Faux Real [PUBLISHED]
lizaalewis · 8 chapters · 11,754 words
1: Get Me Out of Here
“Oliver! Get your ass down here right now! You’re going to be late!”
For Christ’s sake! That woman’s voice could shatter all the glass in this overly pompous and far too futuristic-looking house. I aggressively stuff my notebook into my backpack, not caring that the pages are being bent and ripped, and head downstairs.
“For such a small woman, you sure are shrill,” I say, meeting my Auntie’s narrowed and pissed off eyes. “Are you attempting to communicate with your dogs ?” I look down at her stupid Shih Tzu that’s wearing a damn bow. “Your mommy’s loud, isn’t she?” The dog barks and I look back up at Bessie. “It seems as though Pebbles agrees.”
Aunt Bessie crosses her arms and taps her foot against the marble-tiled floor of the foyer. “You mustn’t speak to me like that, Oliver. I am not in the mood to deal with your shitty little attitude right now.”
“Well, good thing I’m moving out of here then today, yeah?” I walk over to the console table near the front door and grab my motorcycle helmet. “You and Christian can have the house all to yourselves now that school’s starting up.”
My Aunt’s boyfriend is such a twat. When he’s not cooped up in the tanning bed, he’s constantly droning on about his organic protein powder business and how he’s going to revolutionize the healthcare industry. Seeing as his body weight is that of a fourteen-year-old boy, I’m going to go out on a limb and say that his future is as bright as a starless sky.
“God, I don’t know why I agreed to be your guardian!” Aunt Bessie huffs, flapping her hands to her side. “This is precisely why I never wanted to have children.”
I swing my backpack over my shoulder, rolling my eyes. “I think my father’s money has something to do with it, no? Tell me again, how much is he paying you to be my babysitter?”
My Aunt Bessie is probably the poorest woman in Mycroft County despite living in the largest house. My uncle, may he rest in peace, was seventy-two fucking years old when Bess married him; she thought she hit the geriatric jackpot but what she didn’t account for was his stupidly long and complex prenup.
Either Bess didn’t read the damn thing or she’s just as idiotic as she looks because when he died, Uncle Carlos’s lawyer informed Bess that all his money would go to his kids, the only thing she would get to keep is the house; a house which she can’t sell; otherwise, the profit goes to said children. It’s almost laughable. But now that my father has offered Bess a substantial monthly allowance for watching me while I’m in America, she’s been nothing but a bloody nuisance. But honestly, I’d rather live with Bess than my grandparents. Those people are fucking psychotic.
“They are not paying me nearly enough,” Bessie scoffs, a smug smile on her botoxed face.
“Well, I guess your ass implants will have to wait until next year then,” I retort with a smirk, twirling my helmet around my index finger. “ How sad .“
“Oliver!” she exclaims, her whole body tensing. “Why is everything that comes out of your mouth an insult? Can’t you act like a normal human being just this once?”
“Hmm…” I purse my lips, my gaze flickering around the lavish front entrance. “No, I don’t think I can. Sorry .”
“Charming as always,” Aunt Bessie mutters, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “Your father wanted me to remind you of your agreement. You managed to stay out of trouble all summer, God only knows how . But remember, if you get kicked out of Hilton Prep he is going to withhold your inheritance until you turn thirty , is that clear?”
“Crystal,” I mutter. I can’t wait to get out of this God-forsaken hellhole. It’s a shame that Hilton Prep is only a twenty-minute drive from here. I just know Auntie Elizabeth will be popping by whenever she damn well pleases to check in on me like I’m a fucking inmate.
“Well Bess, I’d say it’s been a pleasure living with you for the past eight weeks but I was raised not to tell lies.” I flash her my pearly whites. “I’ll see you at Christmas break?”
Bessie clenches her jaw. “That is if you can make it until Christmas without being expelled.”
“Fear not, Bess. I’ll be on my best behavior. Straight arrow, you know me.”
“I do know you, Oliver, that’s the problem.” Bessie pinches the bridge of her new nose. “Hilton is not like your other schools, okay? They will not tolerate any misconduct. You only get one warning and then you’re out.”
“In that case, I’ll be sure not to get caught!” I wink at my Auntie and run out the front door before she can smack me upside the head. For such a tiny woman, her palm feels like it’s made out of kevlar.
“All your belongings should have been delivered to your room earlier today,” she calls out from the front door as I tug on my helmet and straddle my Triumph. It took a lot of pathetic begging but my father agreed to ship my baby to the US. “If you need anything else just use the credit card I gave you!”
Oh, don’t worry Bess, I plan to put that black card to great use. I toss Auntie Bossy an animated thumbs up and kick start the bike.
“Open the gates, will ya?” I yell out, hoping she hears me over the rumbling of the engine. The brass gates begin to slowly open outward and I can’t accelerate out of there fast enough. Farewell summer prison, you shan’t be missed.
It took several weeks before I got used to driving on the right side of the road. Everything in this stupid country is ass-backward. How the fuck can people vote and be enlisted in the military at eighteen but can’t buy a case of beer? And why does everything need to be supersized?
I’ve never even heard of Connecticut before Father exiled me from London. This state, or at least the area Bess lives in, makes me want to gouge my eyes out. Little cookie-cutter houses on every fucking block, porch swings, and enough golden retrievers to make a new Air Bud movie.
I’m over three-quarters of the way to Hilton, cruising down side streets when a black Hummer cuts me off, causing me to swerve and lose control of the Triumph. Before I know it, I’m skidding along the side of the road, my motorcycle bashing against the sidewalk and my body hitting the ground with a thump .
Fucking hell! Are you shitting me right now? I lay on my back and flip up the visor attached to my helmet. Who the fucks speeds down a residential street? I attempt to sit up but there’s a dull ache pulsing in my lower back. I side-eye my bike that’s two feet away from my mangled body. The front wheel is slightly crooked and there are scratches on the black paint.
Just as I try to prop myself up on my forearms, my phone vibrates in my pocket. Taking off my helmet, I reach inside my jeans and answer the call.
“What?!” I bark.
“That is not how a proper young man answers the telephone, Oliver.”
“Mother,” I sigh. “Calling me from a blocked number again?”
“Seeing as you refuse to answer my phone calls, I thought I’d try a different route. Clearly, my idea was successful.”
“I’m hanging up now,” I state.
“Oliver! Stop it!” she yells. “Don’t you dare hang up on me!”
I roll my eyes, slowly sitting up. “Listen, mother, I just got run off the side of the road. For all I know I could have internal bleeding. Perhaps now is not a good time to nag.”
I hold my phone away from my ear as my mother begins shouting. “Run off the side of the road?! Jesus Christ, Oliver! I told you that that monstrosity was a bad idea. I’m going to kill your father for allowing you to drive that death machine!”
“It wasn’t the bike’s fault!” I exclaim. “If you’re going to put the blame on anybody, it should be the wanker that was driving the other car!”
“If you were driving a car yourself, you wouldn’t be in this situation, now would you?”
Stretching out my neck, I stand up. Fuck, I’m sore. “I’m alright by the way, thanks for asking.”
She sighs. “Does anything hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital? Should I call Bess?”
“A lot of shit hurts, mother,” I mutter, surveying my poor baby. If I remember correctly, Hilton has automotive as an elective option which means they probably have a shop at the school, but I’ll have to roll her all the way there. Fantastic.
“Oh, don’t curse darling, it’s very unbecoming.”
I scoff. “Apologies, I’ll try not to say shit anymore. I know how much you fucking hate that.”
“Oliver!”
I can’t help but laugh. “Will you relax, mother? Remember what your doctor said? ‘Frowning causes wrinkles’.”
“Very funny darling! You’ll be glad to know that you are single-handedly causing me to age prematurely.” She pauses. “I swear, Oliver, I don’t know what your problem is but your father and I have had enough! With your brother’s upcoming graduation and your sister’s engagement, we don’t need any more stress !” Right, the golden children.
Propping my cell phone against my ear, I lift the motorcycle up and begin walking it down the pavement like a loser. “Why are you calling me? You’ve already shipped me across the Atlantic. How much stress can I cause you from five thousand kilometers away?”
“We did this for your benefit, Oliver! In order for you to have a bright future, you need an education. You need to attend all your courses. You need to be focused on your goals.”
“What I need is to be back in London with my mates.”
“Those boys are not your friends,” she says, her tone strained. “They’re degenerates and I refuse for you to be associated with them.”
“God, you’re so fucking judgemental! Just because they’re not sons of oligarchs doesn’t mean they’re degenerates as you so kindly put it.”
“ They are the reason you got expelled from St. Augustine’s and why you were thrown out of every other school we sent you to! Those boys were a bad influence, Oliver. I knew as soon as you told us they were older than you that it was going to be trouble.“
“We were in a band, mother. We had to practice! You always told me that if I had a goal, I should do anything to reach it.”
“Not by skipping class! Jesus-” She sighs. “I’m not having this argument with you again. One day you’ll understand why your father and I did what we did. I just hope that Hilton Prep will be a fresh start for you.”
I scoff, crossing the street. “You do realize that American teenagers are just as bad right? Do you really think that Hilton Prep is immune to degeneracy ? God, mother you’re so daft sometimes.”
“I’m going to ignore that comment,” she states calmly. “You are well aware of what is at stake and despite your behavior, I am confident that you will heed our advice and stay out of trouble.” She pauses. “One more thing, your grandfather is hosting a fundraiser for a congressional candidate in a couple of weeks. You are expected to attend and be on your best behavior, do you hear me?”
“What? Since when is granddad into politics? He’s a real estate developer for God’s sakes.”
“I don’t know the details, Oliver. All I know is that your grandfather has gotten very well acquainted with Malcolm Redford and thoroughly supports his platform.”
“Yeah, fine, whatever.” She’s so annoying.
“Alright, thank you. Well, I ought to be going now. Your sister and I are going wedding dress shopping.”
“I presume her dress won’t be white?”
“Oliver! Stop that! My God, how inappropriate.”
“But accurate, no?” I shrug. They didn’t call her easy Eleanor for no reason.
“Goodbye, Oliver,” Mother says, her tone even. I can almost imagine the vein pulsing in her forehead. “I’ll call you in a couple of days.”
“Talk then.” I hang up and continue pushing the bike to school.
Note to self: do not answer calls from unknown numbers.
Ollie has arrived and he’s uh- a bit of a dick.
Any initial thoughts?!
Thanks for reading~ Next chapter we’ll meet our girl Kennedy <3
Ollie talking to Aunt Bossy like:
2: Fresh Start but Not Really
“A little higher on the right,” I say, squinting my eyes and pursing my lips in deep concentration. It really should not take this long to hang up a damn poster. We’ve been at this for almost ten minutes and Andy Warhol’s Marilyn is still crooked.
Move-in day at Hilton Prep is always a shit-show. Since we’re seniors this year, we get to live on the fourth floor of the dormitory. The top floor comes with great perks such as bigger rooms, awesome views, and a giant student rec center that’s only for seniors. The biggest downside is that it’s virtually impossible to sneak out at night without being caught by the staff. I’m sure Maxine will try and rope me into testing Hilton Prep’s security systems. I’ll have to play along because there’s no way I’m telling her I’ve been bestowed the ultimate pass.
“My right? Or your right?” Maxine asks, lifting herself on her tippy-toes, her foot awfully close to the edge of the desk.
I let out an exhausted sigh. “We are facing the same direction, Max! My right is your right!”
“Oh…” Max snorts and almost loses her balance. “Right!”
I slap my hand over my face, peeking at her wobbling stance through my fingers. I’d like to blame Max’s current hazy mental processing skills on the fact that she’s recently discovered the wonders of edibles, but my best friend has had the personality of a stoner long before actual weed came into her life. But I think it’s good, the weed helps her chill out, otherwise, she’d be bouncing against the walls.
“You know what? Just leave it like that, it’s fine. It’s… abstract .” I would suggest that we switch positions but then the poster would definitely be crooked, well, maybe not to Maxine, seeing as she’s always standing at an angle these days.
Maxine inserts the thumbtack into the wall and turns around, dusting her hands, a proud smile on her face. “I think it looks dope!” She hops off the desk like a graceful yet tipsy gazelle. “Should we hang the other ones up too?”
My eyes widen in pure horror. That was enough torture for one day. “No! I can do those later myself.” I walk over to Max and flip the unironed white collar of her school uniform right side out. “I think we need to get down to the quad. You volunteered us to give campus tours to the newbies, remember?”
Maxine scrunches up her face, her thick black bangs falling over her eyes. “I did?”
I shake my head and let out an exasperated chuckle. “Sweetie, you have got to stop eating those gummies! Your brain is going to melt by midterms.” I pause. “Plus, you should spend your money on more important things, like jewelry or…” I look down at her feet. “More Converse.”
“My parents upped my allowance this year so money’s not a problem.” Max waves me off. “Plus, Sawyer gives me a pretty decent discount anyway.”
My gut clenches at the sound of my ex-boyfriend’s name. “You’re getting your edibles from Sawyer?! Since when does he sell drugs ? He’s the captain of the football team for God’s sake- they test for that shit like every week.”
“Crap! I wasn’t supposed to tell you that!” Maxine presses her lips into a thin line, her apologetic deep-brown eyes staring up at me.
“Too late now! Spill.”
Maxine sighs. “Okay, so apparently, Sawyer and a couple of guys on the team started making their own gummies this summer. Like a summer project, if you will. And to be honest, it’s pretty good shit.”
“Sawyer is making edibles? The same Sawyer that barely passed chemistry last year?”
I am mind-blown right now. What a fucking idiot. People sell drugs to earn money so why in the world would the son of Malcolm Redford, one of New England’s most prominent lawyers, need to sell drugs?
“It’s not just him. I think Zeek’s the real brain behind the operation. Sawyer’s just along for the ride.”
“Ezekial? The running back?” I ask, shocked by all this juicy gossip. I guess spending two months away from the city has left me way out of the loop. Although, I don’t think I would’ve survived an entire summer in New York, constantly worrying about bumping into Sawyer. Based on his Snap stories, he didn’t end up going away for the summer, not that I was creeping or anything.
“Yeah, I heard from Olive that Zeek’s dad went bankrupt and they could barely afford to pay this year’s tuition. Apparently, his dad had to take out a loan from the bank.”
“Oh my God! A bank loan? That’s horrifying. Is he okay? He must be so upset. Is he going to be able to afford our senior trip? He can’t miss that!”
Maxine shrugs. “I think so? I saw him moving in his shit earlier so I guess he came up with the money. I think he’s just glad he doesn’t have to go to a public school and live with his parents all year.”
I tilt my head. “I think we’re all glad we don’t have to live with our parents.” Or stepparents.
Max rolls her eyes. “Speak for yourself, I happen to like my mom and dad. Plus, Connecticut is so lame. There’s like nothing to do here.”
She’s been saying the same thing for three years and yet she still comes back to Hilton, even though I’m sure her parents would let her go to a public school in New York if she asked.
“You like your parents because they let you do whatever you want. They’re not even forcing you to apply for college.”
Not that Maxine needs to go to college. Her family won the Powerball lottery ten years ago and they’ve been living like royalty ever since. Unfortunately, those of us that come from old money have to live up to certain expectations- like getting into Harvard. But I’m confident I’ll get early admission seeing as both my parents are legacies and donate a shit-ton of money to the university.
“Sorry that my parents are cooler than yours,” she sings while fixing her neon yellow thigh-high stockings which are not standard issued school uniform.
“You know you’re going to get written up for wearing those, right?”
“Oh no, an hour of detention, how will I survive?” Maxine feigns crying.
I roll my eyes. “It’s only the first day and you’re already breaking dress code. What else is new?”
Maxine pouts, trying to be cute. “But you love me regardless, right?”
“Of course I do!” I swing my arms around my petite and ballsy friend. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t write you up.”
Max pinches my side and I jump back yelping. “Please don’t tell me you’re a goddamn Hall Monitor this year! Kenny, that’s so lame!” Max whines, shaking her head feverishly.
I cross my arms. “I’m not a Hall Monitor, I’m a Student Liaison Officer .”
“Dude, that’s just a fancy word for Hall Monitor,” Max scoffs. “Why would you do this to yourself? This is like social suicide!”
Always so dramatic! “Because it’s going to look fucking amazing on my application to Harvard, okay? Also, bear in mind that if I’m the SLO for our class, you can sneak out whenever you want and I can cover for you. If someone else was the SLO, they’d totally report you.” I look at her smugly, seeing the rusty gears in her mind turning.
“Oh shit!” Max laughs, slapping my shoulder. “This is dope! I’m basically safe all year!”
“Mmm…” I squint at her. “Well, actually…”
“What? Are you seriously going to write me up? I’m your friend!” Max frowns, pretending to wipe a tear from under her eye. “Your best friend!”
“I have to be fair to the other students Max, but don’t worry, I’ll be very lenient with you. Like one ticket a week.”
SLO’s can only issue tickets for misdemeanor infractions which usually just result in detention or kitchen duty which aren’t a big deal. Every student at some point has gotten one, besides me, obviously . According to our school’s policy manual, the big no-nos that people really need to avoid are the Big Five: possession of a weapon, drug/alcohol use on campus, physical/ sexual assault, and excessive bullying. I guess normal bullying is fine, we just can’t be too mean. Personally, I think that’s far too subjective to be a concrete rule but whatever, I’m not the Headmaster.
“One a week?!” she exclaims.
I tilt my head to the side. “Max, you were getting like three a week last year, so don’t at me right now.” Max opens her mouth but I cut her off. “Plus! You’ve been talking to Sawyer behind my back all summer apparently, which is like breaking all our BFF rules. But am I mad? No, I’m not. You know why? Because I don’t care. And I’m over it.”
Max blinks at me, cocking up an eyebrow. “The fact that you keep saying you’re over it, kinda means you’re not.”
“I am!” I insist, crossing my arms. “Sawyer who?”
“Ken, you’re allowed to be pissed off at him. The guy dumped you for no reason after two years of dating. It’s okay not to be okay.” Oh my God, she sounds like a mental health slogan.
“I’m sure he had a reason; otherwise, why would he do it?” I ask quietly.
Junior Prom was supposed to be a magical night, and it was, until…it wasn’t. I didn’t think that night would end with me crying alone on the bathroom floor of the hotel, staring at a key card for a room that I said I wasn’t ready for. You’re worth the wait , he used to tell me. Bull-fucking-shit.
“Because he’s a fucking idiot, Ken and you can do better than him anyway.” Max gives me a hug. “It’s his loss, not yours.”
“Yeah,” I say softly. “But we had plans. We were going to be the queen and king of Harvard. We were both going to run for Senate, change the world.”
“Kenny, dude. You’re seventeen, enjoy it while it lasts. You can worry about world domination when you graduate.” Max grabs the pair of sunglasses atop her head and puts them on. “Until then, go slap on some lipgloss, and let’s jet.”
I shake my head, trying to reboot my mood. “You’re right, I know you’re right,” I say under my breath and head to my vanity. Grabbing my favorite blush pink gloss by Anastasia Beverly Hills, I apply it carefully to my lips before popping a tablet into my mouth, hoping that it’ll get me through the day. Dang, I’m running low. “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s go whip some freshmen into shape!”
Maxine loops her arm through mine as we make our way through the hordes of students and down to the quad. The fact that Maxine doesn’t remember signing us up for volunteer duty doesn’t shock me, she was pretty lit when Headmaster Rothland asked her during finals last semester. Someone thought it would be a good idea to celebrate finishing Junior Year with a bottle of Grey Goose, too bad the girl forgot she had one more test in the afternoon. Needless to say, her History essay looked like it was written by a toddler.
We exit the front doors of the dorms just as Mr. Rothland is coming inside. Speak of the devil. Mr. Rothland is sporting his usual dark grey suit and sour expression, two things you’ll never see the man without.
“Miss Carmichael, Miss Chen, welcome back. I take it your summer vacations were thrilling?” he says, stopping us at the top of the stairs. He looks down at Max. “But hopefully not too thrilling, right Miss Chen?”
Max snorts. “It was just fantabulous, Rothy. I went to Egypt with my folks. Saw some pyramids, got spat on by a camel. It was dope.”
The Headmaster pinches the bridge of his nose. “Miss Chen, do you remember when we talked about nicknames and respect?”
I close my eyes, second hand embarrassed. She’s literally crazy! Like, Oh my God, I could never!
Max rolls her eyes. “Sorry, Mr. Rothland,” she mutters.
“Since it’s not yet 9 am, I’ll let it slide just this once,” he states, scanning our faces. “Miss Carmichael, congratulations on your new position as Student Liaison Officer, well deserved.”
I beam. “Thank you, Mr. Rothland! I promise I will uphold the integrity of all the SLOs before me.”
“Suck-up,” Max whispers under her breath and I give her elbow a tight squeeze.
“I expect nothing less from Daniel Carmichael’s daughter.”
I fake a smile. “Of course.” God forbid my accolades are a result of my own intelligence and grit rather than my DNA.
“Well, have a good day, girls.” Rothland raises a bushy eyebrow as he leers at my best friend. “Stay out of trouble?”
Maxine’s whole body tenses as she jumps up and salutes him. “Aye Aye, Captain.”
I giggle through my nervousness. She’s going to be the death of me, I swear. “Goodbye!” I exclaim and drag Max down the stairs. “What was that?!”
Max sucks on her teeth, flapping a hand at me while staring out into the quad. “Chill Ken, it’s fine! I’m just being me!”
“And as much as I love you, I don’t think that Rothland appreciates your…quirkiness.”
“Rothland can suck my dick,” Max says casually, looking around the quad. “My parents paid thousands of dollars for me to be here. I should be able to call him whatever I want.”
My gaze flickers around us. “You have got to keep your voice down! There are teachers everywhere!”
Maxine suddenly stops looking around, her mouth gaping open. She lowers her sunglasses. “Hot damn…”
I follow her sightline. Trudging up the sidewalk, motorcycle in tow is probably one of the most disheveled boys I’ve ever seen. Oh my God, why is his face dirty? His black skinny jeans and leather jacket tattered, a few holes on his legs exposing his skin, his shaggy brown hair hanging over his face.
“Ew,” I murmur.
Maxine turns her flabbergasted head at me. “Did you just say… ew ? To that?!” She shakes her head. “Kenny…he’s like…a God .”
I scoff, giving him another once-over. “Yeah, like the God of Filth . Who dresses like that?”
“Uh- hot people?”
“Maxine, he has holes in his clothing. He must be impoverished. You shouldn’t gawk at him. It’s rude,” I say, turning around and looking the other direction.
“Oh my God!” Max exclaims. “He’s coming this way!”
I whip my head around. Dirty-boy has now veered off the sidewalk and is pushing his motorcycle through the freshly cut grass of the quad. “Do you think he’s lost?” I ask, completely taken aback.
“I’ll go find out,” Max says with a sultry edge.
I hold out my arm. “You stay here! I’ll deal with it. I don’t need you going and falling in love with…whatever he is.”
“Oh, come on!” Max whines.
“No!” I shoot her a glare. “This will be my first act as an SLO.” I flip my hair and straighten out my shoulders. “Wish me luck.”
Max rolls her eyes and leans against the railing, crossing her arms. “I hate you.”
I wave her off. “Shut up. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Our girl Ken-Ken has arrived!
I imagine her as the love child of Blair Waldorf and Rory Gilmore LOL
THOUGHTS?
Kenny looking at dirty-boy like:
3: What Just Happened?
Christ, my head is pounding. I better not have a fucking concussion. All I want to do is drop off this damn bike, pop an Advil, and take a hot shower. I continue to push the Triumph up the quad, not wanting to go the long way to the auto shop. In the corner of my eye, a girl with long wavy blondish-brown hair wearing a Hilton uniform is sauntering towards me, her dolled up face plastered with curiosity and purpose.
“Hi, excuse me,” she says, stopping in front of me, her eyes giving me a slow once-over. “But-”
“You’re excused, love,” I say, steering the motorcycle around her. I’m so done with today.
Her mouth slightly drops. “Wait, stop!” she commands, holding out her arm and blocking my path.
“Really?” I scoff. “Make me.”
She tosses me an unimpressed glare, coiling her fingers around my handlebars. “Like this?”
I stop dead in my tracks, my eyes darkening. “Don’t touch my motorcycle.”
She tilts her head. “Don’t ignore me when I tell you to stop.”
“Who are you to tell me what to do?” I scowl at her, meeting her combative hazel eyes.
“I’m Kennedy Carmichael and you’re not allowed to have this-” Motion to the motorcycle. “ Thing , on school grounds.“ Did she just- Oh, no fucking way.
I lower the kickstand with my foot, shaking my head. Time for a little lesson . “This thing is a fully restored 1972 Triumph Bonneville T120. This motorcycle is a piece of British history, an icon if you will.”
Kennedy blinks then lets out a quiet chuckle. “I don’t care if this motorcycle belonged to Prince Harry himself, it’s not allowed on school property.”
I suppress a laugh. “Prince Harry? Really?”
“Yeah, he was like super into motorcycles back in the day. Shouldn’t you know that seeing as your English?”
“Oh, so since I’m from the UK, I should know the pastimes of everyone in the royal family? That’s just absurd.”
Kennedy’s lip twitches. “What’s absurd is this entire conversation. Move your motorcycle off the quad.” She points to the ground. “It’s leaking gas all over the grass. People sit here. That’s just gross.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “That’s oil, you idiot.”
Kennedy crosses her arms, her eyes bugging out of her head. “You did not just call me an idiot. That is so rude.”
I tap my index finger against my mouth. “Oh, but I think I did.”
Pressing her lips into a thin line, Kennedy narrows her eyes. “Just because I’m not well versed in motorcycle gunk doesn’t mean I’m an idiot. If anything you’re the idiot for thinking you can talk to me like this.”
I chuckle. This girl is fucking mental. “Someone’s a little defensive. I take it nobody has ever called you stupid before?”
“Oh, so now I’m stupid and an idiot,” she says, scrunching up her face.
“Semantics, love,” I smirk. “Are you going to get out of my way now?”
Her eyes flicker with fierce determination as she lets go of my motorcycle handles and takes a step closer to me, craning her head up to meet my eyes. “Listen to me British-boy , you’re clearly lost. This is Hilton Academy, a private school which means you’re trespassing, so you should get going before I call security.”
I cock up an eyebrow, oddly amused at her assumption. “I go here,” I whisper, looking down at her shocked expression.
“ You … are a student here ?“ She almost looks repulsed. “Wow, I guess they’ll accept any Tom, Dick, and Harry these days. And I thought Hilton had higher standards.”
“Well, seeing as you’re a student here, the standards can’t be that high,” I retort. This girl is starting to piss me off.
She blinks, sucking in a deep breath. “I’ll have you know that I have the highest GPA in my class.”
“Is that supposed to impress me?” I ask, leaning against my bike. Clearly, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.
A sly smile captures her face. “Adorable, you think I’m trying to impress you? How presumptuous.”
I shrug. “Why else would you be listing off your accomplishments? Is this perhaps a social norm in America? ‘Hi, nice to meet you. My name is Oliver. My GPA is 3.4 and last year I won the spelling bee’ .”
She rolls her eyes. “Wow, yeah, that’s exactly how we do it here. Look at you, assimilating so quickly!” If sarcasm was a person, it’d be this girl.
“Well, you know, melting pot and all,” I reply flatly, wincing as I roll my neck. Fuck, I hope I don’t have to go see a doctor.
Kennedy purses her lips, her eyes scanning my bike and body. “Did you crash or something? Or are you just allergic to soap and water?”
“What?”
She motions to my face. “You’re dirty.”
Pulling out my phone from my pocket, I look at my reflection. Fucking hell. I definitely need a shower now. “I didn’t crash,” I mutter, using the pad of my thumb to wipe the grease smudges off of my face. “I was cut off by an obnoxious Hummer.”
“A Hummer?” she asks softly. “Was it uh- black?”
“Yeah, it was.” I frown. “How’d you know that?”
“Lucky guess…” she says slowly, her gaze flickering over my shoulder towards the parking lot. Kennedy’s face falls, her eyebrows furrowed and her jaw tightening. “No way…”
I whip my around and follow her sight-line. Walking up from the parking lot, a bleach blonde girl under his arm, is a dude that could easily pass as a Ken doll; beige khakis, Polo shirt, and enough hair gel to grease a wheel.
Malibu Ken’s eyes dart towards us, his expression strained yet casual. What the fuck is his problem? When I turn back to face Kennedy, her fists are balled up and she’s almost shaking.
“Oi, you alright there?” I ask, slightly confused by her change in demeanor. “Are you having a stroke?”
Kennedy closes her eyes for a second, turning towards me eerily slowly. As soon as her eyes snap open, I know I’m in deep deep trouble; glowing in her irises is a hint of devilish mischief and a very faint trace of sadness. What is going on right now?! Why is she staring at me like that?
She licks her lips, taking a step closer to me, her arms reaching up and grabbing the lapels of my leather jacket. “What are you doing?” I ask warily, leaning back, trying not to fall over the motorcycle.
Kennedy looks over my shoulder one more time and frowns. Before I can crane my neck to take a look at whatever the fuck she’s glaring at, she lifts herself on her toes and aggressively flings her face forward, her lips crashing against mine. Dear God, she actually is mental! I try to push her off but my brain and body don’t seem to be on speaking terms right now, so instead, I wrap my arms around her waist and kiss her back. Fuck, maybe I’m mental too!
She pulls away quickly, stumbling back and covering her mouth, her eyes widen with blatant embarrassment. I blink at her, completely puzzled.
“What the fuck was that?!” I exclaim, pushing myself upright and brushing my fingers against my lips. So sticky! Was she wearing fucking lipgloss?!
“I- uh,” she stammers, biting her lip, her fingers fidgeting. “I gotta go!” She turns on her heel.
Oh, I don’t fucking think so! “The hell you do!” I reach out and grab her forearm, tugging her back towards me. “Not before you explain to me why my mouth is covered in this sparkling girl shit.”
Kennedy whimpers, looking around like she’s trying to find help. Not so brave now, is she? “It was an accident?”
I blink. “You expect me to believe that you accidentally grabbed my collar and pounced on me like a cat in heat?”
She nods timidly. “Yeah?”
“Unlike you, I’m not an idiot.” This must have something to do with Malibu Ken; she was relatively normal before he came around. “Who was that guy you were staring at?”
Her eyes widen. “What guy?” she peeps, her tone rising several octaves. “There was no guy.”
Leaning down so that we’re face-to-face, I whisper, “Stop lying to me. I think that after assaulting me like that, you owe me an explanation.”
Kennedy crosses her arms defensively and scoffs. “Assault?!”
“Yes, assault. I should report you to the Headmaster!”
“Oh my God, you can’t be serious. You kissed me back if I remember correctly.”
I bite my tongue. Fuck, she noticed. “I was coerced.”
She snorts, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “By who?”
“ Whom ,“ I correct her in a clipped tone. “Clearly, GPAs are no longer testaments of one’s intelligence.”
Kennedy’s face turns a light hue of pink as she shoves me. “You are just-” She stomps her foot on the ground which causes me to let out a low chuckle.
“I’m what?” I ask in a taunting tone. “Finish your sentence, love.”
She balls up her fists, her features contorting. “I so want to punch you right now,” she seethes, her frighteningly enraged eyes piercing into mine.
“Wouldn’t be your first assault of the day now would it?” I smirk, angling my jaw towards her. “Come on now, do it.”
Kennedy closes her eyes, low squeaks escaping her throat. “I hate you!” she exclaims, running a manic hand through her hair.
I laugh. She’s kind of cute when she looks like she’s about to explode. “Evidently not though since you kissed me.”
“Oh my God, will you let that go? I did it because my ex-boyfriend was holding hands with Corrine fucking Davis. It had nothing to do with you, okay?!”
My jaw drops. “You used me?” I grab my chest dramatically. “I feel dirty .”
Kennedy rolls her eyes. “You are dirty,” she states flatly. “I’m done with this.” She points to the motorcycle. “Get this shit off the grass or I’ll write you up next time I see you.”
Write me up? What the hell is she talking about? “What do you mea-”
I’m cut off by her hand in my face. “Stop talking and just move your bike.” She blinks, a tight smile spreading across her face. “ Please ?“
My blood boils. She thinks just because she said please I’m going to bend the knee like some simp? How idiotic. “No!” I huff.
“Fine! Have it your way!” She straightens out her shirt and flips her long hair over her shoulder. “I’ll be seeing you around-” She pauses, shooting me daggers. “ Oliver .“
I scoff at her thinly veiled threat. “Ooo, I’m scared.” Wait, when did I tell her my name?
“Welcome to Hilton,” she says in an eerily threatening tone and then checks her watch. “You better get going, homeroom is in an hour.”
“See you around, Kennedy, “ I sing. This girl doesn’t know what she just started.
Or maybe you don’t , a voice in my head counters as I watch her storm away.
Well then….this should be fun.
THOUGHTS?
Ollie be like:
4: More Issues Than Vogue
“Maxine, don’t even start with me!” I exclaim, rushing past my best friend. I can’t believe I just kissed that low-life! This is not happening. This is a dream. No! This is a freaking nightmare. I’ve clearly been possessed. Maybe my dad was right… I should go to church more often.
Maxine grabs my hand and tugs me backward. “Dude! What the fuck was that?! I thought you were going to go talk to him, not make-out with him!”
“We didn’t make-out! It was-uh, just a peck,” I stutter, full-blown anxiety coursing through my veins. “Can we talk about this later? We have to go do campus tours. We can’t leave the freshman to fend for themselves.” I try to pull away but her grip is ironclad.
Maxine crosses her arms, her eyes ridiculously assertive. “Screw the tours! Explain yourself, woman!”
Grunting with deep-seated frustration, I drop my face into my hands. “I was just telling him to move his motorcycle and then we started arguing and then I saw Sawyer with Corrine, and I just…snapped.” I jerk my head up. “Wait, you saw us kissing, right? Do you think Sawyer saw?”
It blows my mind that Sawyer, after years of telling how much Corrine annoys him, is dating her! I shouldn’t be this surprised though, I guess with Corrine he knows he’ll get
some
. Every other guy in our class has. They don’t call her The Joint for nothing.
Puff Puff Pass.
“Dude, everyone within a thirty-yard radius saw you two kissing. You were arguing pretty fucking loud.” Maxine pulls out her phone. “I even got a video!”
My face pales. “You were recording us?! Max! That’s so creepy! Why?” This is horrible. She has physical evidence of my momentary insanity. “You didn’t post it anywhere…right?” If she did, my life is over.
Maxine smirks, forcing my heart to drop into my stomach. “Oh relax, Kenny,” she laughs. “I didn’t post it. I just wanted to document the wildest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Imagine witnessing Santa Claus smoke crack- same energy.”
I blink. Her analogies have never been on point but this one…kind of makes sense. “God, why did I do that?” I whine. “So stupid.”
Maxine pats me on the shoulder. “Hmm…let’s see…spite, jealousy, hormones, a not yet fully developed frontal lobe. Or! Maybe because you thought he was hot? Hmm?”
“He is not hot!” I scoff. “He is the rudest, most infuriating person I have ever met! If he didn’t have an accent, I wouldn’t be able to list any positive qualities, like at all!”
Maxine springs up, her eyes gleaming with intrigue. “He has an accent? “
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, he’s British or something,” I mutter, his annoying voice ringing in my head. “He called me an idiot, Max! Me!”
Maxine starts laughing, looping her arm through mine. “Why did he call you an idiot?” she probes in an overly sweet tone.
I suck in a sharp breath and give Max a play-by-play of our conversation as we make our way to the group of lost freshmen. Oliver better be in a grade below us. I refuse to breathe the same air as that asshole.
After twenty-minutes of showing all the skittish and nervous fourteen-year-olds around the campus, Max and I scurry off to Building C for Homeroom with Mrs. Patella.
“Okay, remember what we talked about, right?” Maxine whispers in my ear. “Don’t stare at Sawyer. It’ll make you look desperate and creepy and we don’t want that. Just ignore him. Pretend he doesn’t exist. Okay?”
Easier said than done. With his classic good looks, sparkling smile, and never-ending entourage following him around like he’s a king, Sawyer is pretty freaking hard to avoid. Everyone always thought it was odd that we were a couple; why would the jock fall in love with the brainiac? But those people didn’t know Sawyer like I knew him. We shared the same goals, the same sense of humor, the same values- or so I thought.
A sour taste manifests in my mouth as soon as we turn the corner and Mrs. Patella’s classroom comes into view. I knew Sawyer and Corrine would be in the same homeroom as us this year; what I
didn’t know
is how sick I’d feel watching them hold hands and make goo-goo eyes at each other.
Gross.
Lingering outside the classroom, Leon and Felicity both turn their heads when Maxine yells, “bitches!” at the top of her lungs and runs up to them, waving her hands in the air like a maniac. I follow closely behind, making sure to avert my gaze from my ex-boyfriend and his new
toy.
“Kennedy! Maxine! My angels! Come here!” Felicity spreads her freckled pale arms and pulls us into a group hug, almost clonking our heads together. “How I’ve missed you!”
“Don’t hog them!” Leon interrupts her aggressive embrace, tugging my arm. “Oh my God, Ken, your hair!” He eyes my botched attempt at a balayage. “It doesn’t look too bad!”
I roll my eyes. “That’s because I went to a salon and paid $500 for them to fix it. That YouTube video you sent me was completely useless.”
Leon’s jaw drops. “Brad Mondo is a guru! You probably just didn’t follow his instructions correctly.”
Max snorts. “If anyone can follow instructions, it’s Kenny. I’m with her on this one.”
“See!” I cross my arms. “Maybe you should dye your own hair and show me how it’s done.”
Leon tilts his head, his eyes alight with humor. “If I bleached my hair, I’d look like Chris Brown circa 2011, that’s not a good look, for anyone.”
Leon and I glare at each other for a second before Felicity sighs. “Okay, enough children. We have more important things to discuss, like Kennedy losing her mind half an hour ago.”
“What’re you talking about?” I ask her slowly, side-eyeing Maxine.
“Maxie sent us a video of you devouring that leather jacket-wearing stud!” Felicity exclaims, shoving her phone in my face. “You almost look feral!”
“Max!” I whine. “You said you didn’t post it anywhere! What the hell?”
Max purses her lips, sheepishly kicking her foot against the wall. “I didn’t post it. I just sent it to Leon and Fel.”
Leon smirks, watching the video on Fel’s phone. “My soul almost left my body when I watched it for the first time. Who knew our little Ken-Ken has such high libido.”
“Guys! Will you stop? Please! It’s not what you think.” I crane my neck over my shoulder and sneak a peek at the new It Couple . “I thought maybe I could make Sawyer jealous,” I admit timidly. “And then he’d realize how much he loves me.”
“Seeing as his tongue is so far down Corrine’s throat that he could probably touch her tonsils, I’m going to go out on a limb and say that it didn’t work,” Leon notes casually.
Felicity’s elbow flies into his ribs. “Leon! Don’t be such a dick, she’s still fragile!”
I laugh nervously, trying to cover the gut-wrenching pain in the pit of my stomach. “It’s fine, Leon’s right. It was…stupid.”
The loud clicking of orthopedic high heels echoes through the hallway. Oh, thank God, Mrs. Patella is here. We part like the Red Sea to make room for our sixty-one-year-old teacher.
“Alright, everyone.” Mrs. Patella unlocks the door. “Take a seat. Quickly now.”
Max, Felicity, Leon, and I rush to the far end of the classroom and sit down. Max always chooses to sit behind me in every single class we share so she can text behind my back, or cheat off of me during tests, both reasons have merit.
“Alright, welcome back, everybody,” Mrs. Patella begins, pacing back and forth in the front of the classroom. “I take it everyone had a relaxing vacation?” A sea of nods and yeses fill the room. “Excellent. Let’s start with some housekeeping then.”
Mrs. Patella drones on about this year’s schedule, academic clubs, and social events; emphasizing the importance of extracurriculars on our college application forms. When she’s just about finished listing off every club available at Hilton, the classroom door springs open and Oliver comes sauntering inside, holding a note in his hand.
Despite my hatred for the boy, I’d be lying if I said he doesn’t clean up well. Even though his tie is haphazardly looped around his neck and his button-up shirt is not tucked into his pants, he looks more tame and approachable now than he did an hour ago. I don’t know why he even bothered showing up this late, Homeroom is only for thirty-minutes.
“Apologies,” Oliver says lazily to Mrs. Patella, handing her the folded piece of paper. “I had mechanical problems.” I turn my head away, hoping he doesn’t see me.
Max pinches my side. “Oh my God! Isn’t that the guy?” she whispers.
Leon and Felicity both lean towards me like the nosy fucks they are. “That’s him, right?” Leon murmurs.
“Will you guys shut up !” I sneer under my breath, waving them away, my heart racing. Shit! He’s in our grade! A sheen of sweat forms on my palms when Oliver’s eyes flicker in my direction, cold and calculating. He tosses me a wink before sitting down at an empty desk in the back of the classroom.
Mrs. Patella places his note on the table. “It seems as though we have a new student joining us from overseas.” She gestures towards British-boy. “Why don’t you give us an introduction and tell the class an interesting fact about yourself.”
Most of us have been going to school together since we were six years olds so a new student is a rarity, especially since Hilton is an exclusive prep school. A part of me wonders how he even got accepted. Every head turns towards the new kid with the shitty attitude, an air of curiosity permeates the room. The only person not looking at him is Sawyer; instead, he’s scrolling through his phone under the desk.
Oliver runs a hand through his messy hair and sighs. “I’d rather not,” he says flatly.
Mrs. Patella smiles, an action that outsiders would interpret as friendly, but Hilton students know better. “That was not a request,” she states. “Introduce yourself. Right now.”
“Fine!” Oliver rolls his eyes and stands up begrudgingly. “I’m Oliver Knight, obviously I’m from England and uh-” He lip twitches as if speaking hurts. “An interesting fact about myself is that I’m ambidextrous.” He collapses back into his seat.
“Ambidextrous?” A girl from the middle row asks. “Is that like British for bi?”
Oh, Lord … My friends and I exchange a look of pure disbelief before Leon laughs and corrects our ditzy classmate. “No, Marcie, that has nothing to do with sexual orientation. It means he doesn’t have a dominant hand.”
“Oh…” Marcie’s eyebrows knit together as she turns around and faces Oliver. “So, like you can write with both hands?”
Oliver smirks at Marcie then his eyes briefly find mine. “I can do everything with both hands,” he says. I roll my eyes. Gross.
Mrs. Patella claps her meaty hands to get our attention. “Alright, thank you for that, Oliver. On behalf of everyone here, I’d like to officially welcome you to Hilton.”
Oliver doesn’t say anything, just nods. Mrs. Patella doesn’t seem to mind his silence because she continues without missing a beat. “The last item on the agenda today is introducing this year’s Student Liaison Officer. Kennedy, would you like to come up and say a few words before I dismiss you all?” Mrs. Patella retreats to her desk and begins typing on her computer.
I take a breath to steady myself. I wasn’t nervous until Oliver stumbled into the class. Straightening out my shoulders, I get up and make my way to the front of the class. Based on everyone’s scowling expressions, I’m not expecting an applause afterward.
“Hi everyone, as you probably already know I’m Kennedy Carmichael and I’ll be the SLO this year for our class-”
“Snitch!” A voice calls out and my eyes dart to Ezekiel who’s sitting beside Sawyer and Corrine. Really? Zeek was a good friend of mine when Sawyer and I were dating but I guess lines have been drawn and he’s on Team Sawyer.
Mrs. Patella peers up from her computer to say something but I shake my head. “It’s fine,” I assure her.
Glowering at Ezekial, I clear my throat. “Despite what you all might think , my primary duty is not to be a snitch , as Zeek so eloquently put it, but to ensure that my peers have access to the resources they need to be successful this year. And yes, I do have the authority to hand out blue slips if I deem your behavior or actions violate our school rules, but with that said, I’m confident that as Seniors we will try our hardest to abide by the standards set forth by the Academy. Right?”
I scan the room trying to make eye contact with all my peers in an attempt to gain their respect and boost my confidence. I know they must hate me but I honestly don’t give a shit. My future is far more important than their opinions. When my eyes land on Oliver, a rolled-up piece of paper ricochets off my temple and lands on the floor. Dread washes over my body. Oliver’s mouth opens slightly, his eyes bright with amusement as he turns to face the culprit.
Corrine.
“Oops! I was aiming for the recycling bin,” she smirks, batting her fake eyelashes. She turns to face Sawyer. “Maybe you can give me a few lessons in throwing, baby?”
Sawyer tenses, his eyes flickering between me and his new girlfriend. “Not cool, Corrine,” he says flatly.
Corrine slumps back into her seat, crossing her arms. “It was an accident,” she mutters.
“Well, you’d know all about accidents , wouldn’t you Corrine?” Max pipes up, her tone saltier than the Atlantic Ocean.
“Shut up, Maxine!” Corrine sneers, her face turning pink. “You’re such a freak.”
Maxine laughs, completely unaffected. “It’s actually quite funny if you think about it. My family had like a .01% chance of winning the lottery and your daddy’s condom had the same odds in breaking.” She bites her lip and blinks. “It’s just super sad how my family got money and your family got you .”
Corrine’s face turns crimson, her jaw tightening. “Go fuck yourself, Max.”
Maxine fakes a frown. “Aw, are you mad?”
Oh, dear Lord! Why am I still standing up here and why the hell isn’t Mrs. Patella intervening? Even though Max is probably going to get detention, I can’t help but grin at my best friend. Corrine should know better than to fuck with Max. I can’t believe we used to be friends.
“Miss Chen! Miss Davis!” Mrs. Patella stands up from her desk, glaring at the two girls with disapproval. Finally! “Corrine, you should be abhorred by your language.”
“See?” Maxine says, smirking at Corrine. “Even Mrs. Patella thinks you’re a whore.”
I slam my hand over my mouth. Either she’s trying to be funny or she literally misheard Mrs. Patella.
“Maxine Chen,” Mrs. Patella says through her teeth. “Headmaster’s office now.”
Max rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
Corrine grins smugly at Max who collects her notebook and heads out of the class. “Miss Davis, you may join her,” our teacher adds. “Everyone else you are dismissed.”
Mrs. Patella turns to me. “Miss Carmichael, please stay behind.” Her eyes dart to Oliver. “You too Mr. Knight.”
Seriously? Worst first day ever.
This is is going to be a fun school year. Look out Oliver, these kids are savage.
Corrine, Kenny, and be Max be like:
5: Fly on the Wall
“You too Mr. Knight.”
What the hell? What does she want? After being forced to watch this poorly executed reenactment of a teen drama, all I want to do is go back to my dorm and listen to music. I side-eye Kennedy, her shoulders are slumped in defeat, her eyes weary. Clearly, she doesn’t want to be here either.
After the stunt she pulled with me to get Malibu Ken’s attention, I don’t blame her. The tension between Kennedy and Corrine was palpable, although somewhat amusing. I’ve got to give the girl some credit though, she has some top-notch self-control. If someone threw something at me in front of the whole class, I’d rage.
I guess that chick Max is the enforcer in their friendship; she straight up annihilated Barbie girl. Witnessing a verbal catfight is entertaining, but somewhat unnerving. Girls are fucking ruthless; much more so than us men. Yeah, we might knock out a couple of teeth, but Christ, girls go straight for the jugular.
Kennedy and I approach Mrs. Patella’s desk, both of us refusing to look at one another. She’ll kiss me but apparently, eye contact is too much.
“Miss Carmichael, Mr. Knight, thank you for hanging back.” Mrs. Patella’s eyes flicker between the two of us, until finally landing on Kennedy. “I just wanted to propose an idea. Since Mr. Knight is a new student, I was thinking it would be nice if you could show him around. I know you just gave a tour to all the Freshmen but if you had time, I’m sure Mr. Knight would appreciate it.”
Kennedy laughs nervously, side-eyeing me. “I guess I could…but uh- I think that Oliver’s been shown around already. Right? “
I suppress a laugh. She really doesn’t want to spend time alone with me. Frankly, neither do I. However, having to show me around will irritate the shit out of her which would make me quite pleased.
“Actually, I haven’t,” I say innocently. “I’d love a tour.”
Kennedy’s jaw tightens as she forces a smile. “Okay,” she says through her teeth. “Sure, no problem.”
Mrs. Patella claps her hands. “Fantastic! Thank you so much, Miss Carmichael, you’re always so accommodating.”
Kennedy flaps her hand. “Oh, it’s nothing. Always glad to help!”
I scoff inwardly. “Suck-up,” I mutter under my breath and she shoots me a death glare.
“Well, off you go, kids!” Mrs. Patella exclaims, shooing us out of the room.
“After you, love,” I smirk, causing a deep scowl to appear on Kennedy’s face as we exit the classroom. Oh, yes. This will be fun.
Kennedy stops us halfway down the hallway. “Why did you agree to this? Do you honestly need a tour? We have a map of the school on our website, can’t you just look at that?”
I cock my head to the side. “Didn’t you say in your little speech that your job as a Liaison is to ensure that students have all the resources they need to be successful? I would think knowing where my classes are is essential to my success, no?”
Kennedy rolls her eyes. “I could care less about your success.”
I let out an amused laugh. “A bit harsh there, Kenny, you barely even know me.”
“ Don’t call me Kenny, we are not friends,“ she huffs, crossing her arms. “And yes, I don’t know you, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.”
“I’m sensing a lot of hostility coming from you,” I say, leaning against the wall. “Perhaps another kiss would perk you right up?”
Kennedy shakes her head, her eyes wide with annoyance. “Let it go, Oliver. It was a mistake, one that I know I’ll regret for the rest of my life.”
“Or one that you’ll remember,” I wink at her.
Kennedy groans. “Can we just get this over with? I have homework I need to finish.”
I narrow my eyes. “Classes haven’t even started, how do you already have homework?”
Kennedy straightens out her shoulders, a proud smile on her face. “I requested the syllabus for all my classes last week. I like getting a head start.”
This girl is mental. Confirmed once again. “That is absolutely ludicrous.”
“To you, maybe, but to me, it’s necessary ,” she explains. “Harvard has a 4.7% acceptance rate and I intend to be a part of those statistics.”
I scoff. “Harvard? Of course, you’re one of those Ivy League snobs.”
“Just because I want to attend a prestigious institute doesn’t make me a snob!” she huffs.
“Actually, that’s exactly what it makes you,” I retort. “Just own it, Kenny, you’re snobby.”
Kennedy closes her eyes. “If I’m a snob then so is everyone else at this school.”
I shrug noncommittally. “I won’t argue with that.”
Even though there’s a standard school uniform, almost everyone is repping shoes or jewelry that’s probably worth more than a normal person’s monthly salary. I find people who flaunt their money to be pathetic. Jeff Bezos, the founder of Amazon, whose net worth is around 200 billion dollars, drives around in a goddamn Honda Accord, yet every student at this school is showing up in Ferraris and Hummers, acting as if they’re royalty.
Before Kennedy can reply, a voice from down the hall calls out, “Hey, KC!” I turn around to find Malibu Ken sauntering towards us, football in hand. Speaking of the flashy and sad.
Kennedy tenses beside me, sucking in a sharp breath. “Hey,” she says casually, avoiding his gaze, her eyes flickering everywhere except his face.
Malibu Ken
tops in front of us, his eyes giving me a curious once-over. “Oliver, right?” He holds out his hand. “I’m Sawyer.”
I nod my chin towards him, not shaking his hand. I prefer to distance myself from the Chads of the world.
“Okay…” Sawyer’s eyes narrow as he puts his hand away, turning towards Kennedy. “How was your break, KC? Do anything interesting?” KC? What a dumb jock nickname.
Kennedy scowls, taking a step away from him, her eyes darkening. “It was great actually. Yours?”
Sawyer scratches his head, almost looking nervous. “Yeah, it was fine. Dad had me on a pretty tight training regime, I-”
Kennedy puts her hand up, cutting him off. “What do you want, Sawyer? Why are you talking to me?”
Sawyer’s eyes dart briefly upward to meet mine. He might be slightly more jacked than I am, but I still tower over him. “Just wanted to say hi,” he says, shrugging. “You know, catch up.”
“Okay,” Kenny says in a clipped tone. “ Hi . Is that all?“
Sawyer shakes his head, letting out a scoff. “Don’t be like this, KC. We can still be friends.” He nods toward me. “We’ve both clearly moved on, right?”
Does he think- Oh, shit. No way. No. Does he really think I would ever be into someone like Little Miss Perfect? Nuh-uh . Kennedy’s eyes widen, picking up on what Malibu Ken is implying. She’s going to correct him…right?
I open my mouth to say something but Kenny elbows me in the kidney so subtly that Sawyer doesn’t even notice. “At least I don’t need to be up to date on all my vaccines to be with the person I moved on with,” she sneers. “Must be so difficult dating Corn-On-The-Cob, I know how much you hate needles.”
My eyebrows furrow at her lame attempt at an insult. Corn on the Cob? What the fuck kind of slight is that? Unless… Corrine is the corn and…the cob is… Oh. I let out a low chuckle. I get it. Quite clever actually.
Sawyer’s head whips towards me. “What’re you laughing at?” he snaps. “Something funny?”
“Yes,” I state simply. Is he really trying to start something right now? In the hallway, like a prepubescent child? Typical American jock. “Kennedy just roasted your little girlfriend. It was quite humorous. Did you not get the joke?” I look over to Kennedy whose face is losing its color. “Perhaps you’d like to explain your jab to our dim little friend here.”
“What did you just call me?” Sawyer fumes, his eyes darting between me and Kennedy. “You better check yourself, new kid.” Sawyer faces Kennedy. “Where did you find this guy, KC? Were they giving boyfriends away at the Goodwill ?”
Before I can make fun of Malibu Ken for literally trying to shake me by using the phrase ‘check yourself before you wreck yourself’, Kennedy, for some peculiar reason, starts laughing uncontrollably. What is happening?
“Goodwill?” she snorts, wiping the tears from under her eyes. “That’s rich coming from someone who hand-plucked their new girlfriend from Hoes R’ Us.” She shakes her head, chortling. “ Goodwill ….Oh my God.“
Sawyer balls up his fists. “You’re such a bitch, KC. You don’t even know Corrine.”
Kennedy blinks a few times, suppressing a stream of giggles. “Sawyer, everyone knows Corrine. I mean…go ask your team. I’m sure they could give you the exact number of moles she has all over her body.”
Sawyer shakes his head, a disgusted scowl plastered on his face. “What happened to you, Kennedy? You used to be nice.”
“I am nice, just not to Corrine,” Kenny scoffs. “And after what she did to me Sophomore year, I don’t have to be.” Her face falls. “You of all people should know.”
Sawyer takes a deep breath. “Yeah, well, I guess people change, right?” He nods toward me. “When push comes to shove, some of us upgrade, others… downgrade. “
Kennedy nibbles on her bottom lip. I just know that she’s trying to muster up a comeback but she’s taking far too long. Fuck it. In the midst of trying to put Kennedy down, Sawyer made an unfortunate error in judgment, he insulted me.
“A downgrade?” I say, utterly amused by his flawed logic. “What qualities are you basing your assessment on? Looks? Because in that case, I win. Charm? Me again. Intellect? Well, I’ll go out a limb and say that I’m smarter than you. And then there’s wealth. Which I can guarantee, I have more of.”
Sawyer scoffs, making icy eye contact with Kennedy. “You sure know how to pick them.”
Kennedy crosses her arms and gives Sawyer an obvious and somewhat sassy once-over. “ Clearly .“
Sawyer rolls his eyes. “Whatever, KC. Have fun with that .”
“I will!” she exclaims as Sawyer starts walking away.
When we’re finally alone in the hallways and Malibu Ken is out of earshot, I turn to Kennedy. “Care to explain what the fuck just happened?” I ask.
“It’s none of your business,” Kennedy mutters and begins walking down the hallway.
“I think implying that I’m your new boyfriend makes this one hundre d percent my business.”
“You’re right, I guess it does,” Kennedy says lifelessly then pauses, her eyebrows knitting together. “You had several chances to say something…why didn’t you?”
Fuck. “Good question,” I murmur.
Kennedy leads us up the stairs to the third floor. “I guess I should say thank you for going along with it. I just- I don’t know. Sawyer is-”
“A douche?” I supply.
Kennedy lets out an emotionless chuckle. “Yeah, that’s one word for it.”
“I think that’s the reason I didn’t say anything,” I admit. “He was acting like a complete turd.”
“This is the library,” Kennedy says, pointing towards two glass doors. “And yeah, well, he wasn’t always like that. I don’t really know what happened.”
I nod as we pass a few more rooms that supposedly are not worthy of an introduction. “What happened with you and Corrine? You said something about Sophomore year.” I am not normally this nosy but I’m itching to know the details.
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” she whispers, pointing to a room with its door closed. “This is the guidance counselor’s office.”
“That bad, eh?” I ask, trying to read her face. It amazes me how she can go from being on one minute to completely off the next. Girls are peculiar. Must be hormones.
“Let’s just say police were involved,” Kenny sighs. “Not that anything came of it. Corrine’s father is the Chief. I doubt he’d let his own daughter be charged with-” She stops herself. “Doesn’t matter, it’s in the past.”
“Her dad’s a cop?” I muse. “That explains a lot.”
Kennedy frowns. “What do you mean?”
“She just seems like the type of person who thinks she can break rules and get away with it,” I explain.
“Sounds about right.” She nods then stops walking, her spirited eyes looking up at me. “Is your dad a cop too?”
“Mine?” I throw my head back and laugh at the image of my father in a uniform. “No, not at all. Why would you ask me that?”
She cocks her head to the side, grinning. “Seems to me like you think you can break rules and get away with it too.”
Ah, the motorcycle. “Are you going to issue me a blue slip?” I tease. “If I recall correctly, you did threaten me with that.”
Kennedy bites her lip, her eyes scheming. “No, I won’t,” she says slowly, taking two steps towards me. I can practically see the gears in her head turning. “Actually, I won’t give you any blue slips this year.”
“And why is that? Do you suddenly have a soft spot for the new student?” I smirk.
Kennedy hums, almost as if she’s having an internal conversation with herself. “No, I still find you quite annoying, Oliver,” she says. “But I do have a proposition for you.”
I raise a curious brow. “A proposition?” What is going on in that head of hers? “What sort of proposition?”
A knowing smile lifts the corners of her mouth. “One that I think will be mutually beneficial.”
I take a step backward away from Kennedy, she’s suddenly gotten quite creepy. “I don’t think I like where you’re doing with this…”
“Before you say no, at least hear me out.” She pauses, tilting her head to the side, and smirking cunningly. “ Boyfriend .“
Yes yes, Kenny is a little mean but so is like everyone else. Welcome to high school
Thoughts on Sawyer?
OKAY SO THE CORN ON THE COB JOKE IN CASE Y’ALL DIDN’T GET IT: Corrine is the corn and the cob is ahem an…eggplant..if you catch my drift.
Ollie watching Sawyer tryna puff up like:
Publishing News
Hi friends!
Faux Real will be published on March 24, 2023! I’m super excited to once again hold these little beans in my hands. This means I will be removing the story from Wattpad on March 3, 2023. Until then, enjoy this story for free on Wattpad.
Love,
Liza
Published
FAUX REAL is now PUBLISHED (except the paperback, which should be available VERY soon!) Check the links on the profile to get the e-book or read on Kindle Unlimited <3
Paperbacks are LIVE
Faux Real Paperbacks are now LIVE! links in my bio ❤️
![Cover of Faux Real [PUBLISHED]](/story-covers/faux-real-published_246833772.webp)
