Chapter 12 #2
“But just between us, is he hard to work for? I’m only asking because I’m trying to figure him out. When he’s nice to me, I can’t decide if he’s being real or just acting.”
“I wouldn’t know. He’s my employer. I go there, do my job, and leave.”
“How long have you worked for him?”
“A couple years.”
“That’s long enough to know what he’s like. I think what I saw today was the real Brock. Yelling at you for taking the money? I still can’t believe he did that.”
“Anyone else I’d work for around here would do the same thing. They don’t trust the help. They think we steal because we don’t have money when the truth is, stealing would put us out of work so we’d have even less money.”
“That sucks. I hate being accused of stuff I didn’t do.”
She turns up a steep road that winds past tall pine trees. “So tell me about this boy.”
I smile. “He’s great. Really sweet, but also has an edgy side. He has a nose ring and a pierced lip and he’s saving up for his first tattoo.”
She glances at me. “The boy you were with this morning?”
“No. Axl. My boyfriend.”
She nods. “You’ve dated for a while?”
“Two years. We’re moving in together when I go back to New York. Hey, you think Brock would let me keep whatever money I don’t spend? Because I was thinking I could use that money to get an apartment. We can’t live with Axl’s mom. Her place is too small.”
“Rumor, I don’t mean to overstep here but don’t you think you’re a little young to be settling down? You’re still in high school.”
“I’m not moving in with him until next summer, after we graduate.”
“I know, but still. You might want to date other boys before deciding Axl is the one.”
“I don’t need to date other guys. I know he’s the one.”
“Have you dated anyone else?”
“No, but I wouldn’t want to.”
“Are you sure about that?” she says, slowing down as we approach a stoplight.
“Yeah. Why do you ask?”
“That young man you were with this morning had you smiling more than I’ve seen you smile since you got here.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I saw you get out of his car.” She smiles at me. “You had that look.”
“What look?”
“The look you get when you meet someone who makes you feel something you maybe haven’t felt before?” She’s still smiling as she continues down the winding road.
“I think you misread whatever you saw. I spent a few hours with the guy, but nothing happened. We just had breakfast and talked. Jackson is just a friend.”
“Jackson?” she says in a concerned tone. “Jackson Novak?”
“Um, I don’t know. He never told me his last name.”
“The boy who lives down the street?”
“Yeah, a few houses down. He lives by himself. It’s weird. He said his parents took off and he’s on his own.”
She shakes her head. “Stay away from him.”
“What? Why?”
“You don’t need that kind of trouble.”
“What trouble?”
We’re in a parking lot now, and she pulls into a space and shuts the engine off.
She turns to me. “He’s a good-looking young man and I’m sure he’s very charming but you need to stay away from him. Especially now.”
“Why now?”
She turns and points straight ahead. “Because this is your home now. And he’s not welcome here.”
I look to where she’s pointing and see a dark gray building surrounded by trees.
The facade is all brick, and on each side of the entrance doors are two large pillars, like the kind you see on castles with a princess hidden at the top.
Tall, thin windows framed in intricately cut stone run up the length of the entrance, and beautiful stone carvings outline the massive dark wood doors.
“Wow,” I mutter, my eyes taking it in.
“Such a beautiful building,” Maria says. “Tourists come here just to see it. It was modeled after a castle in England. I can never remember which one but I’m sure it’ll be covered in your orientation.”
I get out of the van, still gazing at the building. It’s not at all what I imagined. I thought it’d look like any other high school. Plain. Boring. Institutional. This is nothing like that. I feel like I’ve entered a different world. It even feels different. Like I don’t belong.
“Rumor?” I hear Maria say.
“Yeah, I’m coming.” I meet up with her on the sidewalk.
As we get closer to the school, I see the part of it that was hidden by the trees. It extends to the left and right of the grandiose entrance, with the same intricate detailing on the tall, thin windows that run along each side of the building. Along the roof are smaller peaks with tiny windows.
“What are those?” I ask, pointing to them.
“You mean the dormers?” Maria asks.
“They look like little houses.”
She smiles. “Let’s go inside.”
We try to open the doors, but they’re locked.
Maria frowns. “That’s a shame. I was hoping I could show you around.”
“That’s okay. It’s probably just a bunch of classrooms.”
“It is, but the common areas are beautiful. The staircase railing was hand carved.”
“I’ll see it next week. Where’s the bookstore?”
“Around back.” She leads the way, following the sidewalk that goes around the building. I look down at the neatly manicured grass, then up at the large trees.
“This place looks more like a college than a high school,” I say.
“I think that was the intention. They want their students to treat this like a second home. You’ll soon find out that going here is your life. You won’t have much time for anything else.”
“I don’t want school to be my life.”
“That’s not really a choice at Twisted Pine.”
What is she trying to tell me? That my life will be hell going here? Does she mean because of the classes or the people? How does she know this? Is it like Jackson said, and the whole town knows about Twisted Pine?
I’m starting to get nervous. The building itself is intimidating, but now I’m worried about what’s inside it.
The students. The classes. The teachers.
What if I hate it here? What if I don’t fit in?
I’ve never had a problem fitting in before, but just walking around this place, I feel like I shouldn’t be here.
“Welcome,” I hear someone say. I look up and see a man in a suit walking toward us.
Maria smiles at him. “Principal Edwards.”
He stops, his head cocked, brows drawn together. “Do I know you?”
She laughs. “No, but I’ve seen you around when I’ve come here to drop off things for the boys. Trystan and Braden?”
He nods. “The Halliway boys. Two of my favorite students.”
“This is Rumor,” she says, putting her arm around me. “She’ll be starting here next Tuesday.”
“Yes, I’ve heard about you.” He smiles and shakes my hand. “Welcome.”
“What have you heard?” I ask with concern.
“Nothing to be worried about,” he says with a laugh. “Brock came in last week and enrolled you. We spoke just briefly.” He frowns. “I’m sorry about your loss.”
I nod and look down at the perfectly trimmed grass.
“We were just heading to the bookstore,” Maria says. “We’ll let you get back to your work.”
“Have you decided what activities you’ll be participating in?” the principal asks.
Looking up, I see him staring at me with his dark eyes.
His hair is dark too but streaked with light gray.
I’m guessing he’s in his thirties, which seems young for a principal.
He’s wearing a suit but looks like he’s in good shape.
His face reminds me of Brock with that sharp jawline and those bright white teeth.
“I’m not really into activities,” I say. “I was thinking of getting a job.”
“A job?” he says with a smile, like he thinks I’m joking.
“Just part-time. Maybe at a restaurant or a grocery store.”
“Miss Halliway,” he says in a condescending tone, “we don’t allow our students to work.
Attending Twisted Pine is a full-time job.
In addition to your classes and homework, we expect you to support the school by attending sporting events and fundraisers and participating in activities that give you the social interaction necessary for success here. ”
“I don’t need activities to make friends,” I say in a curt tone, annoyed the guy doesn’t even know my last name. “And I don’t believe a social life should be required for success.”
I’m really getting angry. School hasn’t even started, and he’s already telling me what to do. Expecting me to spend all my time here. Acting like my only friends can be people who go here. He’s making this place sound like some kind of cult.
“May I have a word with her alone, please?” the principal says to Maria.
“Of course,” she says, hurrying off toward a circular garden with a fountain in the middle and benches around it.
When she’s far enough away, Principal Edwards folds his arms over his chest and looks down at me.
“You should know that your acceptance here was made possible only because of your uncle. We normally wouldn’t accept a student raised in the public school system and we definitely wouldn’t take a child whose father has spent the majority of his life in rehabilitation facilities. ”
“Are you kidding me?” I scoff. “I bet half the kids here have had at least one parent go to rehab.”
“Let me finish,” he scolds. “Here at Twisted Pine, we reward success. We strive for it. Admire it. This is true of both our students as well as their parents. Certainly there have been members of the Twisted Pine family who have struggled with substance abuse, but they have done so while maintaining their success, or in some cases, achieving even more. Your father, on the other hand, has done nothing to prove to us he’ll turn his life around.
He has a history of failure, which I think even you would have to agree is true. ”
“It’s not easy to beat an addiction,” I say, although I’m not sure why I’m sticking up for my dad. I agree he’s a failure, but more as a father than anything else. I never cared what he did for a living. I just wanted him to be a dad, but he failed. He didn’t even try.
“You’re here because of Brock,” Principal Edwards says.
“And because of his sons, Trystan and Braden. Those boys have devoted themselves to this school. They’re both popular with their fellow students and are star athletes.
With Braden on our football team, we might even qualify for the state tournament this year. ”
“Great,” I say with a sarcastic smile.
He narrows his eyes at me. “Listen to me, Miss Halliway. I will not put up with disrespectful behavior. Nor will I allow my school to be tainted by someone who doesn’t value it the way others here do.
It is a privilege to attend Twisted Pine Academy.
If you feel otherwise, your life here will be very difficult. ”
“Is that a threat?” I ask, staring back at him.
“Consider it a helpful tip.” His lips rise just slightly. “Follow the rules, you’ll succeed.”
“And if don’t follow them?”
His eyes lock on mine. “You won’t survive.”
What does he mean? I won’t survive what? Going to school here? As in I’ll end up at public school?
Or did he mean something else? Something much darker? Like I won’t survive . . . at all.
“Have I made myself clear?” he asks.
“Very,” I say, keeping my eyes on his. “And my name isn’t Ms. Halliway. It’s Bennet. I use my mother’s name.”
“You’ll fare much better using the Halliway name. Despite the failures of your father, at least he carries a proper name. I suggest you use it. It’s likely the only thing of value you’ll ever get from him.”
“I’m not changing my name,” I say, glaring at Principal Edwards.
“Think it over. Perhaps you’ll come to your senses once you give it some thought.” He smiles. “See you next Tuesday.”
Give up my mother’s name? Is he crazy? It’s all I have left of her.
As he walks away, I hear his words in my head again.
You won’t survive.
Like hell I won’t.