Citrus

Chapter 1

Iverson was a sterile city. It was a gated community, located just an hour and a half outside of New York, where people came to retire and others came for privacy. The crown jewel of the hidden city was Iverson University.

Iverson University was home to old and new money. The scrawling buildings were new and glistened, yet invited rumors, ghosts of betrayed lovers, and scorned enemies. Iverson University was gorgeous.

I hate every square inch it offered. In my eyes, the tall buildings were almost as stuck up and pompous as the people it housed and fed. Iverson University was a private school for the rich and famous. Legacy is all that matters in this place and tuition would make even Oprah blush.

The crowd of people having their cars unloaded for them chats about God knows what. Most of them were vapid and had too much money in their bank accounts. They attended Iverson University until they’re old enough to gain access to their trust fund.

Yet, this campus was an escape to me. Months ago, I begged my mother to let me return to Iverson. I said I needed to be here for my senior fall semester when, in reality, I just needed to be away from California and Avery Sinclair. It was stifling living with a mother who always preferred to raise her acting empire instead of her only child.

Nothing had changed because of my incident last fall semester. She had only mentioned it to me twice. Once, when she had made up a pretty lie to the press about my absence from school. The second time, months later, on the flight, we took earlier today to Iverson.

“We won’t have a repeat of last year’s inconvenience, will we, Janna-Marie,” Avery clips into the car. However, the stern tone in her voice clearly shows that she has given me an order instead of asking me a question.

I hid the need to pull my hair out as I allowed my head to roll towards her, smiling wide and lazy. Knowing she hates when I don’t take her seriously, I drawl out, “Only if I’m bored, Mother,” I say, dripping saccharine. All she had done was smack her lips before turning back towards her laptop. And that was the last we had spoken. Neither of us said goodbye when we got into separate cars and I left for months for school.

Now I stand there watching the chaos of move-in day. I barely look at my pile of bags on the curb where the surly driver dumped them. My heart pounds uncomfortably as I remember my last moments here last fall. As soon as the feeling comes, I push it as far away as I can. I needed this school year. After the last few months cooped up in my house, the threat of the memories was nothing compared to how I almost lost my mind back home.

With that in mind, I get to work. It takes a few minutes to locate a cart to wheel my things, but after being shoved around by one fraternity group, I drag one back to my sad pile on the curb. I could always pack less, but I viewed everything that I had packed as essential.

“I need to work out more,” I wheeze. I was lifting a heavy bag when I heard a sweet voice over the mummer of all the people.

“If you exercise, I know hell has frozen over,” I quickly turn around and there is Blair, standing tall and proud, like a sight for sore eyes. My bag crashes to the ground as I quickly pull her into a tight hug.

Blair Montgomery hasn’t changed at all. She’s just as tall as me, which is hard to find. However, where I am curvy, Blair is more subtle. She’s petite, her short blonde hair hanging free. Her ruby red lips smile large against my temple.

“I see you’re still a smartass,” I say into her hair as she squeezes me back with the same ferocity. It had been months since I had last seen her.

“Of course, it adds to my charm,” She lets me go but doesn’t back far away.

I smile, big and wide, “Is that what you call it?” As I reach down to grab my fallen bag, Blair willingly grabs the cart, and it’s like we haven’t been apart.

“Come help me unload.” Blair wheels the cart towards her car, and I follow her. We quickly head over to Blair’s idle car as she throws open the trunk and begins unloading her stuff next to mine our cart. I don’t mind, especially since we are going to be living together in an apartment.

“You would not believe how hard it was to convince my dad to let me come without him.” Blair shares as she throws another bag into the cart. She is the motormouth in our relationship. Even though I’m not a quiet person, she makes me look quiet with how much she speaks. Normally, it could annoy, but Blair has such a bubbly aura to her, that it’s just sweet.

“I think it’s cute you have helicopter parents,” I say. I have to lean back as Blair swats at me.

“It’s suffocating,” Blair groans, “It’s like they think I’m still a freshman.”

I haul a bag from Blair’s trunk with ease. If I pack too much, Blair packs almost nothing. She was the person who preferred to buy what she needed when she got to where she was going.

“We’re about to graduate Jamie,” She huffs as if I am not aware, “You think they would trust me more instead of trying to scope out where they can leave nanny cams in our apartment.”

“It’s reassuring to know that you are still as dramatic as always.” I joke a bit. Though, I wouldn’t put it past her parents considering they were politicians. I raise a singular eyebrow when her bag barely makes it into her goal.

“Enough about me though,” Blair leans towards me slightly before her voice gets softer, “How are you?”

I take a long deep breath, smelling the clean air that blows across the yard. “Finally free from the storm that Avery Sinclair creates.” Instead of the customary wince and look of pity that everyone else seems to give me, Blair shrugs and turns to grab another bag from the trunk.

“I imagine that she only wants to give her expert opinion?” Blair sarcastically drawls. I show her my face as I pinch it and she laughs at my pain.

“It gets worse. My dad came and declared he ‘had to stay’ with us until I was feeling better. His words.” My eyes widened a bit to show how unnatural this was. Blair’s mouth formed a perfect-O at the news. My mother and my father married before I was born and happily divorced before I was two. It was one of those relationships where it was a sinking ship from the beginning.

“Your mom and your dad were in the same room? Who won the brawl this time?” Blair and I snicker at the thought. I go to tell her they’re both still in perfect pieces when someone slams into my shoulder to get by. I tumble into Blair and she squeals as she barely catches me.

I take a few seconds to stop fumbling for my balance, but when I do I swing a glare in that direction. “Watch where you’re going,” I yell at the person as they keep moving towards the parking lot without looking back.

“What the…” Blair trails off, and we both take notice of the number of people who have stopped moving around us. A mass of students crowds together as everyone strains to look further into the parking lot. I look over Blair’s car, craning away from people who rush past us towards the crowd.

A little down the parking lot, I can see a small group of administration along with a massive crowd of students. They all hover close to a car that has just pulled into Iverson. “What’s that about?” I ask Blair. She looks at me with wide eyes and shrugs.

“Maybe it’s the Princess from Norway,” Blair says as she gives up on her suitcase and focuses on the Jeep, “You know Princess Alexandra loves attention.” I shrugged along with her because it wouldn’t be shocking if it was royalty.

Iverson University is a private university for the richest of the rich all around the world. Iverson provides a certain amount of security in the closed gate community and privacy with strict no paparazzi or camera rules in place. From actual royalty across the seas to current Hollywood stars attend Iverson as they gather degrees that most of the students won’t even use.

The crowd twitters louder at the sight of the car and I look towards Blair as she stands on the tips of her toes, trying to steal a glimpse of what was causing the ruckus. It wasn’t the princess of Norway getting out of the jeep, but a man around my father’s age. He strode around the hood of the Jeep with pride, his wide shoulders thrown back. He wore a nice button-down shirt. I can tell from here costs an unnecessary amount of money to look effortlessly polished. He reached the passenger side and opened the door for a woman, who folded out.

The woman stands with her shoulders back and a hand shading her eyes as she looks towards the campus buildings. She is more casually dressed in jeans and a slouchy purple top. They quickly head around towards the administration group, who have descended onto them swiftly. They’re probably just some big investors of Iverson, I tell myself. I’m losing interest in the Jeep when Blair catches onto my arm with her nails.

I hiss as I turn back and take in what caused Blair to grab me and immediately spot why there was a crowd. Two figures around our age fold out from the backseat. The first is a boy with long brown hair brushing his shoulders. Unkempt is his theme as he has scruff on his face. He is wearing a puka shell necklace, a dingy t-shirt, and shorts that hang off his hips.

Normally, I would tease Blair for focusing on him, but I’m just as blown away when the last of the party fully turns towards the entrance of the school. And she’s pretty. A very pretty, unfamiliar face.

She has long brown shiny hair that seems to float on her shoulders. A pair of sunglasses rested on the top of her hair, even though she wore round glasses on her face. Her face is soft and her lips are a delicate pink. She was very well put together, wearing a knee-length powder pink skirt along with a white top buttoned up to her neck.

The two of them look like opposites. He looked like an easy-going surfer and she looked like she was heading towards a tea party. He has a wide animated grin, and she sports a soft neutral look. At first glance, they look like the perfect nuclear family. I let out a low whistle at the sight of them. It’s clear they’re from the wealthy side of Iverson, which is stinking rich.

“Well, well. Would you look at that?” I mumble. “Who are they?” I ask Blair.

“I don’t know,” Blair says, and she’s thrown, “They didn’t go here last year.” Her attention is hanging onto them like this is the only thing that matters. And I guess it does because they didn’t go here last year.

Being such a small community, almost everyone knew everyone who attended here. It was good for connections, but it also meant that everyone would know they were not from around here. Transfers rarely happened. Iverson University had a reparation for denying transfers. Not because the admissions board didn’t want to accept more students, but more like admissions blackballing new students before their applications hit the admissions desk.

New students shook the boat and threatened privacy. The board of directors ran this school and only listened to whoever had the biggest wallet. So, the Colby’s must have had a big wallet to gain access in their senior year.

I look towards Blair and there she stands, her eyes wide with a suspicious sparkle in them. I’ve seen that look too many times to count. “Oh god,” I groan as I turn away from the Jeep, “Don’t do it, Blair.”

“What?” she says innocently as her eyes come back to me.

I see right through her act, “Don’t adopt them.” I bend down to grab my fallen duffel bag and hoist it onto my shoulder. Blair had a habit of taking what she considered charity cases under her wing to fix them up and I can tell right off the bat that transfer students, especially ones who have a nice jawline, would be at the top of her list.

“I’m helping.” She defends herself while avoiding my eyes. She slams her trunk shut and grabs the cart and pushes it away. I slowly follow her, not believing her act for a second.

“They don’t need or want help. Did that ever cross your mind?” I ask when I’ve caught up to her.

She quickly guides us towards the apartment complex, a little down from the main campus. “Yes, and it means they’re blissfully unaware. Or, hopefully, he is.” Blair replies.

“Be honest, you just want to ride him,” I say while raising an eyebrow at her.

Blair doesn’t hesitate before throwing her own raised eyebrows back at me, her smile widened and devious, “Without a doubt. I would ride him like a bike.”

I laugh loudly, drawing attention from nearby students before leveling Blair with a look. “What about Henley? I thought you two were getting close” I asked her, bumping her with my hip.

It’s common knowledge to everyone that Blair is only in it for a good time. So every semester she finds someone to entertain her. They never last longer than a few weeks. I had the feeling that Henley might have outlasted the others, but when Blair rolls her eyes; I know he’s just an old memory.

“I thought you liked that one?” I tell her. She shrugs before wiggling her eyebrows at me.

“Oh, I did. However, he was getting way too clingy for me.” I snorted at her, shifting a falling duffel bag higher onto my shoulder. That I could see. It was clear Henley wasn’t used to the attention that Blair gave him. I almost felt bad for him.

Blair opens the door to the apartment complex with her key card. The inside is luxurious. The walls were a delicate cream color with art hanging on the walls. Other students were milling about as they settled in. Blair takes me over to the front desk where I am given an envelope with a key-card to get into the building, a mailroom, and a key to access our specific dorm. I finished signing the papers that the check-in lady hands me. With a quick smile, I wheel the cart towards the elevator.

Blair, leading the way, continues to speculate who the family in the jeep could have been. “Just think! If someone is transferring, they must have a ton of influence.”

I waited for Blair to push the elevator button. When ten seconds go by with her still daydreaming about the new students, I grunt and shift my bag to one side and try to push the button without dropping it and having the cart roll away.

“Maybe he’s the one Jamie!” Her rose-colored glasses are firmly on and they aren’t coming off soon.

“Oh please,” I scoff as I watch the elevator number get closer to the lobby, “He is a passing phase with a pretty smile and I’m calling it.” Blair pouts at me for bursting her bubble.

“I’m a romantic. Let me dream.” I can’t help the snort.

“No, you’re delusional,” That’s the last thing that comes out of me before her bag hits me square in the chest.