"Shoot me," I groan, pulling the covers over my head.
Twenty minutes later, I'm awoken again by a knock on my door. "Go away!" Whoever it is, and I'm assuming it's either or both of the girls, knocks again. Bleary-eyed and disoriented, I shuffle across the room to answer it. "I need--"
It's Brendan. Before I can shut the door in his face, his foot jams between the door and the frame. I hope I broke his toe. "Good morning, my fiery little nymph. How'd you sleep?"
"Get out!" I shove at the door, but he opens it without much effort and steps in. He begins looking around in much the same way Ashton did when she entered. Despite the hype about being big on privacy, there are evidently no personal boundaries at this school. "What do you want?" I demand, crossing my arms over my braless chest, not that it helps much considering I'm standing in the middle of the room in just a tank top and underwear.
Brendan openly ogles me with a grin. "Someone's not a morning person." Unlike myself, Brendan is groomed to perfection and immaculately dressed in a pair of charcoal pants and a pressed black button-down, and of course, the polished black shoes.
I pull on a sweatshirt and pair of yoga pants, before throwing my hair in a messy bun.
"How did you know which room I'm in?"
Brendan shakes his head like he pities my ignorance. "I told you, there's not much I don't know."
"I thought that was just your ego talking," I mutter. "Seriously, what do you want?"
"I wanted to walk you to breakfast," he says, focused on the stuffed zebra with a puzzled expression. "But I'd be willing to keep you company in bed if you want to sleep in."
I'm about to tell him just how much I know about punching him in the throat, but realize I don't know the way through the Court to the dining hall. And I don't know which room is Ashton's--besides there's a good chance she's still passed out. "Can I go like this?"
Brendan shrugs. "Wear whatever you want. I prefer the sleeping attire personally, but this works too."
I roll my eyes. "Are you really this pathetic? Your lines are killing me."
He flashes me his sexiest smile. And that almost does kill me. Why does he have to be so fricken hot, while still being a dick?
"Lead the way," I tell him, gesturing to the door. Brendan holds it open for me to exit and then follows. "I thought guys weren't allowed upstairs."
Brendan chuckles. "There's a way around every rule, Lana. You should know that."
"Why did you say it like that? You don't know me. You only know what you read when you hacked into the school records."
Brendan stops mid-way down the hall with an eyebrow raised. "You really think I'm a hacker?"
"Aren't you?" I continue past him and down the stairs.
He doesn't answer. I realize after we exit the dorm, that I still haven't seen anyone other than the three people I've met and a couple campus guards. No groundskeepers or teachers. It only heightens the school's unnerving charm. "Doesn't anyone work here?"
"Not many. There's only a couple teachers here for the summer session. And you'll rarely see any of the grounds crew or janitorial staff, even during the school year. They make a point to schedule them so they're not seen."
"That's weird," I comment.
"It's an image thing."
"Still weird."
I try to pay attention to each path he turns down and the specific gardens and benches we encounter, but it feels like Brendan's taking me a completely different way than Ashton and Sophia did yesterday.
"How was the rest of your night?" he asks, encircling a bright red maple tree on a small rolling hill of lush, green grass. I stop. Brendan turns and takes in my glowering expression with drawn brows. "What?"
"You know everything." It's an accusation.
"And?" He says this like I'm slow to catch on. There isn't the tiniest hint of guilt in his voice. I can't read him and it's driving me crazy. Maybe his arrogance is interfering with my ability to detect if he's lying.
"When were you in my room? And why are you fucking with me?" I demand with a bite, losing my patience.
"Umm ... you let me in your room, this morning after I knocked. And I'm not fucking with you, although I would like to--"
"If you say it, I will punch you, and not in the face," I seethe. "Stop being an ass. I'm serious. Someone was in my room last night. And you claim to know everything. So if it wasn't you, who was it?"
"I wish I could say, Princess, but I have no idea what you're talking about."
"I told you not to call me that," I growl.
"Right. Because it's actually Fairy Princess, isn't it?"
Shock cements my feet to the ground. Brendan smirks and continues walking past a small lily pond surrounded by stone benches. My heart rate accelerates. I watch him move with casual-confidence, like he didn't just admit to knowing about Allie. Which means he has access to more than just my school files.
I can't even imagine what he's cursed with, because he doesn't seem to have one redeeming virtue, forget about one that he values above all others.
I storm after him and grab him by the arm. He's stronger than he looks. I might as well be trying to move a tree. Eventually, he relents and glances down at me.
"How much do you know about me?"
"Enough."
"I swear ..."
"You're adorable when you're all fierce and threatening. Like a wood sprite gone all Atomic Blonde."
I slam my foot down on his instep. He jerks it back, swearing. "What the fuck was that for?!"
"Talk," I demand.
His jaw twitches as anger hardens his eyes. "You don't belong here."
"What?" Of all the things for him to say, I wasn't expecting something so ... obvious.
"There are prerequisites to being admitted here and you don't meet any, other than being a fuck up and having a brain. You're not Ivy League material. Your family isn't wealthy or even notable. This school has a reputation, and you don't fit. So, why are you here, Lana? Because of what happened that night? Or because of who you were with?"
I'm speechless for a minute. The dots aren't very hard to connect. But why would Niall arrange to have me sent here. How is that protecting Joey and Parker? And how does Brendan know any of this? Because who I was with wasn't in any report.
"How much of what ... happened that night do you know?" I'm careful not to admit to anything in case he's just making assumptions.
"What are you really asking, Lana?"
"Do you know the truth?"
This time, he stops walking, a bemused expression on his face. "The truth?" He studies me, a glint in his eyes. "Now I'm intrigued. The truth is the only thing worth knowing. What are you hiding, Lana Peri?"
"I didn't ask the question as a challenge to find out! I just ... need to know what you know."
"About Allison?"
"Allie," I correct him.
"Sucks what happened to her." The sympathy doesn't reach his eyes. Maybe he's a sociopath, and that's why I can't get a good feel for him. He has no emotions to read.
"Is she ..." I swallow. "Is she still alive?"
"It's still listed as an assault, not a homicide, if that's what you mean."
I relax, slightly. But the fact that Brendan knows any of this is unnerving.
"Did you do it? Push her?" He asks so calmly, like he wouldn't be surprised if I answered yes.
My jaw tightens. I burn holes through his skull with my glare.
I storm past him, not sure if I'm walking the right way. But I can't be within three feet of him right now. He's been trying to get inside my head since I met him. And now he is, and I hate him even more for it.
"Go right," he calls out as I near an intersection. When I turn, I notice the geometric topiaries that lead to the Great Hall's umbrella tables.
I grab a banana, muffin and an iced coffee, having lost my appetite on the walk over. I seek out the corner table I keep gravitating to at each meal. There isn't anyone else in the dining room. I still haven't seen the fifth studen
t that's supposed to be here with us.
"Hi."
I shake out the thoughts that had me staring and at nothing and find Ashton sitting next to me, with a cup of coffee and a greasy egg and cheese sandwich--hangover food. "Thank you so much for letting me in last night. This summer would've sucked if I got caught."
"No problem."
"What were you doing downstairs?"
Before I can answer, Brendan sits across from us with a plate of poached eggs, grilled tomato and asparagus. I can't help but make a face. That is not breakfast food. At least not for anyone under forty.
"Good morning, Ashton." His eyes drift over every inch of her. "Did you two plan your outfits?"
Ashton's wearing a torn sweatshirt that hangs off her shoulder and a pair of sweatpants. Her hair is barely contained in a low bun, with strands haphazardly sticking out. Even hungover and without a hint of make-up, she's still gorgeous.
"Oh," she says like she feels guilty. "You met Brendan."
"Someone had to keep her company."
I make a gagging sound in the back of my throat.
"Were you playing with your toys at the barn last night?" Brendan asks her, unaffected.
A devilish smirk is her only her answer before she takes a huge bite of her sandwich.
"I don't know how you do it. Drink piss-warm beer, listen to country music, and sit on bales of hay with people you have absolutely nothing in common with."
"What else is there to do?"
Brendan gives her a pointed gaze, and she fights back a grin.
"What's the barn?" I ask.
"It's an abandoned barn about a half mile through the woods," Ashton explains. "Some of us sneak out there in the summer to party there with the locals. This town is too small, and until everyone gets back, there isn't much to do. I have to improvise to stay sane or else I can't be held accountable for my crazy. I'll take you with me some night."
"Uh, maybe," I reply, not convinced I need that kind of excitement.
Brendan appears amused by my reaction but doesn't comment. "Are you working today?" he asks Ashton.
"You know I am." Ashton pushes her empty plate away. She checks her watch and asks me, "Want to walk back to the dorm? We should probably get ready. The shuttle's picking us up in an hour."
I flick my eyes to Brendan, who continues watching us curiously, like we're here purely for his entertainment. "Sure."
I take the coffee with me, leaving Brendan alone.
"I'm sorry I forgot to tell you about him," Ashton says as we push through the doors leading into the Court. Maybe this time, I'll be able to remember the way back.
"Did you hook up with him last night?" she asks casually.
"What?" I shout. "Gross!"
Ashton side-eyes me like I'm crazy. Maybe my reaction was a little dramatic.
"Relax. I'm not judging. Not many of us have any room to judge."
I stare at her in shock, my mouth open. "You?"
"He knows what he's doing." She shrugs, not bothered. "And he's honest about what it is up front. I respect that."
"So he's the school--"
"Don't." She cuts me off before I can label him.
I'm shocked into silence. I didn't think he was someone worth defending.
"He's a friend," she explains. "I get why you might not like him. He has no filter or boundaries, and he should come with a warning label. But, he is authentic. Brendan's upfront with who he is, no apologies. And that's why he's one of the only people in this school I trust."
Now I really don't know what to say.
"Besides, he can get you just about anything you need."
"For a price," I scoff.
"Doesn't everything in life come with a price?" she answers simply.
I choose to change the subject, unable to wrap my head around the fact that Brendan is trustworthy. "So, where do we work?"
"Oh, you poor girl. Your people are truly cruel to you, aren't they?"
I don't respond, because I didn't think Niall was ... until yesterday.
"The Kingston Country Club." Ashton turns down a path lined with tall sea grass. I make mental note. "I'm not sure where we'll be assigned, but hopefully we'll be on the course today."
"On the golf course?" I'm suddenly afraid they're making me caddy for the summer, lugging golf bags that are as big as I am. "Are you sure?"
She grins. "That's where the fun is."
An hour and a half later, we exit the black shuttle that's more like an oversized limousine than a bus. The drive felt like it would never end as we passed endless tree after tree, with a farmhouse and field thrown in to break it up every so often.
I follow Ashton around the side of the country club to the employee entrance. This country club is set up differently than the one we trespassed on in Oaklawn. The course is sprawled out behind the Clubhouse, with a scenic view of rolling hills and vibrant green trees. I'm convinced there isn't much else to Vermont. The Clubhouse is constructed to look like a massive house with yellow shingles. It has a giant wrap around porch and a turret on one corner. I don't see much of it before going inside.
"There are two employee entrances," Ashton explains. "This is the Greens entrance, and on the other side of the building is the event entrance. Depends on where you're scheduled to work. The Greens is the casual restaurant where the members who play golf and tennis hangout. Sometimes, families eat in there too, but they usually eat at The Deck by the pool."
We walk down a hall, passing employees dressed in khakis, polo shirts and white sneakers. The sneakers were the only thing I was told to bring. I'm hoping my experience will convince them to schedule me as a waitress, and not with the grounds crew or anything that has to do with golf. I can barely play mini-golf, forget about actual golf.
I follow Ashton into an office with "Club Manager" displayed in gold letters on the door.
A man in a suit sits behind a desk. The office isn't much bigger than the dark wooden desk and the chairs in front of it.
"Hi Cary," Ashton says, gaining his attention.
"Ashton!" Cary greets warmly from behind wire-rimmed glasses and a friendly smile. "This must be Lana." He stands and comes out from behind his desk to shake my hand. "Nice to have you with us."
"Thanks," I say without nearly as much enthusiasm.
"Ashton is going to take you to the uniform closet and have you pick out a uniform for each department."
"Formal too?" Ashton questions in surprise.
"Yes please," Cary confirms. "Lana will be training for fine dining come the winter."
I exhale in relief. I can tell from Ashton's pained face formal dining is far from her favorite thing, but it has to be better than dragging around golf bags--or mowing the grass.
"Once you've changed, give her a quick tour. The two of you will be on the bev cart for the day, so make sure you're out on the course by eleven. Lana, I'll need you to fill out paperwork at the end of the shift."
This brings a shine to Ashton's eyes. "Let's go." She takes a key from Cary and leads me to a door halfway down the hall. "Pick out a uniform from here, here, here and here." She points to different shelves. "Wear this one today." Indicating the shelves with the khakis and polo shirts. "Depending on your schedule, you may need more than one. But we'll figure that out later. I'm going to bring the key back to Cary and then I'll show you where we clock in and change."
I sort through the sizes and hold up the different uniforms, to be sure they'll fit. I meet Ashton in the hall with a stack of clothes. Since I can't clock in without my assigned employee ID, Ashton just points to the computer terminal before taking me to the locker room to change.
The tour is a blur of faces and names that will take me the entire six months to remember, and that's just the employees. Forget about the members Ashton greets by name ... mostly old men in some sort of hideous golf attire.
On our way to the Clubhouse, we pass the tennis courts. I barely glance at them when she mentions them because they have nothin
g to do with any of my jobs.
"Lana!"
I almost trip and fall on my ass spinning around at the sound of my name being called from somewhere near the tennis courts.
"Shit," I breathe when I see who it is.
Parker Harrison jogs toward us, wearing white shorts and a fitted navy sports shirt. Following at a distance carrying two tennis rackets is the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. And considering I'm standing next to Ashton, that's saying a lot. I curse the pang of jealousy that jolts through my stomach.
"Parker," I greet him coolly, ignoring the rush I experience at the sight of him. "What are you doing here?"
"I should be asking you that," he says, pulling me into a tight hug. I awkwardly hug him back because keeping my hands by my side would be even more awkward. Over his shoulder the blonde with the flawless, porcelain skin, crystal blue eyes and raspberry stained, pouty lips smiles brightly at me ... like she's happy to see me too. I'm confused by her reaction, because he's not hugging me in a I'm-happy-to-see-you kind of way. There's a possessiveness in the way his arms wrap around my body, holding me against him as he brushes his lips across my neck. "I've been worried about you."
Parker is reluctant to let me go and I have to squeeze my arms between us to casually break free.
"Good to see you too. I thought your dad would have told you what happened."
"No. Not much. I knew you were attending Blackwood, but not when, or that you'd be working here."
"Well ... here I am," I declare, stretching my arms wide; painfully aware that the two girls are watching all of this.
Parker notices when I glance behind him again and takes my hand before turning to face her. "Lily, this is Lana. Lana, this is my cousin, Lily."
Cousin? I guess maybe I can see it ... in the eyes ... a little. But I honestly would never have guessed they were related.
"Hi," I reply with a slight nod. "Umm ... it was good to see you," I casually try to slide my hand out of his grasp, "but I need to get back to work." I know the polite thing to do would be to introduce Ashton. But I don't want to be polite. Because I don't want to be standing here.
"Hi Ashton," Lily says. "Do you know Parker?" Lily's thoughtfulness makes me feel like an ass.
Ashton smiles at him in the way most girls do. It's like they can't help it. I've seen it so many times before that I want to roll my eyes at the starry-eyed gaze that possesses Ashton. I had higher expectations of her. But then again, I am one of his victims. "No. We've never met, but I've heard of you."