Still, I nodded, accepting Donahue’s decree.
“Here is a list of on-campus activities and clubs. You might want to check out a few before choosing. First year is all about exploring who you want to become.” Donahue leaned forward, resting her forearms on her desk. “Who is it you want to become?”
I opened my mouth then snapped it shut a second later when I realized I literally had no answer to the question. None that would satisfy the headmistress of Alpha Wolf Academy, anyway. The truth would probably offend her, I thought, looking down at my clasped hands.
“Elenora,” Donahue said softly then corrected with a soft smile, “Elena.” Her hand touched my arm. “I know this is a big change for you. Most of our students have toured the campus many times with friends who’ve attended or as part of their school outings. It’s normal to feel overwhelmed.”
I felt tears prink my eyes and blinked, desperate to hold them back. I wasn’t the type of girl who cried, but neither was I the type of girl who’d ever wanted to leave my friends and family for this influential world. I squeezed my eyes shut and only opened them when I felt more in control.
“I’m sorry.” I looked up, trying to appear strong. “I’ll be fine. Thank you.”
Donahue watched me for a long moment then nodded, accepting my response. I was grateful for the woman’s intuition.
“Well, I think you’ll be happy with your Advanced English Literature 1001 class. Professor Davidson is an accomplished author and teacher. He was on the committee who chose you as this year’s scholarship recipient as a matter of fact.”
“Why did you choose me for the scholarship?” The question burst from my lips without permission like an arrow loosed from a bow. I realized I’d been holding that question in for far longer than this meeting.
I had no idea why I’d been chosen. My parents had given me the acceptance letters and danced me around the living room for what seemed like endless hours while my entire life was turned upside down, but they’d never explained how they’d managed to pull this miracle off behind my back. Or why they’d bothered to do it at all. And I’d been too caught up in my parent’s excitement and plans for my future to fight back. After all, Katherine LaFlamme herself had walked these very halls.
My parents had worked hard to give me things. I’d known that all my life. Where Sara’s and Bethany’s families were upper middle class, my parents had scrounged to pay for rent, bills, and the trendy clothes they’d always made sure I had so I’d fit in. They’d worked double time to send me to summer camp and had saved my entire senior year to get me that black satin dress I’d longingly gazed at in the window of that fancy little shop in downtown St. John’s. I’d known and I’d appreciated, so when I’d seen the joy on their faces that they’d be able to give me this, I’d been unable to say no.
Donahue opened a file I hadn’t noticed on her desk and passed me an essay I recognized instantly. I’d written it for my senior project. The 100% grade I’d received along with high commendations from my English teacher had been all the reward I’d expected for the assignment, so to see it now was a bit shocking.
“That’s my essay,” I said, hearing the blunt stupidity of my statement a moment after it was made.
“Yes, it is.” Donahue nodded her head toward the paper. “And it is one of the best pieces of writing I’ve seen in any of our students, even our graduating students.” She steepled her fingers in front of her mouth and tilted her head to the side ever so slightly. “Your application wasn’t the best, Elena,” Donahue’s mouth quirked up at the way my mouth dropped open at her bluntness. “But, this essay,” she paused and exhaled almost silently, “it tipped the scales.”
I wasn’t sure what I felt and knew I’d have to wait until I wasn’t in the headmistress’s office to figure it out, but I did understand the weight of what my parents had done for me. I’d always loved writing, had always hidden away in my room scribbling in my journals or typing up story ideas that came to me in the middle of the night. There was something wild and freeing in creating a story that felt real and whole from just the wisps of my imagination. They’d taken my passion and believed enough in my talent to reach for the impossible.
There was no way in hell I’d ever let them down.
“Thank you,” I managed to say in what seemed like a normal tone before handing the essay back to Donahue who tucked it safely away in her file.
“Yes, well, I think you’ll be a wonderful addition to our student body.” Donahue glanced at her watch. “If you can integrate into the social scene, of course. An Alpha Wolf Academy education is about more than just academics, you know.” A knock at the door brought a smile to her lips. “Which is why, I’ve arranged for you to have a student mentor. One of our second-year students volunteered. You can learn a lot from her. Come in, Daniella,” she called out.
My heart sank. I turned my head slowly toward the opening door, hoping I was wrong, praying it was another Daniella. There had to be dozens of Daniella’s on campus, hundreds even.
But as the click of high heels entered the office followed by the swing of glossy black hair and glittering emerald eyes, I knew my luck had just changed for the worst.
“Daniella, this is Elena Jensen.” Donahue gestured toward me. “Elena, this is Daniella Reeves.”
Chapter 3
I gritted my teeth and tried not to bite Daniella.
“My brother and I are the seventeenth generation of Reeves’s to attend AWA,” the Queen bitch continued in her never-ending monologue about how amazing and important her family was to the very fabric of North America. “When we graduate, we’ll join our family firm and represent the LaFlamme family personally.” Her perfect lips lifted at the corners.
“That’s fascinating,” I offered up, feeling as though an awed response was required. I rolled my eyes behind her back and wished I were anywhere but right here.
“Yes.” She nodded sharply as if she expected no less. “Well, when you’re born a Reeves there are certain expectations. You understand.” She stopped suddenly and turned on her heel. “But, I’ve been talking about my family so much I didn’t give you the chance to tell me about yours.” Her inky black eyelashes fluttered in a mockery of innocence.
My stomach dropped and, instantly, I felt guilty. I loved my mom and dad and the life they’d given me. I’d been loved and supported every day of my life, which is probably more than snotty Daniella could say about her home life, based on the bragging she’d done about her parents’ super important jobs.
But, for some reason, when I opened my mouth to tell Queen D the truth about my circumstances, all that came out was, “I don’t talk about my family all that much.” I assumed my very best haughty look and hoped she would just back off.
It seemed to work. Daniella eyed me for a long moment, arching one perfectly waxed eyebrow, then spun around and clicked off in her retro heels. I closed my eyes and apologized silently to my parents, then strode after my tour guide.
The tour ended at my Creative Writing classroom with another lift of an eyebrow and a tight smile. “I’ll leave you to your…” she seemed to pull herself up even taller with disdain, “writing class.” With an imperious` incline of her head, she was off.
I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding and let my shoulders sag in relief. That had been the single most painful experience of my entire life and I was glad it was over. Glad and completely baffled as to why someone like Daniella Reeves would care to intimidate someone like me.
I slipped into class with a group of other students and found a seat near the front, anxious to meet the professor that had liked my writing so much he’d pushed to give me an exclusive scholarship.