4. Ivy
Chapter 4
Ivy
After a hectic morning of getting my music courses sorted out, I’m finally at the English and Arts Building.
I called ahead to find out if I could still sign up for the English literature course and they agreed.
I head over to the registration desk and the assistant hands me the registration clipboard.
My name is already there, so I sign next to it, relief filling me.
I’m doing this course as a minor. Since I missed out on yesterday’s events, I worried I wouldn’t be able to join, but hope was on my side.
For the first time since arriving at Raventhorn I feel like I can relax.
I may even be able to forget my encounter last night with Thorne Ivanov.
I’ve been crazy busy so I haven’t had time to think about him. But every so often, like now , he creeps into my thoughts.
I hand the clipboard back to the course assistant and she smiles at me from beneath her thick-framed glasses.
“This is yours.” She gives me a folder with the course materials.
“Thank you.”
“Professor Bates is doing an intro workshop tomorrow. Would you like me to sign you up? He has an interesting way of teaching so he likes to give his students a heads-up.”
“That sounds like I should be there.”
“If I were you I’d definitely go.” She gives me an exaggerated nod.
“Then sign me up.” I grin back at her, already liking Professor Bates. In high school, my senior year English teacher also taught us drama. She liked to have us act out our novels so every English class felt like we were on stage.
“Do you have any questions I can help with?”
“Not yet, but I’m sure I will. I’m one of those people who will have a million and one things to ask when the course gets going.”
“All my details are in the back of the folder. Just send me an email when those questions come up.”
“Thank you, I will.” I give her a grateful smile before ambling away from the desk.
I head over to the shelves by the entrance and grab the map from the side pocket of my bag. I need directions to the coffee shop. With the day I still have ahead of me, I’m going to need the strongest coffee they can make.
I’m glad I got my courses sorted out, but no way am I out of the woods yet.
My lateness yesterday did not go unnoticed by the Theta Alpha leadership.
The first thing to greet me early this morning before I left my room was an envelope slid under my door. Inside the envelope was a letter from the president, Tiffany Vasilyev, expressing her displeasure that I missed the first day.
She didn’t care why I was late, or about the trouble I had getting to campus. She just went in on me for my insolence.
The letter ended with informing me that I would be dealt with at the meeting after lunch—which is in two hours.
This is the kind of stupid shit I wasn’t looking forward to. I didn’t even want to join a sorority, but as an heir I have to.
I pull out the map, locate the nearest coffeehouse, and circle it.
When I look up I find myself staring at a dark-haired girl standing across from me, smiling.
She has the same build as me but is slightly taller and looks like my opposite with her smoky-eyed Goth makeup.
I scan her little puff-sleeved dress edged with lace and quickly realize she looks like a living Lolita doll.
She has the sort of delicate beauty you’d find on a doll anyway, so it suits her.
She walks up to me, her smile brightening. “Hi, I’m Isabelle.” She stretches out her hand for me to shake and I take it.
“Hey there, I’m Ivy.” I try to sound as confident as she does.
“Good to meet you.” She nods with enthusiasm like it really is good to meet me. “I saw you this morning at Myrrdin House. I live there too. I’m also taking English literature as a minor.”
“Oh wow, then I’m especially happy to meet you.” It’s refreshing to meet someone who not only lives in the same dorm as me but will be going to the same classes.
“What are you majoring in?”
“Music. I play the piano.”
She looks thoroughly impressed. “I absolutely love the piano. They have the best music degree here so I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”
“Thank you. I’m looking forward to it. What’s your major?”
A spark of pride comes into her eyes. “Art.”
I could have guessed that. She has that artist vibe. “I love art. My mom and I are always going to exhibitions.”
“I do that with my Dad too. Did you want to grab coffee together? You looked like you were trying to find the coffeehouse.” She glances at the map in my hands.
“I was.” I sigh, relaxing my shoulders. “I’m in desperate need of a quadruple shot of espresso. I missed everything yesterday, so I’ve successfully managed to piss off the Theta Alpha president.”
Her smile fades and she bites the inside of her lip. “God, my condolences in advance. Tiffany can be an absolute bitch.”
My stomach twists. “Is she really that bad?”
“Yes. I went to high school with her and let’s just say we all celebrated when she graduated.”
“Damn. That doesn’t sound good.”
“Try not to worry.” She attempts to school her disdain by making her voice sound positive. “Tiffany and her lackeys were born bitches. You just have to know how to maneuver them.”
“Here’s hoping I can.”
“Come on, let’s get that coffee then we can head back to Myrrdin for the meeting. Oh, and I’ll introduce you to my friends. They’re the best bunch ever. We’ve all known each other since high school, so we’ve been crazy together for years.”
“They sound great.” I smile back at her but talk of friends reminds me how alone I am here. At least I’m making friends now.
“You’ll love them.”
“I’m sure I will.”
We head to the coffeehouse and sit at one of the tables outside on the terrace. There we talk and talk and talk, and it’s as if we’ve known each other for years.
Isabelle tells me about her friends, her family, and her art. I learn that she lost her mother when she was young and that her father is the principal of Raventhorn Academy in New York.
She also explains to me that because her mother was of Knight descent and her father from the Bratva, she had a choice of what she did here in regard to where she lived and even in joining the sorority. She chose the Knight route because it would be more prestigious for her and her family.
I have no such choices because Levgen is a senior Knight. Listening to Isabelle talk with such excitement makes me feel like I’m the only student here who would have preferred to attend a normal college, free from the Knights.
After an hour I loosen up enough to tell her about my family—as in the parts I can tell. Then somehow our conversation switches to our favorite foods.
Isabelle is in the middle of telling me about the best restaurants on campus when I spot Thorne walking down the path across from us.
The sudden sight of him makes my nerves scatter, as if little sparks of electricity are dancing beneath my skin.
In the daylight Thorne Ivanov is a million times more handsome and striking than in the moonlight.
He’s the kind of handsome and striking that demands the undivided attention of everyone with eyes. And he gets it.
Every girl within my line of sight is looking at him. With the exception of Isabelle because she’s so focused on what she’s saying to me.
Two other guys walk on either side of Thorne. Both are as tattooed as he is, wearing full black, and exude the same badass vibes that tell you they’re worshiped here.
The tall blond one looks like Thorne, so I assume he must be Caspian.
There’s too much similarity in their faces for him not to be. The other guy has olive skin and Italian features. He has the same tough guy exterior but there’s a touch of humanity in him that makes him look more approachable than either of the Ivanovs.
I’m about to look away when Thorne sees me. His stare is so riveting and commanding I find that I can scarcely breathe, let alone turn my head.
Those piercing eyes bore into me, rooting me to my chair. My nerves become a frazzled mess and my brain turns to gloop.
Isabelle’s light laughter breaks the spell. I look at her and realize she’s watching the obvious silent exchange between Thorne and me with fascination.
“Looks like you already made friends with the big guys.” A sly smirk tips her lips.
“Oh, no.” I quickly glance back at Thorne. He’s moved past us now and the world has started functioning again.
Isabelle’s smile becomes more captivated when I look back at her. “Sure doesn’t look that way to me.”
“Honestly, I’m not friends with any of them. I ran into Thorne last night when I was trying to find the dorm.”
“And what did you think?” Mischief lights up her eyes.
I don’t know her well enough to tell her that Thorne reminded me of a cross between the Joker and Hannibal Lecter. Or that I’m not immune to his looks.
Isabelle leans closer and lowers her voice. “Just to clarify, I think the Ivanovs are all hell spawn.”
I suck in a breath. “Can you say that about them?”
“I just did. I thought that might help you trust me with your answer.” She winks at me and sits back in her chair. “So what did you think, other than the fact that he’s hot?”
“I felt the hell spawn vibe.”
She laughs. “Glad we’re on the same page.”
“I take it you know him from high school too.”
“I do. He was so much worse than he is now. That’s what I hear anyway. I’m not sure I believe it. I think he just has more control and power over the things that interest him. You know, like a psycho when they get a new fixation. It’s never the same as what previously got them going.”
I laugh, unable to help myself. “How do you know that? Do you know many psychos?”
“Unfortunately I do, and I suppose I can admit to spending all my time watching way too many shows like The Mentalist , Law and Order and NCIS .”
I continue laughing. “I like those shows too.”
“Then you’ll know what I mean. The Ivanovs are all bad news. It’s entirely up to you but I’d give Thorne a miss. They call him the crazy one and he has no end of girls chasing him.”
“Believe me I have no desire to get mixed up with a crazy playboy.” Not that I’d have a chance, even with his offer to show me his dick piercing.
“Good. I had a friend who was completely in love with him. He did not let her down gently. You saw Carrie , right?”
My insides squeeze. “The first and the second movie.”
“Yeah. He’s like all the bullies rolled into one and then some. Caspian has only tamed because he’s married to Willow Raventhorn. She’s really sweet. We have some English classes with the sophomores so you’ll see her then.”
“Willow Raventhorn. Wow.”
“I know, right. She’s the heir to all of this.” Isabelle waves her hand around, motioning to everything. The things we can see and the things we can’t, which includes anything with the name Raventhorn attached to it. “Her marriage to Caspian quadrupled the Ivanov name in wealth and power. I can’t imagine what it must be like to be so rich.”
“Me too. My stepdad is wealthy, but nothing like the Ivanovs.”
“There’s no one like them on campus at the moment and there are some pretty powerful families here.”
She’s talking about people who come from families with billion dollar wealth, so I can only imagine how much the Ivanovs have.
“What’s Aleksander Ivanov like?” I need to know. We have a welcome meeting with him on Friday. I just want an idea of who he is before I see him.
Isabelle shakes her head slowly. “Not good. You don’t ever want a run-in with him. I’ve met him a few times because my father has to report to him and he runs the fundraisers. Each time I saw him I liked him less and less. But you didn’t hear that from me. I’m sure he’d have my head on a spike Game of Thrones style just for saying that.”
I gulp past the lump in my throat as I’m pulled into her grotesque vision.
“Wow, I guess I have a lot to learn.”
“You’ll be fine. Most of us have the advantage of knowing each other from high school. Once you get used to the place you’ll fit right in. And you’ll see there’s more fish on campus than Thorne Ivanov.” She looks toward the entrance of the café, watching a group of guys walk in.
I saw them earlier. They’re freshmen too and of course they’re all good looking.
“Like them?” I grin.
“Yes. But the tall dark-haired guy with the snake on his neck is mine.”
The guy she’s referring to looks like he should be a Hemsworth brother. “Is that your boyfriend?”
I’m surprised when her cheeks color fiercely. “I wish. I just meant I want dibs on him. That’s Kade Gurkovsky. I’ve known him since forever, but he’s never said a word to me.”
He must feel her eyes on him because he looks around, takes note of her and looks away again.
“Like that.” Her smile is small and playful but there’s notable disappointment in her eyes.
“You should speak to him.” I’m the last person to give any kind of relationship advice but I feel she needs the encouragement.
“I promised myself I would. That this year would be the year.”
I smile back at her. “Good. That sounds exciting.”
“Oh crap. We need to go.” She glances at her phone. “If we don’t leave now we’ll be late for the meeting.”
“That’s the last thing I want.” The rush of nerves I previously had returns, making me feel queasy like I might throw up.
“We can finish our coffee on the way over.”
That’s what we do and we even reach Myrrdin with ten minutes to spare.
We head into the meeting lounge which looks like it was plucked from the set of Legally Blonde with its pink and gold décor. There Isabelle makes use of the time by introducing me to her friends.
There’s Mackenzie, a slender redhead who’s studying dance and the performing arts. Billie, who Isabelle introduced as her best friend, and Sawyer and Savannah who are identical twins.
As they have near enough the same hair color as me they made the joke that I was their missing sister.
Everyone is nice and seem genuinely interested in knowing about me.
Billie had just asked me about my life in L.A. when someone clears their throat loudly and in an overly exaggerated manner.
We all turn to see a pretty black-haired girl standing at the door who could be a dead ringer for Megan Fox. In fact she looks more like Megan Fox than she does.
Joining her are a group of the girls who follow her as she glides in, her Jimmy Choos clicking against the floor.
“Well look at this.” Her tone in those few words is condescending as hell. “You’d think that the latecomer would have at least had the sense to keep her voice down in our room, but here she is stealing the show.”
One guess; this must be Tiffany.
Everyone is silent. Not the kind of silent when people stop talking to show respect. But the other kind. The kind you witness when they’re protecting themselves.
“I’m Tiffany, latecomer, your president.”
I already can’t stand a bone in her Dior-clad body, but I know better than to show her how I feel.
“It’s good to meet you. Sorry about yesterday and for just now. I was just?—”
“I don’t care. Listen to me and listen well.” Her eyes grow large with contempt. It’s strange to see someone look at me like that when we’ve only just met. “Don’t you ever be late for anything again. Not while I’m president of this sorority. As punishment you can clean the kitchen and do the dishes for the rest of this month. The dishwasher broke yesterday, so there’s plenty of work to do.”
“You want me to clean?” Who told me to ask her that? And in that are-you-serious tone?
Tiffany glares at me as if I’m dog shit she’s trying to avoid stepping in. “Yes, latecomer I want you to clean. You can add cleaning the toilets and bathrooms to the kitchen for your insolence. I want it done by midnight and everything must be spotless every single day for the rest of the month. Go. Now.” She points at the door.
I look back at Isabelle and the girls who watch in absolute horror, but no one is saying anything. Of course not. They don’t want the same fate as me, or worse.
Embarrassed, I leave the room and head to the kitchen with my legs trembling. Not because I’m scared of Tiffany— hell no — but because I loathe being bullied and unable to stand up for myself.
I can’t believe Tiffany is allowed to treat me like this, but why am I even surprised. This is how the Knights treat people. Like they’re nothing.
Right now I have to be nothing to fit in and not draw even more attention to myself.