Taking The Reins - Book 1 of The Rosewoods (teen romance)

Emmeline

It had been probably the most exhausting day of my life, save the day I moved to London and had jet lag on top of the whole ordeal of moving overseas. But starting a new school, being introduced to a bunch of new girls, unpacking, touring aforementioned new school,  not to mention meeting the guy of your dreams, will wear you out completely.

So when your dorm room door swings open at two a.m., showering you with light from the hallway, you wake up from a dead sleep and have no idea where you are and who might be coming to attack you.

Luckily for the people in the rooms next to yours, you might even be so out of it that you forget to scream.

But after a couple of bleary-eyed blinks and a good yawn to get some oxygen to my brain, I realized the girl who had busted into my room had to be none other than my new roommate, Emmeline Somerville. And judging by the shapes behind her, her parents.

I sat up in bed, pulling the comforter up to my neck, not sure what to even say.

“Uh hi,” was my opener.

The light went on, causing me to squint for a moment.

“Sorry,” Emmeline (?) said in a very curt tone. “We had hoped not to be this late.”

“It was unavoidable,” the woman behind her added.

I nodded, still clutching the covers. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I took in my roommate as she drifted into the room. She looked exactly like what you would expect a trust-fund debutante to look like, although a bit disheveled after what must have been at least an entire day of travel. Her complexion looked just about perfect and her eye makeup looked better after who knows how many hours than mine looked five minutes after applying it. Her blond hair was knotted up in what looked like a very complicated twist, soft wisps framing her face and allowing her diamond earrings to show. She wore a diamond necklace to match and a dress that looked casual, but probably cost hundreds, if not thousands of dollars off the rack. Even more than the rest of the girls at Rosewood, this girl oozed money.

And attitude.

Awesome.

I swallowed and ran my tongue around my teeth before I introduced myself. I should have shaken her parents’ hands, but I wasn’t about to get out of the bed wearing only a t-shirt and underwear. “I’m Brooklyn Prescott.”

The woman stepped over to me and shook my hand, “Mrs. Somerville and this is Emmeline and my husband, Mr. Somerville,” she indicated her husband who was arranging two enormous suitcases inside the door.

“Nice to meet you,” I said, but she’d already turned to her daughter and her father didn’t bother looking my way.

“We paid for a single room for you, Emmeline,” he said as he finished with the luggage and stood up.

Single room? I didn’t even know that was an option.

Emmeline huffed out a breath and looked like she was about to say something, but Mrs. Somerville interrupted. “Why are we major benefactors of this school, if we can’t be assured our daughter has a private room?”

“Mother…”

“I’ll call the dean,” Mrs. Somerville said digging into her purse. I couldn’t believe she was planning to call the dean now.

“Mother. I’m exhausted,” Emmeline snapped.

“Fine, I’ll do it in the morning.”

Emmeline turned to her father. “Thank you for bringing my things up.”

He nodded and leaned over to kiss her cheek. “We’ll get this straightened out in the morning.”