Page 49

I stare at the words on the page, but nothing really sticks.

My brain is too busy bouncing between excitement and nerves to focus on my book.

The clock ticks away, reminding me I’ve got less than an hour before I have to leave.

It’s my first day at Blackridge. New school.

New people. I am trying not to freak out about it.

“Morning, sweetheart.”

I look up, finding my mom dragging herself into the kitchen. She has dark circles under her eyes, hair still tied up from her shift at the hospital. She kisses the top of my head, then sighs as she sinks into the chair across from me.

“How’d you sleep?” she asks, voice hoarse from exhaustion.

“Okay, I guess.” I sip my tea, shrugging. “You?”

She waves it off. “I’ll survive.” She yawns, then looks me over. “You nervous?”

I push my glasses up my nose. “A little.”

“You’ll be okay, Remy. You look adorable by the way,” she adds, gesturing to my crooked glasses.

I smile. “Thanks, mom.”

She stands up, rummaging through her purse. “I’ll leave bus money on the table.”

I shake my head quickly. “Don’t need it. Collin’s picking me up.”

She frowns. “But Collin goes to Eastwood. Why is he coming all the way here?”

I shrug. “He’s excited for my first day, I guess.”

“Mm-hmm.” She eyes me for a second, clearly not buying it but too tired to care. “Well, I’m heading to bed before my next shift. You’ve got this, babe.” She drops a kiss on my forehead and heads toward her room.

“Bye, mom,” I call after her.

“Bye, baby.”

I finish my tea, then head to the bathroom to comb my bangs, trying to make them look less... well, awful. My hair’s a mess of brunette waves, but at least my lip gloss makes me look semi-presentable. I pull on my oversized sweater and adjust my leggings. Good enough.

A loud honk from outside tells me Collin’s here. Grabbing my bag, I head out the door and spot his beat-up Corolla parked in the driveway. The same car he used to drive us to high school in every day.

I slide into the passenger seat and smile. “Hey, babe.”

He gives me a quick once-over, then scowls. “That’s what you’re wearing?”

I blink. “Uh, yeah? It’s just leggings, a sweater, and sneakers. Why?”

Collin sighs, shaking his head. “Remy, you need to make a good first impression. It’s college. You’re not in high school anymore.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m there on scholarship, Collin. I’m pretty sure no one’s going to care what I’m wearing.”

“They will. Trust me.” His tone is flat, like he’s already given up on the conversation. “You should’ve worn something... nicer. It’s Blackridge.”

“I don’t give a shit about that,” I snap, my patience wearing thin. “I care about school. That’s it.”

He doesn’t respond. Just presses his lips together and pulls away from the curb.

I stare out the window, watching the neighborhood blur past, the silence between us growing heavier by the second.

We’ve had this argument before. Collin cares too much about appearances.

I care too much about being comfortable.

We’re about halfway to campus when he finally speaks again. “Just... try, okay? You’re smart, Remy. You don’t have to act like you don’t care.”

I bite back a retort and settle for another eye roll. “Right.”

“Look, I’m just trying to help you.”

“Yeah, sure.”

We pull into the parking lot at Blackridge. I glance at the campus, my stomach twisting. It’s bigger than I recall. A whole new world compared to high school, but I’m ready. I think.

“Thanks for the ride,” I mumble, pushing the door open.

“Remy—”

“I’ll see you later.”

I slam the door behind me before he can say anything else. I’ve got enough to worry about without adding Collin’s opinions on my wardrobe to the list. Today’s about me, not him. I’ve got this.

Time to start something new.

I step onto campus and immediately feel out of place.

Blackridge’s campus is... something else.

I knew it was a fancy school, but this ?

This is next level. Everywhere I look, it’s rich kids.

Designer bags, flashy clothes, and sunglasses that probably cost more than anything I own.

Everyone looks like they are fashion influencers on social media.

Meanwhile, I’m standing here in leggings, sneakers, and my sweater, clutching my backpack like a lifeline.

I try not to stare, but it’s hard. Every single person looks like they belong here, like they’ve known this world all their life.

And then there’s me—here on scholarship, hoping no one notices how lost I am.

I finally tear my eyes away and head toward the admin building, trying to act like I know where the hell I’m going.

I don’t, but at least I can fake it. The big, marble building towers over me, practically glowing in the morning sun.

It’s intimidating as hell, but I make it inside without tripping over my own feet, so that’s a win.

“Hi, I’m Remy Arden. I’m here for my schedule?” I say, stepping up to the desk.

The woman behind the counter barely glances at me before typing something into her computer. “Arden... Arden... Ah, here you are. You’re a psych major, correct?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Here’s your schedule,” she says, handing me a printout. “And your dorm assignment.”

Wait. What?

“Dorm assignment?” I blink, completely confused. “I—I don’t think I have a dorm. I live off-campus.”

The woman frowns, then checks her screen again. “It says here you’ve been assigned a room in Hollister Hall. Didn’t you receive the notification?”

I shake my head, my stomach flipping. “No. I had no idea there was boarding involved. I live with my mom, and she... she didn’t mention anything.”

“Well, you’ve got a room if you want it. You can forfeit it if you’d like.”

“I—uh, I need to talk to my mom first.”

“Of course. Let me know as soon as possible so we can release it if necessary.”

I nod, taking the papers from her. “Thanks.”

“Your roommate will be here to get you. She will show you around the school,” the woman says. I am about to ask what my roommate’s name is, or even what she looks like, but she is already talking to the next student.

I step outside the admin block, feeling a little dazed. Dorms? I can’t even imagine staying in a place like this. It’s too... rich. And probably not free. I’m already on a scholarship, so there’s no way I can afford extra fees or whatever comes with it.

I sit down on a bench, staring at the campus again.

This place is insane. There are huge banners advertising the school’s hockey team—Blackridge Ravens.

I stare at a poster for a second. The guys on it look like actual models, all grins and cocky stances.

Ice hockey is a big deal here, apparently. Great. More people I don’t relate to.

My phone buzzes in my bag, pulling me out of my thoughts. Collin’s name flashes on the screen, but I ignore it. I shove the phone back in my bag. He’s probably just calling to apologize.

“Love your sweater!”

I glance up and see a girl standing in front of me, grinning. She’s got long, fiery red hair, a killer smile, and looks like she walked out of a runway show. She’s wearing a cute plaid skirt and a crop top, with thigh-high boots. Gorgeous, basically.

“Thanks,” I say, tugging at my oversized sleeves.

“I’m Maya Pierce.”

“Remy.” I push my glasses up again, feeling awkward.

Maya tilts her head, studying me for a second. “Where are your bags?”

“Uh, I didn’t bring any. I live near here.”

Her eyes widen slightly. “Oh, no, no. You’re supposed to stay on campus. Didn’t they tell you?”

“Yeah, I just found out. I didn’t know boarding was part of the deal.”

“No biggie. I’ll show you our room anyway,” she says with a shrug, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “It’s super nice. You’ll love it. Come on.”

I hesitate for a second but then follow her. She seems nice enough, and I’d rather have someone guide me than wander around like a lost puppy.

“So, what’s your major?” Maya asks as we walk.

“Psychology.”

“Oh cool, I’m doing fashion design. My parents weren’t thrilled, but screw it, right? Gotta do what makes you happy.”

“Yeah, totally,” I say, though I don’t really relate. I picked psychology because it seemed like a solid choice. Something stable. Not because I love it.

As we walk, Maya gives me a mini tour, pointing out different buildings. “That’s the library. You’ll probably spend half your life in there. Oh, and over there’s the dining hall. The food’s actually decent. And that’s the arts center—they do a ton of events there.”

I nod along, trying to absorb everything. This place is massive. And fancy. Like, ridiculously fancy. Every building looks like it belongs in some high-end magazine. It’s a lot to take in, and it just makes me more aware of how out of place I feel.

“I’m in a huge fight with my friends,” Maya says. “They can’t decide if they want to go to Olivia Rodrigo’s concert or Taylor Swift’s. It’s, like, a huge drama right now.”

I try not to laugh. “That sounds... intense.”

“Right? I’m like, just pick one , but they’re all so obsessed with both. Honestly, rich people problems,” she says with a dramatic sigh.

I blink. Okay, that confirms it. Everyone here is rich. Even Maya. I’m suddenly glad I didn’t bring up the fact that my mom’s a nurse and we’re barely scraping by. Not that she’d judge me for it, but still... it’s awkward.

We finally reach the dorms, and Maya leads me inside.

Hollister Hall is even more luxurious than I imagined.

The common areas look like something out of a five-star hotel.

Everything’s sleek and modern, with giant windows and shiny floors.

The air smells like vanilla and fresh linen, and I swear I can hear soft music playing somewhere in the background.

“Here we are,” Maya says, stopping in front of a door.