out syllabi and classmates catching up on their summers. I kept my head down, trying to ignore the knot in my stomach, knowing that, eventually, I would have to face him.
Eaton High wasn't a big school. Each class had about 20 students, and unlike regular schools, we stayed in one classroom most of the time while the teachers switched between periods. This year's classroom was the one closest to the chemistry lab. Sadly, it wasn't close to the photography room, but a little walk wouldn't hurt, and I'd be sharing my daily steps with Luke since Julia will be super busy being the captain of the track team.
Me: Luke, where are you? Photography class is next, and you don't want to miss the first one!
I waited at least 10 minutes before running to the back of the campus where the art building was.
"Ugh, Luke," I muttered, clenching my fists as I looked around for him. Nothing.
"You must be Isla Templeton," a deep voice said from the lockers. Turning around in slow motion, I saw a tall blonde teenager in our school uniform, probably an exchange student.
"And you are..." I asked, crossing my arms as I walked towards him.
"Thomas. Thomas Clarkson."
Wow, he was stunning. The darkest brown eyes I'd ever seen, almost black. His light blonde hair was nearly white. He had a toned body, clearly caring about his physique. He wore a dark vintage ring with the letter T on his little finger as if it wasn't his own.
"Hi, Thomas. Welcome to Eaton," I smiled, unable to take my eyes off the ring. It looked so familiar, but it couldn't be.
"It's my stepmother's," he said, lowering his gaze to his hand and twisting the ring around his finger. "I stole it from her time ago, but she allowed me to keep it."
Luke barged through the hallway doors, running towards us. "Oh my god, Isla. I couldn't find you anywhere."
"Tell me about it," rolling my eyes and grabbing his arm. "This is—"
"Thomas, yes, I know," Luke interrupted. "He was introduced to the class this morning, Isla. Jeez, girl, your daydreaming is going to kill you someday."
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I just got lost in my head and seemed to forget everything that happened the first hour," I babbled, waving my hands. Thomas laughed. "Hey, don't worry; we have the whole year to get to know each other."
