tricks of time ― grayson hawthorne [the inheritance games]

010. TOO RICH TO EXIST

Grayson vanished in the blink of an eye. I was still buckled into my seat in shock as he disappeared into a sea of blue blazers and plaid skirts.

Oren could sense my nervousness. "It's just a school. They're just kids."

A school that looked more like the Louvre, filled with kids who would be considered failures if they made less than 600,000$. Kids who were expected to be hotshot lawyers, neurosurgeons, and make every IV League school.

I forced my hand to the door after another glance at the front seat. It wasn't Oren's responsibility to comfort me. It was his responsibility to keep me safe, not from the looks I was probably going to get as I stepped out of the car.

And there I stood, dressed in a pleated plaid skirt and matching blue jacket with a blue crest embossed with Latin words I couldn't read. I felt out of place, like a cat in a group of dogs. My uniform was suddenly too small, and I was taking deep breaths as I stared at the exterior of Heights Country Day.

As I entered the halls of Heights Country Day, I was surprised when nobody was staring at me. Nobody was whispering. A part of me almost thought it was on purpose. That they were trying to be discreet about my arrival. On the inside, I was relieved. I've never been the type to seek for attention. Who needs attention. For the majority of what you may call my "childhood," I was without it. I've always been lurking in the shadows, and I've never relied on it. And I swear to god I'm not going to start now.

I received a few glances here and there, but nothing substantial. Even when I tried to catch someone's eye,   they averted their gaze. Until I noticed a girl staring at me, closely surrounded by a few other girls. She said something to the others, and they all looked at me at the same time. I think I could feel myself turning scarlet as I saw their snide and gum-smacking expressions, and I quickly hurried around the corner. Those girls were trouble, and I knew it. I was no stranger to bullies.

Before I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I whipped around to see the black-haired girl. She smiled warmly at me. "I'm Thea," she said, smiling. "You must be Leah." Her voice was reminded me of that of a siren, warm and luring. I smile at her, pretending to be enjoying the conversation I'm in.

She pauses for a few seconds, then opens her mouth as if she's about to take a deep breath, but talks instead. "Why don't I show you to the office?"

___

"The headmaster is Dr. McGowan. She's got a PhD from Princeton. She'll keep you  in  her  office  for  at  least  a  half  hour,  talking  about opportunities, traditions, shit like that."

She pauses to wave at someone. "If she offers you coffee, take it—her own personal roast, to die for."

Thea was looking around rapidly, clearly enjoying the stares we were getting. She reminded me a little too much of Skye.

"When  Dr.  Mac  gives  you  your schedule, make sure you have time for lunch every day. Country Day uses what they call modular scheduling, which means we operate on a six-day cycle, even though we only have school five days a week. Classes meet anywhere from three to five times a cycle, so if you're not careful, you can end up in class straight through lunch on A day and B day but have practically no classes on C or F."

"Okay. T-Thanks." I couldn't process all of this. Thea talked as fast as someone running a mile a minute.

"People at this school are like fairies in Celtic mythology," Thea says, unbothered. "You shouldn't thank us unless you want to owe us a boon."

I wasn't sure how to reply to that, so I stay quiet. Thea didn't seem to notice.

Based on the look on her face, she was clearly trying to find a way to fill the silence. "We're not so bad, really. Most of us anyway. As long as you're with me, you'll be fine."