The Heirloom Secrets#1

Here I was, smack in the middle of an argument with the queen bee herself, Holly Whitman. Now, Holly wasn't your typical blonde beauty with a perfect figure. No, she was the total opposite—more on the plain side—but still pretty in her own unique way. This whole mess started because Ferric Ryans, the hottest guy at Timberwood Academy, had the audacity to talk to me instead of her. I mean, I was just as shocked as Holly. A guy like Ferric wouldn’t normally come within ten feet of me. I'm the girl with the big bones and a bit more to love, but I've never been one to trade my curves for anything—or so I thought. My sky-blue eyes are my favorite feature. They stand out against my fair skin, making them pop even more. My cheeks are full, giving me a warm, approachable look. I carry my weight with confidence—well, most of the time. But let's be real; that confidence is a hard-earned façade. It wasn't always this way. See, when I was just 13 years old, I had a daughter named Angelica. She’s two now, and I’m only 15. It’s pretty unbelievable, right? My famous parents and siblings were so ashamed of me that they disowned me. They couldn’t handle the scandal, especially with their spotless Hollywood reputations on the line. But let me take you back to where it all began—before Holly decided that we needed to have this ridiculous argument over a boy, no less. Because if there’s one thing you need to know about Timberwood Camp, it’s that drama isn’t just a part of life here—it’s the air we breathe. And Holly and I? Well, we were about to give everyone a show they wouldn’t forget ~ The day had started off like any other at Timberwood Academy. The early morning sun filtered through the tall trees surrounding the campus, casting dappled shadows on the gravel paths. I had just finished a grueling run, the kind that made my legs feel like jelly, but also kept my mind clear. Boot camp was brutal, but it was also the one place where I could escape the whispers, the side glances, the judgment. At least, that’s what I thought. I was heading back to my cabin, hoping to sneak in a quick shower before breakfast, when I saw him—Ferric Ryans, leaning against a tree like he owned the place. His tousled blonde hair caught the sunlight just right, and those piercing hazel eyes? Yeah, they were locked on me. I could feel my heart skip a beat. What was he doing here, in my corner of the camp? “Hey, Zara,” Ferric called out, flashing me that crooked smile that made every girl at Timberwood swoon. “Got a minute?” I stopped dead in my tracks. Did he just say my name? My actual name, not some cruel nickname? “Uh, yeah, sure,” I stammered, trying to sound casual, but I could feel my face heating up. He pushed off the tree and walked towards me, his gaze never leaving mine. “I was wondering… How’s Angelica doing?” Now, if you know anything about Timberwood, you know that people don’t just casually bring up your kid in conversation—especially when you’re 15 and still trying to figure out how to be a mom. But Ferric seemed genuinely interested, and for a moment, I forgot about the rumors, the stares, the constant pressure to be something I wasn’t. “She’s good,” I replied, a bit cautiously. “Thanks for asking.” “Good to hear,” Ferric said, his voice softening. “I’ve got younger siblings, so I get how tough it can be.” And that’s when it happened. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her—Holly, storming towards us like a bull seeing red. She was furious, her face twisted in a scowl that only made her features sharper, harsher. Her short, chestnut hair was pulled back into a severe ponytail, and her normally cool blue eyes were blazing with anger. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Ferric?” Holly snapped, her voice dripping with venom. “Talking to her?” Ferric turned to face Holly, completely unfazed. “Just having a conversation, Holly. No need to get worked up. But Holly wasn’t having it. “With Zara? Are you serious? Do you know who she is? What she’s done?” I felt the sting of her words like a slap across the face. The way she spat out my name like it was something dirty, something shameful. My hands balled into fists, my nails digging into my palms. I wasn’t going to let her get away with this. “Yeah, he knows exactly who I am,” I shot back, stepping closer to Holly. “And guess what? It’s none of your damn business.” Holly’s eyes widened in shock, but only for a second. Then she narrowed them, her lips curling into a sneer. “Oh, please, Zara. You’re just a sad, pathetic girl who got knocked up and now you’re trying to play the victim. You don’t belong here.” I felt the familiar knot of shame tighten in my stomach, but I swallowed it down. I couldn’t let her see that she’d gotten to me. “You know what, Holly? Maybe I don’t belong here. But neither do you—at least not on some moral high ground. Ferric can talk to whoever he damn well pleases, and you’re not going to stop him.” Ferric glanced between us, clearly torn, but he didn’t say anything. I could feel the tension building, the crowd of campers beginning to gather around us, sensing a fight. “What’s wrong, Holly? Afraid he might actually like someone with a brain and a backbone?” I continued, my voice rising. Holly’s face turned an alarming shade of red, and for a moment, I thought she might actually hit me. But then she took a step back, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “You’re going to regret this, Zara. No one crosses me and gets away with it.” With that, Holly turned on her heel and stormed off, her entourage scrambling to keep up with her. The crowd that had gathered began to disperse, some whispering, others just shaking their heads. Ferric looked at me, an unreadable expression on his face. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.” I shrugged, trying to act like my heart wasn’t pounding in my chest. “Yeah, well, someone had to put her in her place.” He smiled at that, a real, genuine smile that made my knees feel weak. “Guess you’re tougher than I thought, Zara.” And just like that, he was gone, walking away as if nothing had happened. But I knew better. This wasn’t over—not by a long shot. Holly would come back, and she’d come back swinging. But for now, I had won this round. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like maybe—just maybe—I could handle whatever Timberwood Camp threw my way.