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)
I laugh because sarcasm is the only defense I have left. “My mom feels like we ruined her life. She had a glamorous career and then she got knocked up by a photographer. My dad promised her they could make it work. He believed he could make her happy. I still don’t know if he did it to keep her or me.”
“Yikes.” Sybil cringes, obviously at a loss for words.
“Yeah.”
“You know what?” She reaches into her purse and pops a piece of gum into her mouth. “Forget them. You’re about to start a new chapter in your life. And the best part is, you’ll have me by your side. Pretty soon, we’ll be eighteen, and we can rule the world.”
I swallow the acid in my throat and nod even though I know that isn’t true. Sybil has dreams of being a dancer, and her parents are happy to foot the bill while she follows her heart. But my parents have made it more than clear what they expect from me. It’s Cornell or nothing. My mother won’t be satisfied until she can brag about her daughter with the inside scoop on all things fashion. I guess it’s not as easy to brag about the smartass daughter who really wants to be a photographer.
“Ready to go?” My father reappears with the lunch receipt in his hand. “I think it’s about time to drop you girls off.”
LOYOLA ACADEMY ISN’T FOOLING around when they boast about superior educational resources on their website. In today’s tour, with Sybil as my guide, I’ve learned that there is a dedicated building for almost every subject. College level classes are the norm, and there are a billion languages to choose from. In addition to the plethora of athletics on offer, there’s also an Olympic-sized swimming pool at our disposal. Oh, and a student who actually went to the Olympics at fourteen.
If I wasn’t intimidated before, Sybil’s offhand comments aren’t helping as she throws out statistics about how thirty to forty percent of students matriculate at top colleges. I knew coming here that the academics would be rigorous, but Sybil’s word of choice is cutthroat. While I’ve always done well in school, this isn’t just about keeping up good grades. It’s about being the best at everything, full stop.
“This is kind of insane,” I murmur as we stroll across the quad.
Sybil laughs. “Tell me about it. You’re in another world now, Cherrybomb. There’s a hierarchy here. The girls will see you as a threat, and they will test you. And the boys will all want a piece of the fresh meat. You have to remember these are kids who have been top performers since the age of five. They expect to be the future one percent, and they will accept nothing less. That means trampling over anyone they see as competition.”
“Great.”
“It’s not all bad, though.” She shrugs. “The pressure really gets to people. We have some rager parties. The headmaster’s deadbeat son will supply weed and alcohol for a price.”
“Really?” I question. “Don’t people get caught?”
“Nah.” She smooths back her long brown hair and knots it at the base of her neck with a hair tie. “I mean sometimes. But usually the teachers here don’t pay attention. There are a couple you have to avoid, but for the most part, a lot of shit flies under the radar. Last year, when I was sneaking into my boyfriend’s dorm, I crossed paths with my math teacher, who was sneaking into the married science teacher’s house. We both just stopped and stared at each other, then went on our merry way. Neither of us ever said a word.”
“Holy crap.” I glance around the mammoth-sized campus, noting the distance between buildings. In the dark, I guess it wouldn’t be too hard to fly under the radar, particularly with teachers who are too busy looking the other way to care.
“Yeah, and that’s not even the worst of it,” she says. “There are quite a few hookup spots around campus. Let me just say that more than a couple of teachers have been caught making out in the dark too. I guess they get just as sick of these confines as we do.”
“I’ve heard stories about boarding school,” I admit. “I just never put much stock into it.”
“What do you expect when you put a bunch of kids with affluenza and little parental supervision into one giant melting pot?” Sybil shrugs.
“True.” I nod. “Is there anything else I need to know?”
She considers the question for a second before she starts pointing out the dorms and rattling off their reputations. “That’s the coke dorm. Don’t ever go there. If you needed Adderall to cram for a test, which you don’t, you could get it from Lyon’s Hall. And if you do ever decide to sneak into the boy’s dorms, always work out a system with someone on the lower level. It’s so much easier to climb through an open window and work your way to the top inside.”