CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Kaia
My bookshelf held gaps where my favorite books had been, and two suitcases waited by the door to be hauled into my father’s trunk. A soft knock broke the stillness. “Come in,” I whispered.
Asher peeked inside, already in his riding gear, a red-wrapped package in hand.
“Ready?” he asked, stepping into the room.
I shook my head, and he pulled me into his arms with a sigh. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll visit as soon as I can.”
I pressed my face into his shoulder. Yesterday, I’d been determined to start over. Today, my courage had vanished. Excitement curdled into dread. I wanted to stay—stay in my room, even if it meant fighting with my father every day.
And there was Asher. On bad days, he was always there, ready to talk, ready to hold me. I’d been close enough to be what he needed, too. Now I wouldn’t be.
If I wanted to come home, I’d rely on my father for a ride. Would he even bother? He could claim he was busy, and I’d be stuck until he decided it looked bad not to see his daughter.
“This is for you.” Asher handed me the package. The weight and faint smell of ink coaxed a smile through my tears. “More books? Thank you.”
“In case you get bored.” He kissed my forehead, his lips lingering. “It’s going to be okay. Please, don’t be sad.”
I sank deeper into his hug, clinging to his warmth like it might carry me through the six-hour drive to a place I knew only from a glossy brochure.
“I’ll try,” I said, fighting the tears threatening to spill. He had a long ride and a race ahead—he couldn’t get on the bike worried about me. I mustered a smile for his sake, but he only tightened his hold, as if he saw straight through the cracks.
Sadness shadowed his eyes, too. I cupped his cheek, brushing my thumb along his jaw. “I love you. Please be careful.”
His exhale trembled against my wrist. “I wish I could take you myself.” He kissed my palm. “At least then I’d know that place was okay. I don’t trust your father.”
“That school costs too much to be shitty.” I tried for humor. “He needs to brag about his generosity. Expect luxury and the best education his money can buy.”
“I fucking hope so, peque.” Asher kissed me, and once again I wished I could stay. The front door opened and closed downstairs. Time was up.
Reluctantly, I stepped back. Asher blinked hard, looking away, and pain pierced my chest.
“I’ll take your stuff downstairs, peque,” he said.
Clutching the books to my chest, I whispered, “Thank you, Ash. For everything.”
***
Green fields blurred past the SUV’s windows. I pressed my nose to the glass, watching the unfamiliar scenery through the mist stinging my eyes. Sharon giggled at something my father said, and nausea churned in my stomach—even though I’d never been prone to motion sickness.
I was just sick of them. Unfortunately, there was no pill for that.
“Did you know they have a swimming pool, Kaia?” Sharon chirped as we passed a stone sign: Oakwood Springs Founded: 1890. “A gym, too.”
My father changed lanes, resting his hand on her knee. “No time for that. She’ll be too busy studying not to embarrass herself once classes start in August.”
“You mean not to embarrass you,” I muttered, pressing my forehead to the cool glass. My skin burned—whether from rage, sadness, or missing Asher, I couldn’t tell.
My father sighed like I’d already drained his daily allotment of patience. He flicked on the radio, and a pop song burst from the speakers, a flimsy illusion of cheer.
Twenty minutes later, the car slowed before gray wrought-iron gates so tall climbing over them would’ve been impossible. Not that I planned to try.
An iron plaque on the stone pillar read Willowbrook School for Girls. Below it, on the crest, an eagle perched on a bare branch.
How girly for an all-girls school. Not weird at all. At least there weren’t armored sentinels with swords—though with the dense woods pressing in, who knew what lurked there.
I shivered and shoved my hands deeper into the pockets of my black hoodie just as Dad got out and strode to the panel blinking red. He pressed a button, said something, and the light flicked green. The gates crawled open.
“Nervous?” Sharon asked.
I shrugged. “Should I be?”
“It’s for the best, Kaia,” she said, like she meant something other than shipping me off to this place. “You’ll thank your dad later.”
Right. It was always about him—even when I was the one leaving everything behind.
Dad slid back into the driver’s seat. Gravel crunched under the SUV’s tires as we rolled up the wide driveway.
Ahead stood a three-story stone building, gray and ivy-covered, its arched windows staring down at us. Two smaller wings flanked it, nearly identical. One housed the dorms, if I remembered the glossy brochure right.
“It looks amazing!” Sharon gasped.
She could stay here if she wanted. I wasn’t so easily impressed, and her fake enthusiasm wouldn’t convince me otherwise.
My father chuckled. “Kaia probably disagrees, as always, just to be contrary.”
I shrank against my seat belt, hating being talked about like I wasn’t right here.
He parked at the Main Hall’s entrance. I unbuckled and climbed out before he told me I could.
Wind cooled my flushed face, carrying the scent of flowers. A few girls in green-and-black checkered skirts and crisp white polos passed by, their curious glances making me hyperaware of my hoodie and jeans. I must’ve looked like a bruise against all that polish, but I had pretty clothes too.
Like the pink dress I’d worn to Asher’s race.
Back then, the future had seemed bright—before the disastrous test, before Asher’s fight.
Now I was here, and he was hours away, racing.
I pushed down the ache of worry and tuned in to Dad, who stood on the steps talking to a tall, short-haired woman in a beige pantsuit.
“Kaia, this is Principal Hollings,” he said. “My daughter, Kaia.” He hesitated, flicking a glance at me. “I already told her about your…struggles.”
Struggles. I cringed. Our relationship was the biggest one, but I doubted he mentioned that.
I extended my hand. Principal Hollings shook it firmly, her eyes scanning me as if Dad’s words had primed her to spot rebellion written on my face.
“Welcome to Willowbrook,” she said. “We’re happy to have you join our family. Mister Demeri—” She turned to Dad. “Would you like to handle the paperwork before or after we show Kaia the dorms? Or maybe her mother could go with her.”
Sharon wasn’t my mother. My mom wouldn’t have sent me away. I wanted to correct Principal Hollings but bit my tongue. Sharon wasn’t a stranger in my father’s house.
I was.
Dad nodded curtly. “Go to the dorm with Sharon, then. I’ll join you in a few.”
He followed the principal inside, and I exhaled, rubbing my palms over my face. Sharon opened her mouth like she might say something, then closed it again. Better that way. She and Dad had a talent for choosing the wrong words.
I trailed after her to the dorms. As we stepped inside, a curly-haired woman in a navy sheath dress turned toward us.
She looked young, early thirties maybe, with warm eyes behind horn-rimmed glasses that crinkled when she smiled—friendly, genuine. “Kaia and Sharon, right? I’ve been expecting you. My name’s Sarah. I’m a residential advisor. Kaia, let me show you your room.”
Her heels clicked on the polished floor as she led us down a wide hallway. Sunlight spilled through arched windows to our left, catching motes of dust in the air. Girls’ laughter floated from behind identical white doors. Sarah stopped at number thirteen and knocked, her smile widening.
A groan came from the other side. “One second.” Sarah lifted her shoulders in an apologetic shrug, curls bouncing. “That’s Alba, one of your roommates.”
One of them? I was about to ask how many girls I’d be crammed in with when the door swung open. A girl my height stood there, vivid green eyes sharp under glossy brown hair grazing her chin.
“Welcome,” she mumbled, stepping aside before nodding at the neatly made bed by the right wall. “That one’s yours. See you later.”
Just like that, she slipped past us, slippers slapping against the polished wood in the hall.
Once again, I felt like an intruder. If even my new roommate couldn’t be bothered to talk, making friends here wouldn’t be easy. I crossed the room and sat on the bed, smoothing a hand over the beige throw.
“The room looks great, doesn’t it?” Sharon gushed, her voice too bright. She was probably thrilled to have me out of the way so she and Dad could live their love story uninterrupted. “So much natural light, and you’ve got an amazing view.”
And bars on the window. Someone must’ve already tried to escape. The thought sank like a stone, smothering the small spark of hope I’d had about making friends here.
Sarah cleared her throat. “Well, I hope you like your room, Kaia. Alba’s a bit rough around the edges, but I’m sure you’ll get along with Teagan.”
Laughter rang in the hallway before a blonde girl swept inside like she owned the place. “Sarah.” She beamed. “Is this—oh my God. You’re Kaia, right? The new girl?” Her honey-colored eyes landed on me. I rose to my feet slowly—it felt wrong to sit while she looked so eager.
“I’m Teagan.” She threw her arms around me, hugging tight and swaying us side to side. “I’ve been looking forward to this for days. How are you? I love your hair.” She lifted a strand and inspected it, smile plastered in place.
I wanted friends here, but who was this candid with a stranger? What if my hair was the only good thing about me?
“Leave the new girl alone,” Alba said, marching back into the room past Sarah and Sharon.
Teagan scoffed. “It wouldn’t kill you to be friendly.”
Alba shrugged. “Why risk my life trying?”
A smile tugged at my lips before Alba’s sharp look cut it off. No smiling at her. Got it.
What a day. I couldn’t wait to tell Asher about this place. Discreetly, I patted my pocket and pulled out my phone. A new message glowed on the screen.
Ash: Te echo de menos. Text me once you’ve settled at the dorm.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard when heavy footsteps thudded in the hall. A second later, Dad rolled my suitcases inside.
“Is this your dad?” Teagan asked.
I nodded, gripping my phone tighter.
“Kaia,” my father boomed, ignoring her completely. “I handled the paperwork. Here are your things.” He dropped the suitcases by the bed. I’d been so absorbed in Asher’s text, I’d almost forgotten Dad, Sharon and Sarah stood there watching me.
“Thanks,” I whispered.
“Well.” Sarah clasped her hands. “Only one thing left. Kaia, give me your phone.”
I pressed it to the mattress, covering it with my palm. “Excuse me?”
Her smile held, but the warmth behind it cooled. “I suppose nobody told you. We have a strict no-cell policy here. I’ll keep it safe. You’re welcome to use the landline in my office to call your parents.”
A joke, surely—but no one laughed. Not Sarah. Not Teagan. Not even Alba, who eyed me with that strange mix of interest and contempt.
“We studied so much better without distractions back in my day,” Sharon chimed in. “Kaia will learn to appreciate it.”
A lump rose in my throat. This wasn’t about distractions. It was about freedom. Safety. The chance to call someone if things went wrong. What if Sarah wasn’t in her office? What if I needed help? This was bullshit.
Sarah stepped closer, hand extended. Everyone stared, leaving me no choice.
Slowly, I lifted my phone and placed it in her palm. It buzzed the moment she closed her fingers around it.
A new text from Asher lit the screen, and I bit down on my lip to keep from crying as Sarah slid the phone into her pocket.
“Well, you’re all set now.” She grinned at my father. “Welcome to Willowbrook, Kaia.”