Tella Ashford's low-profile life takes an unexpected turn when she strikes a deal to fake date Pembroke's golden boy, Finnegan Reed. All she wanted was to get through boarding school with her two best friends and, maybe, catch the eye of Spanish roy...
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Tella's pov:
January 8th, 7:35 am:
"Same old tale," I muttered, stepping out of my dorm room. I loathed coming back to school—it always felt like a luxury prison. Oh sure, the food was decent, and the loos were spotless, but it didn't change the fact I was stuck here. The weekends were the worst—Daddy never bothered to sign the wretched permission slip, so while my friends trotted off to glamorous parties, I stayed behind, waving them off like some downtrodden servant. They'd return slightly wobbly, usually missing an article of clothing or two. Hardly my idea of fun, but at least they were living their best lives. I tried to shove those thoughts to the back of my mind, not that it helped much. Nothing to do but count down the days until the next holiday. I flicked through my phone and pulled up Pembroke's website.
Spring break: March 3rd to 17th.
Just two more months and freedom awaited. "What are you gawking at?" came a voice over my shoulder. "AH! For hell's sake, Zoe!" I jumped about a mile. She burst out laughing. "Checking spring break dates already?" she asked, still grinning. "We've only just dragged ourselves back from Christmas!" "Well, unlike you and Arabella, I don't exactly find this place *charming*," I replied, walking beside her as we made our way down the corridor. "Fair point," she said, nodding sympathetically.
Silence fell as we carried on. For all my complaints, I had to admit the grounds were breathtaking—the architecture was something else, and the gardens weren't half bad either. It's just the people that were the problem. Most of them were posh, pompous types who'd never known a hard day's work in their lives. They'd no doubt coast along, inheriting obscene amounts of money while never lifting a finger. Luckily, I had good taste in friends, and for the next two years, I was stuck with the best of the lot. The rest? Well, they could all sod off for all I cared.
We always took the long route to the main building, partly because I loved passing the greenhouse and Emerald Cove. Technically, it's a lake, but at half five every evening, the sun hit it just right, turning the water into a sparkling green jewel. It's the sort of place couples go to be romantic, but I preferred it for our impromptu picnics—nothing like sneaking snacks out of the kitchen with the girls.
Before long, we were standing outside the main doors, already in time for class. Just as we were about to go in, Ara came barrelling towards us from the left. "Guys! Seriously? Did you just leave me behind?" she panted. "Obviously," Zoe replied, smirking. "You were as slow as Mr Matthews lectures, and we weren't about to get detention on the first day back."
"Ugh! Not my fault my parents stuck me in Mayfield Keep this year. I swear, I need a map to get anywhere!" "Sounds like a 'you' problem," I teased, grinning at her. She shot me a look that could've melted glass. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry!" I said, holding my hands up in surrender.
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My first class of the day was English, which was hardly the most thrilling way to kick things off. The teacher, Mrs. Bastien, had all the energy of a damp sponge, so you can imagine how riveting her lessons were. As I strolled into the classroom—far too busy for this ungodly hour—I made a beeline for a seat at the back, right by the window. If things got unbearable, at least I could stare wistfully at the garden. I dumped my bag down and glanced around at the others, all buzzing with far too much early-morning enthusiasm. How on earth did they manage it? It was making my head throb just watching them.
