Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
We all need to get a fucking grip. Scrapping my initial plan of discussing the material together, I rattle off instructions for the class to read an additional two chapters on their own. In that time, I take the opportunity to study Stella as she and Sybil share a textbook, quietly flipping through the pages without distraction. She can do that much, but is she capable of more? The fact that she’s friends with Sybil makes me question her background. What brought her here? What secrets is she hiding behind those expressive eyes? And why does she keep glancing up at me like she’s seeking out my approval?
She is a curious dichotomy of fire and fragility if ever I saw one. But when I glance at her file, I’m not surprised to find that at least in one regard, there is nothing different about her. She’s on track to be a communications major, courtesy of the courses picked out by her mother. Her class schedule is nearly a carbon copy of every other Loyola student before her. This is the recipe for the Ivy Leagues. But is it Stella’s desire, or is she merely a good little soldier? The answer to that question becomes painfully obvious when I read the administration’s note about photography classes being strictly forbidden, per Stella’s parents.
She likes to take photos. Yet here she is, doubling down on college level courses like a daughter who wants nothing more than to please her parents. There’s something about Stella that makes me believe she will always go the extra mile to seek approval from those with authority. I can see it every time she looks at me. And before the end of the hour, I’ve made up my mind. In the past, I picked easy, obvious targets for my projects. Without fail, they failed me. They couldn’t withstand the expectations of their peers and their family and the machine that is Loyola Academy.
But Stella won’t fail. I feel it deep in my gut. A spark of hope that I haven’t had with any of the others. A want I haven’t experienced since my own college days. I will push her harder than I’ve pushed anyone else before her, and she will cling to hold onto herself in the face of any storm I might bring her way. I will open her eyes to the realities of this world. And in the end, she will despise me for my ruthlessness, but she will be grateful.
Stella LeClaire, welcome to my final project.
CHAPTER SIX
STELLA
FOURTH PERIOD Creative Writing passes in a blur as I am yet again saddled near the Loyola mean girls and their scornful gazes. After my first run-in with them, I have since learned their names are Louisa, Libby, and Leah. Just a guess, but it seems like there’s a pretty basic requirement for their club, and it has everything to do with their names. It probably doesn’t hurt that they all come from wealthy families and have matching wardrobes too. Through the entirety of the class, I can feel their gazes boring into the back of my head while they whisper amongst each other.
The one silver lining is that Ms. Hargrave seems like a decent teacher, and so far, I haven’t earned myself a reprimand from her. She commends me several times for my correct answers as she asks questions to gauge our knowledge, and it dissolves some of my first day jitters. Loyola Academy isn’t going to be a walk in the park, but if I stay focused, I think I can do well here. I can uphold my grade point average and maintain the course laid out for me.
I’m putting everything on the line to send you here, Stella.
As Ms. Hargrave dismisses us, I release a celebratory breath for surviving the first day. Well, almost. There’s still the matter of detention. Something I hope my parents won’t be hearing about. I only have ten minutes to get there, and I’m determined not to screw this up. But before I can even make it onto the quad, I’m stopped by Louisa and her crew of cardigan clones.
“We have a message for you,” Louisa says.
“Another one?” I roll my eyes. “Well, in that case, why don’t you write a letter and send it to someone who cares?”
I attempt to step around the trio, but Libby stops me with a pink clawed hand on my chest. “The message is stay away from Ethan. He’s off-limits.”
I pry her fingers off me and examine the scowl on Louisa’s face, and suddenly, it all becomes so clear. I can’t even help the laughter that bursts from my lips. Could she be any more transparent?
“I don’t want your dumb jock boyfriend,” I assure her. “He’s all yours. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.”