Boarding with the Bad Boy [COMPLETE + BONUS published edition]

Poor Thing

Although the jeers and the whisperings continue, the first three weeks of school continue without major incident. And while I promised myself I wouldn't be attending any Ryder-sanctioned events based on my current social status, I find myself in Jill's kitchen on the Friday afternoon of the school's Welcome Party.

Jill gives me a harsh look. "You have to come. Tell her, Dad." Mr. Ross is crossing by en route to his office. He glances at us over his glasses.

"Tell her what?"

"Logan doesn't want to go to the Welcome Party. But she has to."

Mr. Ross sighs. "I think that's up to Logan," he says, and I have a sudden pang of sadness. Mr. Ross is disappointed with me, and he's been nothing but good to me since my dad died—before, even. I need to step up and prove to him that he hasn't made a mistake by getting me into Ryder.

"I'll go," I say to both of them. Mr. Ross doesn't acknowledge the change, continuing through the room into his den, but Jill squeals and jumps off her stool.

"I knew you'd come around! Let's go pick outfits."

I suck the last of my string cheese into my mouth and slide off my own stool, following Jill upstairs. I don't own a lot of party-worthy clothing, but Jill's closet is bursting with cute and girly clothes. I may be disliked by the majority of my grade, but I'd be lying to myself if I said I didn't want to look good. The Ryder Academy uniform of skirts and khakis is already getting old; I'm ready to look and feel like myself.

Upstairs, Jill tosses clothes across the room.

"Okay, we can start with you. Sit," she instructs, pointing at her bed.

There's no use fighting Jill when she's in this kind of mood, so I lie back against her pillows, watching as she pulls bright colored clothing from hidden regions of her closet.

"No pink and no rhinestones," I say as she considers a top sporting both. She shoots me a look.

"That's a mistake."

I don't think so. My heart does a little toss as I think about Sam approaching me in our room that first Saturday, teasing me with his tongue ring. I close my eyes. I want to look like the kind of girl that he would be into, even though he hasn't made anything close to an apology since that first Monday. This makes my stomach hurt a little. What a disgrace I am to my gender.

"Who has Sam dated at Ryder?" I ask Jill, bracing myself for her questions. She surprises me by being cool about it, only glancing up at me before returning to her search. By now a small pile of clothes has built up at her feet. She scoops them up and carries them to the bed.

"I don't think he's ever dated anyone at Ryder," she says. "Though rumor has it he's done his fair share of sleeping around. Try these."

I can't help the way my nose wrinkles at her admission. I don't love the thought of him sleeping around. I dig into the pile for a pair of white, distressed skinny jeans.

"Like who?" I ask. I'm being obvious, but who cares? Jill will find out my little crush soon enough, if she hasn't caught on already.

"Hm," Jill considers this. "Jordan Childs and Maisie Stanton both claimed they hooked up with him at parties last year."

"Claimed?" I've zipped myself into Jill's jeans and am digging for a top that I like in her pile. When I don't find one, I make my way to her closet, doing my own investigation. I turn back to her holding a navy halter-top with slits cut from the hip to the rib.

"Ooh, nice," Jill says to my pick. I toss my own shirt on her bed and pull the new one over my head. I like it. But Jill still hasn't answered my question.

"Why do you say claimed?" I ask again.

Jill shrugs. "You just never really know here. People make up all sorts of shit. You've seen it with the whole Headmaster Carr thing; it gets crazy."

"So that sort of crap is normal? It seems pretty extreme."

"Trust me, illicit sex is just the start."

"I can't believe you convinced me to come to this place," I tease, watching as she changes into her own party outfit, a black dress that hugs her curves perfectly.

"I know," Jill laments, turning from the mirror to where I stand by her desk. "You poor thing, living with one of the hottest guys you've ever seen in your life—don't deny it."

I snort. "Yeah, and fighting dickhead rumors about my sleeping with the headmaster and sparring with Brandon Trent...still. It's more or less a dream come true."

Jill gives me a sad smile. "There is that." She pauses before asking, "Do you want to talk about it?"

I sigh, rolling my eyes. "Not tonight," I tell her.

She doesn't skip a beat. "Come here," she says, changing the subject. "I'm going to do your hair."