As it was move-in day for everyone on campus, we had to wait our turn for the elevator, which meant more time with Evan and Will, which I was definitely okay with. The way the guys joked with each other, it was obvious they were friends, which made it even more fun to hang around with them. And it sort of took the pressure off me to carry a conversation. A good thing, since being with them was a bit overwhelming.
They did ask about me some, though, surprised to find out I’m American.
“But that accent,” Will said. “It’s so…”
“Dodgy?” I finished for him.
“Charming,” Evan said at the same time.
Will shook his head and stared into my eyes. “Sexy,” he said. I had to look away, unable to handle the intensity in his gaze. If he was flirting with me like Evan had said, I loved it, but it was a little overwhelming at the same time. I’d never been drunk, but maybe this is what it felt like; like my insides were vibrating and I wanted to jump up and down. In private, of course.
Still, I was beginning to really understand what made girls get stupid over attention from guys. Will was definitely making me feel like I could get stupid over him.
Luckily, the elevator arrived at that moment, the ding interrupting the tension between us. The guys picked up the trunk and shuffled into the elevator car, putting it down, so they could turn around. I entered last with my backpack and carry-on spinner, turning around quickly to face the door so I wouldn’t have to look at Will, but as the halves met together, I realized it was mirrored. Will caught my eye and smiled. I looked down at my hand resting on the handle of my luggage, silently willing my heart to stop thudding in my chest, because I was almost sure he and Evan could hear it.
Next thing I knew, there was a soft rustle of clothing and Will was pressing his hand on my shoulder, his scent—part cologne, part laundry, part boy—wafting over me until I had no choice but to breathe in deeper, my nostrils flaring. My head turned toward him and I almost fell into a daze, sure he was going to pull me into his arms. Waiting, hoping.
That’s when I realized what he was actually doing; I’d forgotten to push the button for the third floor and he’d leaned over me to do it.
How utterly humiliating.
“Sorry,” he said as the elevator jerked into motion. “I didn’t think you’d want to be stuck in here all day.”
“Of course not,” I said, my voice cracking as I shook my head and spit out an excuse. “I was worrying about my schedule. Sorry to be daft.”
Finally, after what felt like the longest ride in the history of lifts, we were let out on the third floor. Evan told me to turn left and I preceded them to the very last room on the right. I knocked, but then remembered my key card and slid it into the reader, the light turning green and unlocking the door with a soft ‘shunk’.
With a held breath I pushed open the door, super excited and nervous to meet my new roommate, the famous-adjacent, Celia Thomas. But the room was empty. Of people, at least. It seemed to be a lot more filled and decorated than it should have been for one person. Apparently almost-famous girls have a lot of stuff and like to spread out, I thought.
“So, where do you want this?” Evan asked, grunting as they pivoted to get through the doorway with the trunk.
I moved deeper into the room, put my bags on the unmade mattress and stood to the side so they could get past me. There wasn’t a lot of room for the three of us to maneuver, but I pointed to the one spot on the floor that was big enough to accommodate the trunk and watched as they lowered it into place.
“Very impressive,” I said. “Even though you used the lift.”
Evan gave me an amused look while Will rolled his shoulders.
“Thank you both. Really. I do appreciate your help.”
“Anytime,” Will said, winking at me again and then opening his mouth as though to say something, but was suddenly interrupted by a girl coming into the room, pushing past him to stand in front of me.
She was stunning, with her cafe-au-lait complexion and the kind of curly brown with multi-colored highlights hair that people paid a lot of money for in salons. I had a millisecond to wonder if her striking blue eyes were that color thanks to contacts, before I realized they were trained on me. And not in a good way.
“Uh, hello?” the girl said, her face mashed up into a frown that made me want to hide in the tiny closet. Everyone hears about mean-girl celebutante-zillas, but you hope your roommate at a super-exclusive boarding school isn’t going to be one.
So much for that. Without a word, Evan disappeared and Will gave me a wave before he ducked out too, leaving me alone with the girl who I supposed was Celia. Cowards. Not that I could blame them…
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to smile and stuck out my hand. “Hi, I’m Brooklyn, your new roommate. You can call me Brook, though.” Almost no one called me Brook, but in that second, I was desperate for her to like me and the nickname fell out of my mouth.
“You’re not my roommate,” the girl said, glancing at my outstretched hand and ignoring it. “Kaylee is my roommate.”
I just blinked at her. Tears pooled in the corners of my eyes, though I begged them not to fall—nothing could be worse than bawling in front of my (maybe) new roommate on my first day here.
She exhaled and rolled her eyes. “Stupid registrar’s office. Kaylee enrolled late because her parents were on location in Africa, but Kaylee and I are always roommates. It’s nothing personal.”
“Oh,” I said, still willing myself not to cry. Celia didn’t seem mad at me, but it kind of hurt to be rejected anyway.
“It’s okay. It’s just a mix-up,” Celia said, slipping an arm across my shoulder and giving me a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll get it worked out. Didn’t you notice all her things were already here?”
I looked around the room with new eyes. Duh, Brooklyn. “I guess. I sort of thought maybe you just had a lot of stuff.”
She laughed. “I do have a lot of stuff, but not this much.” She swiveled me toward the door. “Leave your stuff here and let’s go back down and get this sorted out. I’m sorry that you got all the way up here with all your things, but we’ll figure this out.”
I looked at her beside me and smiled; she was being very uncelebutante-zilla-like. “Thanks. Really.”
She shrugged. “Don’t mention it. You’re one of us now. Rosewoods look after each other.”
YOU ARE READING
Taking The Reins - Book 1 of The Rosewoods (teen romance)
Teen FictionBrooklyn Prescott (if that's even her real name) is the new girl at The Rosewood Academy for Academic Excellence, now that she's moved back to the States after two years living in London. Rosewood, a boarding school for children of the rich and famo...